Alma 32 Seminar Complete Transcript

“An Experiment on the Word”
Reading Alma 32
Complete Seminar Transcript
A Mormon Theology Seminar

May-August 2008
www.mormontheologyseminar.org
Participants:
Robert Couch
James Faulconer
Adam Miller
Joseph Spencer
Julie Smith
Jenny Webb
Alma 30-31
June 1, 2008 by joespencer 
Toward Faith
Faith—since it is faith we are primarily hoping to have Alma 32 teach us about—has the
last word in Alma 30-31, in fact, quite literally: the word “faith” does not appear in these
two chapters at all until the very last word of the very last verse of chapter 31. That the
word subsequently appears in chapters 32-34 some twenty-six times (by my count)
highlights how really odd this singular appearance in chapters 30-31 is. Its placement as
the very last word of these otherwise faith-less chapters sets up a kind of teleological
reading (please don’t read anything metaphysical into the word “teleological” here!):
Alma 30-31 not only can (in light of chapter 32’s heavy emphasis on faith), but also ought
to (in light of the subtle teleology of Alma 30-31), be read as working toward the question
of faith.
The contextual emergence of the theme of faith on this reading imposes on the reader a
particular framework for approaching chapter 31 at least: because 31:38 ties faith to “the
prayer of Alma” specifically, faith must be understood as emerging through a contrast of
prayers, of Alma’s prayer with that of the Zoramites. Whatever will have to be said about
faith in the process of reading Alma 32-34(35), it must be said that it emerges first
through a contrast of prayers.
Of course, it is hardly a unique interpretive approach to this chapter to take it up in terms

of two contrasting prayers. Perhaps little has been said about Alma 31 besides that it sets
up a contrast between the prayer of humility and the prayer of pride. But already the
common interpretive approach is deepened, complicated, or radicalized: rather than
taking the difference between the two prayers as a question primarily of humility/pride,
the chapter presents the difference as a question primarily of faith/infidelity.
Two interesting differences between the two prayers immediately strike me in light of
this. First, the Rameumptom prayer constantly employs the verb “to believe,” while
Alma’s prayer never uses it. Second, the Rameumptom prayer is explicitly a prayer of
gratitude (it never petitions), while Alma’s prayer is explicitly a prayer of petition (it
never thanks). Each of these points deserves closer attention; I’ll take them in turn.
First, then: Why does Alma’s prayer of faith consistently avoid the language of belief,
while the faithless prayer of the Zoramites uses that language constantly (the verb
appears five times in the Rameumptom prayer)? At the very least, this anticipates or
decides in advance on a distinction between faith and belief that will be vital in chapters
32-34. But more, obviously, needs to be said than just that. The five instances of the verb
“to believe” in the Zoramite prayer are all conjugated in the present and in the first
personal plural: “we believe” four times, and “we do not believe” once. This confessional
flavor, combined with the mantra-like repetition of the phrase, gives the Rameumptom
prayer a kind of creedal spirit, and perhaps, then, the distinction between the prayer of
faith and the faithless prayer can be said preliminarily to be grounded in a difference in
attitude towards (the) creeds.
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Of course, it remains to be said what it is about creeds as such that seems to be at odds
with Alma’s prayer of faith. A couple of quick points, then. The five creedal statements
here are all, as are most statements in most creeds, statements about transcendent facts:
whereas Alma simply talks in his prayer about what he has seen immediately before him,
the Zoramites make claims about things that have not—indeed cannot have—
experienced personally. Moreover, the creedal prayer lays a heavy emphasis on the
communal or collective, while Alma’s prayer has a manifest focus on the (I hate this
word) individual—or let me say: on the subject. Thus while belief would seem to be
grounded in a collective appeal to transcendence in a desperate attempt to guarantee the
current status of the present political state by drawing on the unknowable, faith would
seem to be primarily a question of a subjective dissatisfaction with the state of the
situation in which one finds oneself. In a word, belief would seem to be
a politically motivated attempt to cover over the gap in the current state of knowledge by
claiming special relation to some kind of transcendent power (the five statements of
belief are followed by a privileged case of knowledge in the Zoramite prayer: “thou has
made known unto us,” etc., in verse 16); while faith would seem to be an apolitical
(almost anarchistic, though the word has far too much baggage to be of much use) wager
with regard to the situation that is undertaken by a singular subject (might the word
“fidelity” be interchangeable with “faith”?).
Second difference: Why, in this text, is petition associated with faith, while gratitude is
associated with faithlessness? I immediately think of Derrida here: thanks or gratitude
cancels a gift by economizing it, by subsuming it within a calculus or by making it a kind
of wage. Might it be that in order to be gifted, in order to be a given-to, it is
necessary not to raise a prayer of thanks, but rather always to be asking for something?
Indeed, might the very position of gratitude not be always dangerously close to self-
satisfaction, to being at ease in Zion? This difference between the two prayers—one that
entirely caught me by surprise—radically reworks the meaning of faith. To be faithful to
what God is or does or reveals, etc., is not to recognize it in some kind of “mere” mental
assent, but to give it place, to allow it to enter into the situation by subjectively assuming
a radical position (or a position of radicalism?). Faithfulness or fidelity is a question, then,
of being (subjectively) inflected by the (God’s) truth rather than merely to give some kind
of cognitive assent to an unknowable “fact.” The faithful prayer would then always be
petitionary. Or so, at least, Alma 31 here would suggest.
Korihor and Zoramite Idolatry
This preliminary analysis of the distinction between the two prayers of Alma 31 lays a
heavy emphasis on the relationship between the singular subject (here: Alma) and the
situation in which s/he finds her/himself (here: the encounter with the Zoramites). This
calls for something besides theoretical abstractions, to which I have primarily given
myself here thus far: I would like to turn, for the remainder of this post, to the details of
the situation of Alma and Amulek’s preaching (in chapters 32-34) as provided by
chapters 30-31. Whatever narrativity can be read into the scene of preaching (again, in
chapters 32-34), it ultimately must be grounded in as thorough a knowledge as possible of
the situation as presented in chapters 30-31. I would like to write up, then, a kind of
encyclopedia of the Zoramite situation.
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The last verses of chapter 30 and the first verses of chapter 31 make it abundantly clear
that the Zoramites cannot be thought apart from Korihor. Not only are there a few
striking parallels between the doctrines of Korihor and the doctrines of the Zoramites (at
least as embodied by their creedal prayer), but a few textual hints clinch the connection,
as well as the narrative interconnection that is laid out explicitly.
After Korihor’s confrontation with Alma, the text tells that he “went about from house to
house begging for his food” (30:56), “begging food for his support” (30:58). One of the
places he goes, of course, is to the city of the Zoramites, “a people who had separated
themselves from the Nephites and called themselves Zoramites, being led by a man
whose name was Zoram” (30:59). While begging there, “he was run upon and trodden
down, even until he was dead” (30:59). The event’s description is remarkably ambiguous,
but the violence of the Zoramites toward the (now) poor Korihor is at least a
foreshadowing of the political dynamics of the Zoramite people that will set up the
preaching situation at the beginning of chapter 32. If this would seem to align Korihor in
his beggarly condition to the rejected of Zoramite society, however, there is a hint in the
first verse of chapter 31 that seems to give him a rather different relationship to the
Zoramites: “Zoram, who was their leader, was leading the hearts of the people to bow
down to dumb idols.” The appearance of the word “dumb” here is significant because it
is so obviously an echo of the curse that had only just before come upon Korihor: even as
the Zoramites kill Korihor through a collective act of violence, they bow down to
worship his image.
Two points of clarification. First, I’m not at all suggesting that there were actual Korihor
statues among the Zoramites! I mean, rather, that the text draws a connection between
the Zoramites objects of worship and the cursed figure of Korihor. Second, my language
above purposefully draws on the theory of Rene Girard: Korihor’s death, though the
event is described rather elliptically, clearly involves a kind of collective murder, and, as
Girard points out again and again, collective murder is almost universally associated in
the ancient world with a kind of double regard for the victim—the victim is guilty
(Korihor the cursed, the poor, etc.) and deified (Korihor the object of worship, the dumb
idol, etc.). This double relationship, as laid out by Girard, is especially helpful here
because of the explicit mention of idolatry: the idol inspires a horror that is intertwined
with veneration and honor.
Nephite and Lamanite idolatry is, for the most part, an unexplored topic. In part this is
because the subject appears (in explicit references, at least) quite infrequently in the Book
of Mormon. But here it is, at the very turning point from the Korihor story to the
Zoramite encounter, and it marks, as I hope I have shown, the very connection between
these two stories. It also serves as a major aspect of the situation in which Alma and
Amulek will be preaching: they preach to an idolatrous people. How might this idolatry
be approached?
Without getting too involved in another theoretical aside, I will say that I see idolatry as
best approachable by drawing on the work of three different thinkers: Marion, Lacan,
and Girard. Marion, of course, has a great deal to say about idolatry, having written
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several studies of the idol (versus the icon). The best way of summarizing Marion’s work
on the idol is to point to his description of the idol as the invisible mirror of the visible: to
worship an idol is to worship one’s own image (the reflection of one’s own gaze), but in
essential ignorance that that is what one sees. Lacan essentially agrees with his
(incessant!) discussions of the mirror stage: idolatry (narcissism) is to believe that one is
encountering the Other (or the other guaranteed as the other by the Other) while one is
really only looking in a mirror (the other as myself inverted so as to be an other). For
Lacan, this is an imaginary (or image-inary) relation: my neurotic relation to the mOther
makes it impossible for me to realize that I am only dealing with myself. Girard also
takes up the theme of the mirror, though perhaps somewhat less rigorously (because
anthropologically). For Girard, idolatry is a political affair by which the perpetrators of
collective violence allow the deified victim to reflect the stability or security of the state,
though the image they worship is only a mirror image of their own violence.
What all of this implies, I think, about the Zoramite situation is this: Alma and Amulek
are preaching to a people that cannot see what they are doing. Because the mirror of the
idol is, as a mirror, invisible (that is, they cannot see the mirror as a mirror), it is almost
impossible for them to understand what Alma and Amulek are saying. In Lacanian
terms: the Zoramites cannot disambiguate between the imaginary and the symbolic,
between language that is caught up only in itself (the way they speak and the way they
therefore assume that everyone speaks) and language that has real referentiality (the way
Alma and Amulek speak). Perhaps this means that Alma and Amulek essentially have
the task, in chapters 32-34, of psychoanalyzing the Zoramites. (Indeed, perhaps this is the
best way to read 31:5: it is not the violence of the real or the blanketing imposition of the
law that will cure the Zoramites of their neurotic relationship to God, but the word, a sort
of talking cure that will have a “powerful effect upon the minds of the people.”)
Korihor Himself
If all of this begins to lay a foundation for thinking the Zoramite situation, it does not at
all really even begin to grapple with Korihor, who seems to play the part of the Zoramite
god! And indeed, I spent the great majority of my time with Korihor over the past week.
What follows, then, is something between an exegesis and a hermeneutic (as brief as
possible!) of Alma 30, followed by a few simple thoughts attempting to connect the
Korihor narrative back up with the Zoramite situation through the connections laid out
above. My apologies for the length of this post!
Alma 30 deserves a series of seminars in and of itself: it is a remarkably complex chapter,

ridiculously rich in philosophical themes, frighteningly revelatory for someone interested
(like me) in Lacanian psychoanalysis, obviously vital for the unfolding history of the
Lehite peoples, and profoundly contemporary with us in its concerns.
The narrative opens with an account of burying the dead. This is not, it should be noted,
the arbitrary effect of later arrangement of chapter breaks: not only does the break
between chapters 29 and 30 correspond with a chapter break in the 1830 edition of the
Book of Mormon, the “Behold, now it came to pass” with which chapter 30 opens marks
an essential break. Moreover, the broad parallelistic structure that can be read into the
entire Book of Alma breaks itself into two parts at precisely the gap between chapters 29
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and 30. There seems to be no real reason to doubt that the Korihor narrative is
“purposefully” introduced by the account of the burial of the dead.
This way of introducing the story has several effects on what follows. First, Korihor’s
teachings are situated in relation to war, in fact, to a particular war: one in which the
difference between the righteous and the wicked is materially obliterated by the
universality of death (see Alma 28:10-14). Second, the Korihor narrative begins with the
work of mourning (to use a Freudian phrase), with the response to a fundamental loss.
Third, because the response to the deaths is said to have involved fasting, an inclusio is
set up that connects the mourning/fasting of the people at the beginning of the Korihor
narrative with Korihor’s own depraved “begging for food” at the end of the narrative.
Fourth, the extended discussion of the burial rites allows the editor (Mormon?) to
complicate what will become the first narrative point of the Korihor tale proper: the place
of the law. Each of these four points is vital.
Let me begin by fleshing out the second point mentioned above: the Korihor narrative
begins with the work of mourning and is thus grounded in a loss (in “the lost object”).
The Nephite work of mourning, the text makes clear, has a kind of stabilizing effect:
“And thus the people did have no disturbance in all the sixteenth year of the reign of the
judges over the people of Nephi” (30:4). This language is curiously psychological: it is not
that everything goes right, but that there is “no disturbance,” no neurotic episodes. The
object mourned, of course, remains lost (the work of mourning is the slow process of
coming to grips with this loss), and that means that the Nephites remain, so to speak,
collectively neurotic, though they manifest no visible signs or symptoms of their being
oriented by the lost object.
Korihor essentially takes advantage of this condition. Korihor understands the belief in
Christ to be the neurotic response to the lost object: the “foolish” and “vain hope” that
binds them is for him their ultimately unhealthy way of dealing with death (and
especially with a death that does not seem to regard the distinction between the wicked
and the righteous). The first point outlined above is thus obviously closely connected
with the second I am here discussing: Korihor’s teaching that “when a man was dead,
that was the end thereof” amounts to a call to the Nephites to come to a very different
understanding of the loss they have experienced. More will have to be said about
Korihor’s concept of death below.
If all of this would seem to suggest that Korihor is more or less right in his critique of the
Nephites, it must be said that it is the theme of eating/fasting—the third point
mentioned above—that helps us out of the dilemma. Not only does this theme set up an
inclusio that defines the boundaries of the narrative (an inclusio, in fact, that makes the
last couple verses of chapter 30 more a part of chapter 31 than a part of chapter 30’s
Korihor narrative), but it also plays on the theme of loss and death: to fast is to refuse
fulfillment or enjoyment in order to perfect it (as in D&C 59:13) and is thus a kind of
death that anticipates resurrection, a loss that anticipates restoration (as in, say, Job). It is
this refusal of consumption that has the potential to disambiguate between the idol and
the icon or between the imaginary and the symbolic: fasting disrupts the demand-
fulfillment relation in order to restructure it as a desire-fulfillment relation. Korihor does
not see this.
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In fact, Korihor’s not seeing this is vital: it makes it clear that even if the Nephites are
collectively neurotic, he has absolutely no idea how to solve their problem. He suggests
to them a kind of American version of Freud (which could just be called hedonism):
(sexual) demands must be satisfied. There are, then, three ways of approaching the
situation illuminated by the mourning rites. First, one can see the fasting as a good full-
blown rejection of fulfillment. This seems to be how Korihor sees the Nephites
understanding work of mourning, and he may be right (the remarkable success Korihor
has may be evidence that they did indeed see the Law of Moses as a kind of rejection of
fulfillment as such). Second, one can see the fasting as a bad full-blown rejection of
fulfillment. This seems to be how Korihor himself understands the work of mourning,
and it is against this that he makes his criticism. And third, one can see the fasting as a
reworking of fulfillment, as a disentangling of fulfillment from demand to associate it
with desire (which can only be created through some kind of postponement or
disruption). Giddonah and Alma seem to see the work of mourning this way (Giddonah
refers in verse 22 to the people’s “rejoicings” rather than their mourning, and Alma
speaks in verse 35 of what “causes such joy in their hearts”).
This typology of interpretations of fasting aligns the Nephites in Zarahemla, taken

collectively, more or less with Korihor: they together miss the restructuring of fulfillment,
and so they together are bound by two dialectically intertwined forms of idolatry (the
Nephites worship the idol while Korihor philosophizes with a hammer, but they are both
determined by the idol). The fourth point mentioned above bears out this intertwining: it
is the keeping of the law that binds Korihor and the Nephites in Zarahemla together
textually. This intertwining is effecting by the continuity of the discussion of “the law” in
verse 3 with the discussion of “the law” in verses 7-12: both the Nephites and Korihor
keep the law, remain within the legal as such.
This continuity between the Nephites and Korihor is fascinating. It implies at least that
Korihor is essentially Nephite, that he is a continuation of, rather than a break with, their
way of structuring the world. In a sense, then, Korihor is less an independent figure in
this narrative than he is a facet of Nephite collectivity: he is their flaw, the whole in their
logic, the gap in their structure, the revelation of their weakness. This way of seeing
things here sets up Alma’s relationship to Korihor in a different light: Alma’s battle with
Korihor is less a one-on-one struggle with an outlandish apostate figure than it is a
grappling with the situation of the Nephites. Alma is working against the dialectical
unfolding of Nephite law, rather than with it against the singular apostasy of a
flamboyant Anti-Christ. (Again, the remarkable success of Korihor in Zarahemla is a
confirmation of this.)
In the actual confrontation between Alma and Korihor—now understand as a subjective

confrontation on Alma’s part with the logic of the legal (system)—two (intertwined)
themes emerge as central: immanence/transcendence and grace/economy.
The theme of transcendence versus immanence emerges in the first set of teachings
attributed to Korihor (verses 13-18), but it becomes central in his response to Giddonah
(verses 23-28): Korihor describes the transcendent God (god?) he sees the Nephites
worshiping when he speaks of “some unknown being, who they say is God—a being
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who never has been seen or know, who never was nor ever will be” (30:28). That this
“unknown being” is paired with the verb “to offend” (the people fear that they might
“offend some unknown being”) makes this question of transcendence doubly important
because it ties this critique of the Nephite God to the (almost Foucauldian) power
structure Korihor critiques: “Yea, they [the Nephite people] durst not make use of that
which is their own lest they should offend their priests” (30:28). Korihor’s interpretation
of the Nephite Church as a power structure meant to keep the people from claiming
authenticity is thus rooted in his claim that the Nephite religious elite transcendent-ize
themselves through “their traditions and their dreams and their whims and their visions
and their pretended mysteries” (30:28 again). Korihor’s critique would seem to pit an
obviously correct immanence against the Nephite transcendence.
Importantly, Korihor again and again ties the theme of transcendence/immanence to

knowledge: the transcendent is precisely what cannot be known and it is precisely as
such that the religious elite among the Nephites employ it in order to maintain their
power of the Nephite common folk (see the variations of the word “know” in verses 24,
26, and 28, all negative—a question of not knowing—and thus tied to the theme of
transcendence). Korihor’s critique is essentially that this assumed transcendence, with its
abrogation of knowledge, grounds an economy: “that ye may glut yourselves with the
labors of their hands,” all of this a question of “that which is their own” (30:27-28). The
Nephite religion, as Korihor sees it: transcendence, as a rejection of knowledge, secures
economy.
Alma’s response to this is amazing. He employs variations of the word “know” in his
response and ties them in every instance to immanent facts (he always employs the word
in a positive rather than negative sense): “You, Korihor, know x, y, and z.” He thus uses
knowledge itself, with its undeniable connection to immanence, in order—here’s the
surprise—not to argue for or against transcendence, but to point out that the economy
Korihor describes simply isn’t there: “Then why sayest thou that we preach unto this
people to get gain, when thou, of thyself, knowest that we receive no gain?” (30:35).
Rather than addressing the question of transcendence, he thus assumes an immanent
pose in order to show that Korihor’s economic reading is simply wrong.
What this does: rather than meeting Korihor’s implicit argument about transcendence—
namely, that the very presence of any kind of transcendence in Nephite religion implies
its economic nature and hence its essential falsity—Alma reduces the phenomenon
Korihor critiques to its essential givenness. That is, Alma reveals the complete lack of
economy at the heart of Nephite religion (as Alma practices it, at least) and so reveals the
grace that “governs” it through and through. And this reveals what it is that Korihor
(and the Nephites as a whole?) can’t deal with: grace, or, indeed, immanent grace (to drop
the title of a recent book . . . ). Why immanent? Because Alma, so soon as he has clinched
the graceful nature of the phenomenon under discussion, says: “For behold, I say unto
you, I know there is a God, and also that Christ shall come” (30:39).
Then the confrontation turns to the question of testimony and signs, and I can do little
more than point to Adam’s remarkable little paper, “Testimony and Atonement,”
published in the latest issue of Element, and to mention by way of anticipation that Alma
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still seems to be obsessed with Korihor’s desire for a sign when he talks to the Zoramites
in chapter 32.
All that remains after that is the actual deliverance of the sign and the curious “scene of
writing” that follows—a scene that is perhaps the richest part of the entire chapter! The
curse/stroke part of the narrative forces us to grapple with the essential difference
between speaking and writing, a difference that is highlighted in the curious fact that
Korihor for the first (and only) time use the word “know” in a positive sense when he
writes (verse 52). This is all the more important when Alma goes on to tell Korihor that
the curse must not be removed because he would go right back to teaching the very same
thing he had been saying all along: Korihor can only grapple with immanent grace in
writing.
I think this sudden ability to recognize immanent grace is tied to what happens when one
writes, what has often (but definitively by Roland Barthes) been called “the death of the
author”: to write is to divorce oneself from what one has to say because the text takes on
a life of its own, independent of the author. In that the author’s presence is stripped in
the work of writing, it becomes possible for immanence to be disambiguated from (the
metaphysics of) presence: Korihor’s being unable to speak, but able to write, at last
allows him to recognize a distinction his failure to recognize which has destroyed him.
This distinction is also, I think, the distinction between Lacan’s imaginary and symbolic:
one speaks with an imaginary voice, but one writes symbolically, and once Korihor is
stripped of the former, he can at last recognize what is really(real-ly) at work in the latter.
If all of this—even the stroke and Korihor’s dumbness—are tied essentially to the
unfolding dialectic of Nephite law, then every aspect of this story bears on the situation
of preaching for Alma and Amulek (and the others whose words are never quoted): their
task is to confront this same ambiguous understanding of the word (and it is precisely
“the word” that will be the central theme of Alma 32). Korihor’s apparent influence on
the Zoramites will perhaps prove to be key to interpreting the sermon to the latter.
Various Notes
The above is an attempt to deal with the text on the whole. There were many, many
things I encountered in the text that deserve mention but that didn’t find their way into
my attempt to write something logical and coherent. I offer them here as a collection of
textual notes and questions. And they are only from chapter 30, with which I was able to
spend a great deal more time.
30:2 — The Nephites do not number the dead. Does this call for a reflection on the
infinite as such? And if so, why is it connected with death? Is this essentially an infinite
loss?
30:7 — Belief enters the story here as it does later in the Zoramite story, but it enters here
as being specifically under the protection of the law. It is thus statist by nature, and faith
is non-statist, radical, etc.
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30:8 — Nephite law is grounded in a hermeneutic? This deserves so much more
attention!
30:13 — Hope is tied to “looking.” What is Korihor’s doctrine of hope? What does his
critique of hope ultimately amount to?
30:16 — Korihor specifically mentions frenzied minds and mental derangement and in
connection with one’s relation to one’s “fathers.” Is this Freudian or anti-Freudian?
30:17 — The editor (Mormon?) breaks Korihor’s initial teachings in two parts, direct
quotation (verses 13-16) and third person summary (verses 17-18). How might this affect
the meaning of the passage?
30:17 — The use of the word “crime” here is interesting: though it is a report of Korihor’s
belief, it ties back to the statement in verse 11 that “men should be judged according to
their crimes.” This tension deserves careful attention.
30:18 — Korihor’s teachings seem to lead specifically to sexual crimes. (Freud again!)
Why is that?
30:18 — Korihor’s climactic teaching about death is phrased in a really curious way:
“when a man was dead, that was the end thereof.” What can be read into this phrasing?
See below at 30:59.
30:25 — Between two statements about the limits of knowledge, Korihor makes a direct
argument against one point of Nephite doctrine: the meaning of the fall. What is
interesting is that this question is profoundly (again!) Freudian: it is all about one’s
relation to one’s parents. Moreover, it ought to be asked why Korihor retreats to the
singular non-gendered term “parent” here, avoiding the incessant language of the fathers
everywhere else in his critique.
30:28 — To have “brought them to believe” is an interesting claim Korihor makes. Again
belief is tied to the state, though it is a non-existent state Korihor is talking about.
30:32 — Alma says he has worked with “mine own hands for my support.” See below at
30:58.
30:33 — The mention of law here deserves more attention.
30:42 — The “lying spirit” Alma mentions amounts to a counter-accusation: Korihor had
claimed that the Nephites were given to pretended mysteries, etc., and now Alma points
out that (self-)deception is actually what grounds Korihor. (The interesting thing is that
Korihor accused the religious leaders of intentionaldeception, while Alma accuses Korihor
of unintentional deception.)
30:43 — Signs are tied explicitly to power.
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30:44 — God as such is tied only to “things” in this verse, while “a Supreme Creator” is
tied only to motion (relations?). What is at work here?
30:46 — What is meant by the curious phrase, “the spirit of the truth”?
30:47 — There is an echo here of Laban’s death: it is better that one soul should perish,
etc. And yet it is not clear why this needs to be mentioned here. Is it there only to tie this
story to the Laban encounter? Is it important for this story to be tied to the (writtenness of
the) brass plates?
30:58 — Korihor goes about “begging food for his support.” There is clearly a textual tie
here to verse 32, where Alma works for his support: Korihor’s wrong claim that Alma
did not work for his support is now ironic in that Korihor himself has to beg (not work)
for his support.
30:59 — Korihor’s death is reported in a somewhat odd fashion: “trodden down even
until he was dead.” But it thus echoes the odd phrasing of verse 18: “when a man was
dead.” This is vital in light of what follows in verse 60.
30:60 — Following the echo of verse 18 in the last verse, there is another here: “And thus
we see the end of him,” etc. The two verses together thus recall in its entirety the odd
climax of Korihor’s Zarahemla teachings: “when a man was dead, that was the
end thereof.” What should be read into this amazing connection?
28 Comments
1. on June 2, 2008 at 4:24 am faulconj

Some quick observations / responses:
1. Thanks for pointing out the contrast between Korihor’s use of “believe” and the
absence of the word in Alma’s prayer. I’m not yet sure where to go with that, but it is
well worth thinking about.
2. Thanks, also, for pointing out that the Rameumptom prayer is a prayer of gratitude
and that Alma’s is a prayer of petition. I find this particular point extremely interesting,
though I don’t have much to say about it right now.
3. Finally (?) thanks for pointing out that the final word of chapter 31 is “faith.” Very
nice!
4. I find provocative, but strange, what you say about the possibility that in order to be
given-to, perhaps it is necessary not to give thanks. In the Lord’s prayer, thanks are
conspicuously absent. It has praise—mostly—and some petition, but no thanks.
(Interestingly, the petition of the prayer in 3 Nephi is reduced: no petition for daily
bread.)
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5. Random point: I’ve never been sure what to make of Alma 30:11: “A man was
punished only for the crimes which he had done; therefore all men were on equal
grounds.” Surely this is not a definition of equality as only being punished for the crimes
you commit. Perhaps something much narrower is intended, “To be equal before the law
is not to be punished for a crime that someone else would not be punished for.”
However, even that seems like an unusual definition of legal equality. Very libertarian
before the fact. So what do we make of it?
6. It is also interesting, in relation to that definition of equality, that the editor ascribes the
belief to Korihor that “whatsoever a man did was no crime” (30:17). Is he using “crime”
in a different sense here, or in the same sense? I prefer to take it in a different sense: legal
crimes in verse 11, moral crimes in verse 17, but I’m not sure my preferences are right.
7. How are we to read this question in verse 22: “Why do ye teach this people that there
shall be no Christ, to interrupt their rejoicings?” Is the final phrase a hypothetical answer
to Giddonah’s question: “Why do you teach this people that there shall be no Christ? So
that you can interrupt their rejoicings?” Or is he asking “Why do you teach this people
that there will be no Christ, a Christ who will interrupt their rejoicings?” Or is he asking
“Why are you trying to interrupt the people’s rejoicings by preaching that there will be
no Christ?” Are there other possibilities?
8. I’ve always been struck by the Nietzschean tone of 30:23.
9. 30:25 is also a place to think about: Is he imputing a doctrine of original sin to the
Nephites? Is there any chance that he is talking about another parent?
10. Does Alma focus on the question of whether he is charging the priests with lying and
living off of the labor of the people because that rather than blasphemy is the crime, given
what was said earlier about freedom of belief?
11. Alma’s prayer switches to petition on 31:30. However, the first 4 ½ verses (26-30) are
verses of lament rather than petition.
2. on June 2, 2008 at 3:02 pm2 joespencer

Jim posted a link to this post and (as yet quite brief) discussion to LDS-PHIL, to which
Mark Wrathall responded. I thought a word or two of his response is worth posting right
to this discussion. His comments have to do with the petition vs. gratitude discussion,
with which he was (as I am!) a little uncomfortable:
“It seems to me (perhaps contra Derrida) that the ability to thank someone in the right
spirit is an important way of not economizing the gift, of acknowledging the something
cannot be repaid. And not because I couldn’t give back a material equivalent, but because
the giving of the gift is the kind of thing which does not have a merely economic value.
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When I say “thank you” in the right spirit, I am acknowledging this. Why not see the
right kind of thanking, not as a “’mere’ mental assent,” but as part of being “inflected” by
a recognition that God acts in the world to bless us in ways that we haven’t earned and
couldn’t earn?”
Thanks, Mark.
3. on June 2, 2008 at 3:46 pm3 faulconj

Surely context is one reason for the absence of gratitude in Alma’s prayer. His lament is a
response to what he sees among the Zoramites. His petition is also a response to what he
sees there. There isn’t a whole lot to be grateful for when it comes to thinking about the
Zoramites. He is praying for them and for success in converting them.
4. on June 2, 2008 at 4:34 pm4 Robert C.
So much indeed…. I’ll make some general remarks in this comment, and perhaps add
some misc. notes in another comment.
Sign-seeking. I’m fascinated by Joe’s remark about Alma using what I’ll call “empirically
verifiable reasoning” to thwart Korihor’s claims. It seems, then, that there’s an important
difference between looking for signs in a sort of half-hearted way (regarding idolatry, it’s
interesting that idolatry is typically coupled with idleness, at least in the BoM… ) vs.
looking for signs that have already been given (30:44; cf. “the lights in the firmament” in
Genesis 1:14 which are explicitly given as “signs”…). I think this is an interesting way to
think about the self-deception that Joe discussed: the sign-seeker is blind to the signs that
are already there even while asking for a new sign. This way of asking for a new sign
leads to two more topics I’ll discuss more below: “the foolish traditions of the fathers”
and “giving place.” Meanwhile, I think Alma 30:15 might be taken as the key claim
lurking in the background that Alma 32 is directly responding to (”ye cannot know of
things which ye do not see; therefore ye cannot know that there shall be a Christ”). As a
bit of a preview, my (current) take on Alma’s response to this is in drawing a distinction
between what might be called a private sign (i.e., the swelling of the seed which can be
felt and experienced, but not seen) vs. a more public, visible sign (the sprouting of the
seed, which is the point at which faith becomes dormant, at least “in that thing” per
32:34…). Some time ago I posted some preliminary thoughts related to this at the Feast
blog here.
Foolish traditions. In searching the term “tradition” as used in the BoM, it seems only
wicked people pejoratively refer to traditions of the fathers as “foolish” (or “silly” in
30:31)—righteous people tend to use the term the more euphemistic term “incorrect” to
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describe such traditions (cf. Mosiah 1:5; Alma 3:8; 9:17; 17:9; 21:17 26:24; 37:9), although in
the following passages the (seemingly) more judgmental term “wicked” (and even
“abominable” ) is (are) used by more righteous authors: Alma 23:3; 24:7; Helaman 5:19;
15:4, 7. I’m inclined to think that it is always wrong to forget the traditions of one’s fathers
(cf. Alma 9:8-17 esp.), so the question left is how to discern which traditions are correct
and which are incorrect. I think this fleshes out the context of the question of 30:15 about
knowing (or hoping for) things that can’t be seen. Also, I think it’s worth noting that an
underlying theme of the BoM (again, esp. in Alma 9:8-17) seems to be that it is better to
be faithful to incorrect traditions than to forget the traditions of one’s father (I’ve been
thinking about this in relation to the Akedah, as another way of thinking about fidelity
trumping a more metaphysical/propositional notion of truth…).
Giving place. I think the theme of “place” is rather fascinating in these chapters. I’m
running out of time, so I’ll keep this brief: Alma 32:27-28 is the key passage I’m thinking
of where what is critical, through desire and/or belief, is that “ye give place that a seed
may be planted.” This contrasts with the way that poor are dis-placed in 32:1-6 and the
way in which Korihor is described in 30:42, “ye have put off the Spirit of God that it may
have no place in you” (cf. Alma 34:35, “the Spirit of the Lord hath withdrawn from you,
and hath no place in you . . . and this is the final state of the wicked”—as another aside, I
think this “final state” is an interesting phrase in the context of Joe’s questions about
Korihor’s “end”; in this sense, I think the tree of everlasting life imagery at the end of 32
and in chs. 33-34 forms an interesting contrast to this “end”; also, how might we think
about the tree of life in relation to the 3 degrees of glory—do Telestial people partake of
the tree of life and damn themselves? does the angel w/ the sword stand aside at some
point and let everyone partake of the fruit, whether to damnation or not? or perhaps it’s
just silly to try and mix metaphors and scriptural books like this…).
5. on June 2, 2008 at 10:44 pm jennywebb
Wow, Joe. I think you’ve hit upon a number of profitable topics that will generate some
good discussion this week. I only have time right now to make one
observation/response. I really liked how you brought out Korihor as a “facet” of Nephite
society rather than the exceptional apostate, and I think that the text supports the
Freudian reading you give of the situation. What was interesting to me was that I had a
similar reaction to the story of Alma’s father and his experiences in Mosiah 26-27. I think
the traditional approach is to view the society at Zarahemla as essentially “orthodox”
and to see the rebellions of the younger generation as the exception, but actually I find it
more likely that it is the faithful church which is the exception in the broader context of
Zarahemlite society. (A whole rising generation breaking away from the teachings of
their fathers suggests that there was a fair amount of cultural movement and interaction
going on among many peoples [bringing with it the new ideas and systems of belief
which rejected the concept of Christ]. Also, the rising persecutions of believers and the
persecutions of AlmaTY and the sons of Mosiah after their conversion at least presents
the possibility that their position is that of the minority in the society as a whole). What
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all this means, then, in conjunction with your observations, is that we might benefit from
remembering that the history of the Book of Mormon is most often the history of the
minority, the faithful (narrative) thread resisting the popular cultural and social
structures. I just found it interesting that there are hints of the same situation in the
stories of each Alma.
6. on June 3, 2008 at 2:17 am jennywebb

Another quick thought: Joe, you point out that Alma’s concern with signs and knowledge
in chapter 32 has its thematic beginnings in this section in his dealings with Korihor. As I
was mulling that over, I thought it interesting that Korihor’s explanation in verse 53
centers around his original belief in a devil who appeared in the form of an angel. In
other words, the problem that Korihor’s case puts before Alma is that of discerning
between good and evil in a manner that avoids the slipperiness inherent in the
interpretation of (visual) signs. The fact that Alma himself has also had an angelic vision
might make Korihor’s (self) deception an even more pressing matter to Alma. Korihor
and Alma have had in some ways the same formal experience: the difference lay in
content, and specifically in the actions each took in response to their experience. Thinking
through this point has subtly reshaped what I see as the context of Alma’s concerns
entering ch. 32—it seems to thematically emphasize his concern for discernment
throughout the chapter.
7. on June 3, 2008 at 11:06 am7 Robert C.
For those not on lds-phil, here’s a response I wrote to some questions Blake Ostler posed
for Joe:
> [Blake:] I’m still asking why you believe that the Korihor narrative is related to Alma
32. Other than mere proximity in the book in terms of chapter placement, I just don’t see
anything that really connects them in terms of themes or literary allusions. I can see the
issues presented by the Zoramites as related to what Alma teaches about faith in ch. 32,
but I just don’t see a connection regarding Korihor in ch. 30.
Why isn’t the rather striking sign-seeking connection significant enough to warrant
relating these chapters one to another? (Alma 37 is the only other chapter in Alma that
discusses signs, and there in a rather different sense.)
> [Blake:] That said, isn’t Korihor’s chief problem self-deception? At first, Korihor denies
that there is a God (Alma 30:37). Later Korihor states: “I do not deny the existence of
God, but I do not believe that there is a God.” (30:48). Thus, he moves from outright
atheism to a kind of agnostic stance. Later, Korihor confesses that he “always knew there
was a God” (30:52). However, he also confesses that he believed his own lies: “I taught
[falsehoods about God's existence] because they were pleasing unto the carnal mind; and
I taught them, even until I had much success, insomuch that I verily believed that they
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were true; and for this cause, have I withstood the truth” (30:53). Thus, Korihor admits
that he always knew that God existed; but he believed his own lies about God’s existence
because he was so persuasive that he even convinced himself! Korihor is self-deceived in
the classic sense. He both knows that God exists and believes his own rhetoric that God
does not exist.
I think Joe’s point is that Zoramites have essentially the same problem regarding self-
deception (that they think God has favored them over their brethren), only Joe is using
Freudian/Lacanian terminology rather than the term “self-deception.”
> [Blake:] I also don’t see any connection or tie-in between Derrida’s notion of gift-
obligation to give thanks cycle and what the text says about the Zoramite arrogance in
their elect status before God that the Nephites don’t enjoy. The arrogance is not in their
thankfulness, but in their presumption that God loves them more because they are holier
people. I like what you say about the mirror principa (in fact, I like it a lot); but I don’t see
thankfulness being the culprit here as you seem to suggest. In fact, while Derrida has a
point about thanksgiving and obligation imposed by giving a gift, I believe that it is
fundamentally headed in a direction that just doesn’t serve. What D&C 88 has to say
about rejoicing in acceptance of a gift seems much more insightful to me: “33 For what
doth it profit a man if a gift is bestowed upon him, and he receive not the gift? Behold, he
rejoices not in that which is given unto him, neither rejoices in him who is the giver of the
gift.” If we don’t rejoice in the gift that is given, then we haven’t truly received the gift
[at] all. In fact, we give a gift in return just by rejoicing in the sheer gift that is given to us.
The gift is only allowed to exist as a gift when we accept it and recognize it for the sheer
gift that it is.
Blake, I like the issue you raise by contrasting the kind of gratitude-for-a-gift advocated
in D&C 88 and the twisted kind of gratitude displayed by the Zoramites. I do, however,
think that Derrida can be quite helpful in thinking this tension. I take(/appropriate)
Derrida as describing a danger that comes with a certain kind of thankfulness, namely an
overly-presumptive thankfulness that bends the meaning of a gift to suit one’s own
purposes (or, better: neuroses/self-deceptions). God has blessed the Zoramites, but they
interpret this gift poorly and offer gratitude for an imaginary gift rather than the real gift
that was given. It is the danger of this kind of imaginary interpretation that I see Derrida
and Marion pointing to in their warnings about metaphysically-laden ways of receiving a
gift. The point of a gift is that we can’t ascribe a good reason for the giver giving it to us
because if we do, this will always be something we impose onto the giver’s motivations.
And once we do this, then the gift aspect of the gift is undermined (i.e., economized). It
seems to me that this is precisely what is common to both Korihor and the Zoramites, a
kind of self-deceptive bending towards one’s own motivations/imaginations that covers
over what is real (and thus what is unknown about the giver and the gift). I think Adam
Miller’s “Testimony and Atonement” article in Element v. 2(2) does a really good job of
linking this kind of bending-towards-one’s-own-desires to sign-seeking (i.e., Alma 32), so
I highly recommend reading (or rereading that article). In short, the problem with sign-
seeking is that it mistakes the sign for the real event underlying the sign (i.e., revelation),
and so the problem with sign-seekers is that they pursue signs rather than the source of
the signs themselves (i.e., God—I think Adam aptly quotes Timothy on this point,
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“having a form of godliness but denying the power thereof”), which is, again, essentially
what Korihor and the Zoramites are doing.
Okay, I’m trying to get back to this discussion now. Much to respond to!
Jim #1:
I very much like your points 5 and 6. The question of Nephite equality is one that needs
to be addressed seriously by someone (Bushman has a paper that opens the lid of the can
but that never deals with all the worms that then come crawling out). Where does one
begin? And—I suppose I have to ask this question to keep myself focused—how much
does the question of equality bear on Alma 32? (I ask that as a genuine question, though
the more I think about it, the more I’m convincing myself that the answer is: A good
deal!)
Your point 11 has a parallel in the Zoramite prayer. They begin with their creed (which
climaxes with the one point of knowledge they are willing to claim), and only in the
second half of the prayer do they begin to thank. Perhaps each prayer should be split in
two: the Zoramite creed can be set against Alma’s lamentation (how interesting!), and the
Zoramite gratitude can be set against Alma’s petition. I wonder where this kind of
breakdown might lead.
Robert #4:
I like the distinction you draw between signs sought and signs given. I’ve wrestled over
the past week with the signs of verse 44 (I take it that this verse draws on the shared
theology of Genesis 1 and Psalm 104), and I think you’ve provided the key to dealing
with these issues, though a good deal of work remains to be done riddling it all out. I
imagine that we ought to do that work, since we will be grappling with this question of
signs at much greater length in Alma 32.
I’m wondering, moreover, about what to make of the distinction you make between
private and public signs. Is your concept of a private sign something like what I discuss
as the content of fundamentalist discourse in my “four discourses” paper? In that case, it
is precisely the publication of a sign that makes (like the divulging of a name bound by
secrecy) it a kind of adultery because one attempts to justify one’s faith/fidelity as well as
the truth by an appeal to what must remain entirely a private affair. Hmm… very
helpful.
The obvious Freudian themes behind any and every mention of the “traditions of the
fathers” makes your comments on this point very provocative. It seems to me that you
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outline perhaps four relations to one’s inherited traditions, to one’s fathers: (1) uncritical
obedience = boredom(?), (2) critical obedience = love, (3) un/critical disobedience = hate,
and (4) simple forgetting = ?. I want to think about this more carefully, because I imagine
the several possibilities would outline the several possible ways of responding
to/interpreting grace.
I too think that “place” will be a vital theme in our study of Alma 32, but I’m not at all yet
sure where that will take us. Here is a list of the references to place in Alma 30-35: 30:42;
31:13, 21; 32:5, 22, 27, 28; 34:26, 35, 38; 35:13.
Jenny #5:
Very helpful thoughts here. Might we be able to say that the minority status of the
faithful is tied to the radicalism that characterizes them? I can’t help but wonder whether
our assumption that the Nephites were generally righteous is a consequence of our own
misunderstanding of faith, of our thinking that members of the Church are faithful
because they are members rather than that there are few who are (radically) faithful. (I
imagine that this same phenomenon is what leads us to feel that all is relatively well in
Zion and to dismiss time dedicated to teaching and instruction in the Church: we don’t
really see the need to do much more than kick back and play hangman with the youth or
to talk about hunting with the elders or to discuss how to find decent childcare services
with the sisters because we figure that “those who need to hear the lesson aren’t there.”)
Jenny #6:
Alma and Korihor having had essentially parallel experiences—that will have been the
vital insight here! As you say, it is this pairing that will color all of what Alma is doing in
Alma 32.
It seems vital to me, reflecting on your insight, that Alma knows nothing of Korihor’s
experience until Korihor writes it from within his imposed silence. Nothing, I say, but
that’s not quite right: Alma accuses Korihor, while they are still talking, of being
influenced by a “lying spirit.” So perhaps it would be better to say that Alma only has his
wager confirmed at the end of the encounter when Korihor writes from within his
imposed silence. This eventuality highlights the forward momentum of this narrative:
Alma is left with this shocking parallel to his own experience, and that shock carries over
into his words to the Zoramites.
This makes me wonder whether it wouldn’t be best to see the editor/narrator of this
broader story (Alma 30-35) drawing out the narrative connections between Korihor and
the Zoramites at the end of chapter 30 and the beginning of chapter 31 precisely in order
to draw attention to the narrative momentum of chapter 30 and to help that momentum’s
carrying into chapter 32 be recognized by the reader. The Korihor experience must be
interpreted as Alma’s coming to see, perhaps for the first time, really, how slippery the
interpretation of signs (of “private” signs?) really is, and that is what determines how
Alma handles subsequent experiences.
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I wonder how that might affect our interpretation of 31:5 with its emphasis on the word
(the tangle of the imaginary and the symbolic) over the sword (the real, or the violence of
the real)…
Robert #7:
I won’t bother to copy into this discussion any of the further discussion with Blake.
But I do want to draw out of your response here what seems to me to be an implicit
point: the best way of sorting out the apparent disparagement of gratitude in this
narrative is to think about a distinction between (sorry for all the Lacanian terminology
here everyone!) imaginary and symbolic gratitude (to put it in Marion’s terms: idolatrous
and iconistic gratitude). I think that is a good way to avoid simply saying that Alma 31
dismisses gratitude in prayer. Of course, if gratitude must be fundamentally
reconfigured in order to be infused with grace (to be so many “groanings which cannot
be uttered,” etc.), then it is not clear how it could be transferred from the oral to the
written without being exposed to the danger of slipping into the idolatrous.
Yikes! I don’t know that I’m going to be able to keep up with this, but let me keep trying.
#2 (Mark via Joe): I don’t disagree with Mark’s point. Indeed, it is an important
corrective to a possible misunderstanding of Joe’s observation—with which I also do not
disagree.
I am not sure, however, how much either has to do with the text when we take it the
pericope of chapters 30-31 as a whole. (Of course “not sure” is not the same as “sure
not.”) Like my observations about equality and the possibly ambiguity of “crime,” there
may be something interesting there, but I’m not sure that it is important to chapter 32 or
to the story as a whole.
#4 (Robert C): Your note that “foolish” and “silly” describe the traditions of the fathers
only for the wicked and that the righteous refer to those traditions as “false” or, when
needing to condemn them, as “wicked” or “abominable” is veryhelpful. It is another of
those things that I don’t have any idea what to do with except, for now, to file it a way
waiting to see where it is relevant.
I do think, however, that you’re right that it at least suggests that we ought not to forget
the traditions of our fathers. (Doesn’t the Lectures on Faith argue that knowledge of God
comes either through revelation or, most commonly, through the tradition?
I hope you will develop somewhere your reflection on place.
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#5 (Jenny Webb): Isn’t it always the case that the faithful church is the exception? Can it
be otherwise?
That sounds arrogant because it sounds like I assume that we are in that faithful church
(the Church of the Firstborn?). Looking around my ward and thinking about my
faithfulness in my callings, I have to confess that I hope but doubt that I am. It is much
easier to profess righteousness than to practice it.
#6 (Jenny Webb): It is as if, in chapter 32, one of Alma’s worries is that the poor who
cannot worship at the Rameumpton may be easy prey for someone like Korihor.
For some reason I’d never before see the parallel between Alma being converted by an
angel and Korihor being “converted” by an angel. Thanks. So—big surprise—the story
really begins in Mosiah 27: Alma is converted by an angel (Mosiah 27) and preaches the
gospel (Alma 4:19ff.); Korihor is converted by an angel (Alma 30:53) and preaches the
anti-gospel (Alma 30:6ff.). Clearly we should read this confrontation typologically. Can
we understand chapters 32-33 as the response to that type? If so, how does the first part
of 32 fit into the scheme?
#7 (Robert C): Good responses. I think I may be more on the side of Mark and Blake,
however. I’m not sure just how much Derrida’s discussion of the gift is relevant. Besides,
in the discussion between Derrida and Marion on the gift, I’m more sympathetic to
Marion, for whom the gift is possible.
#8 (Joe Spencer): I think the idea of seeing a parallel between the parts of the two prayers
(creed : thanks :: lamentation : petition) could be fruitful. I pointed out earlier that the
petition (and the absence of thanks) can only be understood in relation to the
lamentation. The parallel reminds us that the same thing is true of the Zoramite prayer:
the gratitude of that prayer can only be understood in its relation to its creedal claims.
I wonder whether you ought not to read chapter 6 of Marion’s In Excess (“In the Name:
How to Avoid Speaking of It”). That is, to my mind, where Marion most explicitly
explores an alternative to deconstruction and, therefore, I think, something also to
replace the imaginary/symbolic alternation. He speaks of de-nomination: that which
both names and unnames. (He also gives one of the best short accounts of negative
theology I know of, one that undid my understanding of it.)
10. on June 4, 2008 at 4:18 am10 joespencer
Jim says: “It is as if, in chapter 32, one of Alma’s worries is that the poor who cannot
worship at the Rameumpton may be easy prey for someone like Korihor.”
Very well put. Very provocative.
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As for Marion’s last chapter in In Excess: I actually reread it maybe two or three months
ago, but in a broader attempt to reconcile Badiou and Marion (I was not particularly
trying to think about Marion and Lacan). Without going back right now to that particular
essay, my general take on Marion and Lacan is that Marion’s idol and icon can be
mapped respectively onto Lacan’s imaginary and symbolic. That is to say, I understand
what Lacan calls a symbolic relation to be a relation precisely in which one speaks “in the
name.” I find it powerfully significant that the last few dozen pages of Being Given mark a
kind of tournant psychoanalytique for Marion, one that I assume (without having yet begun
to read it) is coming to fruition in The Erotic Phenomenon (that is, if the title is any
indication!).
In short, I wonder whether it our understandings of Lacan rather than of Marion that
diverge. At the very least, I take Marion (with whom I began) as a key to reading Lacan
rather than vice versa.
11. on June 4, 2008 at 4:26 am11 juliemariesmith
Joe, thank you so much for sharing these insights with us; I particularly like your
observation about petitioning and gratitude in the prayers.
The fact that the Rameumptom prayer uses the language of belief and Alma doesn’t
causes us, I think, to question *words* and the work that they can or can’t do. This
problematizes the entire endeavor of reading the words of Alma 32, which is also
complicated by, as you observe, the fact that “Korihor can only grapple with immanent
grace in writing.”
“the whole in their logic”
Not sure if that was deliberate, but it was perfect either way.
Re Jim’s #3: I can think of some ways that Alma could have expressed gratitude in this
situation: being grateful for the opportunity to teach them correct principles, for example,
or that he got there before they were destroyed by God’s wrath.
Jim writes, “Alma is converted by an angel (Mosiah 27) and preaches the gospel (Alma
4:19ff.); Korihor is converted by an angel (Alma 30:53) and preaches the anti-gospel
(Alma 30:6ff.).”
Thanks for sharing that insight; I suspect that it is vitally important to understanding
what is happening here.
Some random thoughts:
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30:2 The dead are not numbered, but the years are. Why?
30:7 and 8: It appears that the scripture (”Choose you this day”) is used to explain why a
law against men’s beliefs would bring them onto unequal grounds. How does that
scripture do that work? (Or is the scripture cited for some other reason?)
30:9 The “or rather” makes me think that some part of what came before it was perhaps
mistaken or misleading or unclear. (Or is there another explanation of “or rather”?) What
was it?
30:7-11 Why are these verses here? The surface answer is that it explains why Korihor
couldn’t be punished, but the aside in v12 with the addition of just a few words (”And
the law could have no hold upon him because there was no law against a belief.”) could
just as easily have accomplished that.
30:20 They apparently did have a law against a man’s belief! Were they “more wise”
because they rejected his message (contra v18) or more wise because they threw him out
instead of allowing him to preach? Is it possible to read v7-11 in a way that doesn’t imply
that the author/editor approved of their law? Or are the high priests who kick him out
acting contrary to the law by punishing him for preaching? Or was exile not considered a
punishment?
30:22 Why do we hear what the high priest in (of?) Gideon said to him but not what the
HP in Jershon said to him?
30:26 What is going on with the end of this verse? Why does it end with a dash and no
“but” statement like all of the other ones do?
30:30 What precisely is blasphemous about what he said? (Or: What does what he said
teach us about the definition of ‘blasphemous’?) Or does it mean that in addition to what
he said before, he also blasphemed?
30:35 I’m intrigued by the alignment of joy and deception–does it mean that it can’t
deceive them since it is causing such joy? Is the presence of joy evidence of no deception?
30:42 I’m thinking about the contrast between “possessed with” and “put off” and, later
in the verse, that the Spirit has a place “in” you but the devil “over” you. It seems to be a
significant difference but I am not sure how to articulate it.
30:44 Why would the “regular form” of the motion of the planets witness to a creator?
30:47 In what ways were his words flattering?
30:51 Why is he writing TO Korihor? Is the writing act significant? Is he not clear on what
exactly had happened? Is he deaf as well as dumb (and, if so, why isn’t this mentioned?)
Could this possibly be a comical moment? Is it a commentary on the written word?
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30:52 If, at his most delusional, Korihor still believed this “angel,” then he knew that
there was a higher power making demands on humans, so what then of v17?
30:53 Does “I taught them . . . insomuch that I verily believed that they were true” imply
that he didn’t believe them at first? If he didn’t, why did he teach them?
30:56 What is the link to begging? Had K made his money with his mouth before all of
this?
30:58 Something is bothering me about the speed of their repentance. (Or is it just the
abbreviated account?) And what function does the repetition of the mention of begging
for food serve?
Given the end of the chapter, we assume that K had not genuinely repented. But cf. v52-
54. Can we determine what was missing (or present) that means that this was not
genuine repentance?
Um . . . none of those smiley faces were intentional. I am not sure what sins I committed
to cause them to appear. [Fixed: I took off the auto-emoticons function. For a group that
uses parentheses as much as we do, it is a dangerous thing to have them on!]
I’m not sure when I’ll have time to properly respond, but several of Julie’s questions have
my brain inundated with thoughts I have not had before—thank you, thank you, Julie!
14. on June 4, 2008 at 8:22 pm14 Adam Miller
I’ve really enjoyed the discussion so far – and I’m really looking forward to Joe’s concise
summary of it’s main points :)
A couple of (general) thoughts of my own about Alma 30:
vs. 9, “Now if a man desired to serve God, it was his privilege; or rather, if he believed
in God it was his privilege to serve him . . .”
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Granted Joe’s insightful comments about the distinct uses to which the word
“belief/believe” is put in Alma 31, I’m unsure about the extent to which we’ll be able to
avoid reading the word (at least one some occasions) as a synonym for faith. It seems to
me that in Alma 32.16, for instance, “belief” may well be intended as synonymous with
faith (though I suppose we’ll have to work that out when we get there – and I’m certainly
willing to be persuaded otherwise).
I bring that up here because I think that vs. 9 offers an interesting take on the meaning of
belief that may be helpful in working out the meaning of faith and/or belief in Alma 32.
Here, the “or rather” of the verse pretty explicitly defines “believing in God” as the
“desire to serve God.”
It interests me that this parallelism casts belief in terms of desire rather than knowledge or
evidence. We “believe” to the extent that we “desire.” Here, one could “know” without
“believing” what one knows. (Or, perhaps more interestingly, one might “believe” with
certainty what one doesn’t “know” objectively because belief would fundamentally be a
question about the certainty of one’s desire?) In this context, it might make sense that
Korihor can both say that that he doesn’t “believe in God” (see vs. 37-38) and that he
“always knew there was a God” (vs. 52).
(Note, though, that Alma doesn’t stick very well to this distinction in vs. 41 when he
claims “I know that believest, but thou art possessed with a lying spirit.”)
vs. 13, “Why do ye look for a Christ? For no man can know of anything which is to
come.”
This is one of a number interesting passages in Alma 30 where someone claims to know
not some objective thing or fact but what other people do or can know (cf. 42, 48, etc.). This
bit of reflexive epistemology is an interesting issue. The argument between Alma and
Korihor seems to have at least as much to do with making claims about what the other
person does or does not know as it does with making claims about what is objectively the
case.
This ties nicely with the central role played by deception in the chapter. The possibility of
lying and deceiving is at the heart of the charges and counter-charges. Deception is
possible because we (normally) don’t know what the other person knows or doesn’t
know.
Note, though, that it’s not just deception itself, but the possibility of deception that is here
gumming up the works. Perhaps the trouble isn’t directly with what one knows or
doesn’t know, but with one’s relationship to not knowing what the other does or doesn’t
know (about what you do or don’t know about what they do or don’t know, etc.)?
Perhaps the trouble has to do with working out a way of properly relating to this
intersubjective recursivity?
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Also: when one lacks a desire to serve (i.e., when one is filled with a desire to fulfill one’s
own interests), one might find even the possibility of deception to be paralyzing. More on
this in a moment.
vs. 6, “. . . he was Anti-Christ, for he began to preach unto the people against the
prophecies which had been spoken by the prophets, concerning the coming of Christ.”
Korihor repeats (more or less) this same line about the connection between Christ, the
future, and prophecy in vs. 12 and (indirectly) in vs. 22.
To be anti-Christ is to be anti-prophecy. Could we say that to be anti-Christ is to militate

against the possibility of speaking/acting in the future anterior tense?
Doesn’t Korihor’s position primarily consist of an appeal to a “flat” temporality in which

everyone is just what he/she is (cf. 17) and when you’re dead, that’s it (cf. 18)?
This kind of flat temporality certainly denies a place to hope and faith which are both
modes of acting in the present on the basis of what “will have been” true. Hope,
according to Korihor, is by definition “foolish and vain” and is experienced as a kind of
yoke or bondage to be shrugged off at all costs (vs. 13).
This flat temporality also seems to deny a meaningful place to the temporality ofdesire,
which – as vs. 9 indicates – is the very stuff of belief.
Further, to come back to my previous point about the paralyzing nature of the possibility
of deception when our own interests are given priority: isn’t this another version of
foreclosing our relation to the future (i.e., foreclosing hope, faith, etc.) out of fear?
My best,
Adam
15. on June 4, 2008 at 8:40 pm15 jennywebb

Adam, could this kind of flat temporality also be seen thematically in the situation of the
Zoramites and the Rameumptom? Their beliefs that God is eternally static (31:15), that
“there shall be no Christ” (31:16), and that their salvation is also in a sense static (their
election is already a done deal, 31:17) all seem similar to the point you make about
Korihor’s position. And as such, Alma could then be concerned with introducing a
temporality of desire/hope/faith in his response.
16. on June 5, 2008 at 12:42 am16 Adam Miller

Jenny,
You’re almost certainly right about this. But I haven’t yet re-read Alma 31 :)
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Tomorrow . . .
A couple of brief thoughts about Alma 31:

vs. 5, “the preaching of the word had a great tendency to lead the people to do that
which was just . . .”
Keeping an eye on Alma 32, it interested me that in this verse a line is drawn directly
between the word and justice so that, rather than a “word/faith” pair we get a
“word/justice” pair.
Not that this second pairing excludes the first, but that it perhaps gives us a clue about
how to read the “word/faith” pair in Alma 32. In many ways, the question of
justice/injustice is obviously central to the socio-political context for Alma’s conversation
with the Zoramite poor.
I suppose the question we’ll need to answer is: what exactly is it about the word that
prompts faith/justice? And how would we go about thinking faith/justice as a pair?
A final thought about this: does the word lead people to do what is just because of the
particular mode of power appropriate to it’s deployment - a mode here characterized by
its “leading” of people and by its being a power that operates on “the mind” rather than
the body?
So that we have a constellation of concepts here: the word, faith, justice, and the mind.
The word as operator, faith/justice as the effect, and the mind as the site/object being
effected?
vs. 36-37, “. . . they were filled with the Holy Spirit. And after that they did separate
themselves one from another, taking no thought for themselves what they should eat,
or what they should drink, or what they should put on.”
Unlike the Zoramites who can’t think about anything but “their costly apparel, and their
ringlets, and their bracelets, and their ornaments of gold, and all their precious thing
which they are ornamented with” (vs. 28), the missionaries find themselves suffering
from a kind of “ornament amnesia.”
It’s interesting that vs. 28 and vs. 37 are both presented as the direct results of the prayers
variously offered by the Zoramites and Alma. The Zoramite prayer fastens their minds
on their own status of ornamentation while Alma’s prayer produces the aforementioned
ornament amnesia.
This distinction leads us directly back to the question of justice.
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Moreover, it leads us directly back to the effect of the word on the mind. What effect does
the word have on the mind? It will “cause you to take no thought for yourself.” It will
bring to an end a certain kind of compulsive thinking in which we keep checking - again
and again and again - to make sure that all our ringlets, and bracelets, and ornaments of
gold are properly in place.
In vs. 38 this freedom from “ornamentally compulsive thinking,” this ego-amnesia, is

tied to the way that their afflictions (e.g., their ornamentlessness) are “swallowed up in
the joy of Christ.” Especially important though is the fact the final words of the chapter
(as Joe originally pointed out) attribute this ornamental amnesia “to the prayer of Alma;
and this because he prayed in faith.”
OK, I’ve got a few moments now, let’s see what I can get typed up regarding the many
thoughts I’ve had this week:
Joe #8: “it is precisely the publication of a sign that makes (like the divulging of a name bound by
secrecy) it a kind of adultery because one attempts to justify one’s faith/fidelity as well as the truth
by an appeal to what must remain entirely a private affair.”
I’ve been thinking about this issue more, esp. b/c I just read for Sunday school Mosiah 18
where Alma goes about teaching the word “privately among the people . . . that it might
not come to the knowledge of the king” (vv. 1, 3). For convenience, here is a scriptural
search for the term “private” at lds.org.
This also lead me to looking how the Greek terms idios and monos are used in the New
Testament, and I have to say I’m quite fascinated with John 16:32 where Jesus, as the
visible God, says “ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone:
and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me.” I think this is esp. interesting in
light of the previous discussion of the Paraclete. I’m inclined to think of the private
witness of the Spirit as parallel to Alma 32:16’s description of “they who humble
themselves without being compelled to be humble . . . without stubbornness of heart,”
though I’m still perplexed by the later phrase in that verse, “without being brought to
know the word, or even compelled to know.” That is, my conjecture is that public signs
are what compel one to believe.
Also, I think this private-public issue should be carefully thought in light of Alma 33:8’s
warning not to pray to be heard of men….
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Regarding Alma’s lament in Alma 31:
First, I think it Enoch’s vision in Moses 7 has some very interesting parallels to this—the
weeping and the preaching of the gospel (Moses 7:19, 27) as well as Satan’s chain that
darkens the earth with his rejoicing angels (Moses 7:26) and Korihor’s rather heart-
wrenching words explaining how he was deceived by Satan appearing as an angel (Alma
30:53). Also, the use of the term knowledge in Moses 7:32 (“I gave unto them their
knowledge, in the day I created them”) is intriguing though perplexing to me….
Next, I think when contrasted with the first, self-righteous part of the Zoramites’ prayer,
Alma’s lament seems to be a good illustration of Adam’s “Testmony and Atonement”
thesis regarding the danger of mistaking the signs of God for God himself. The creedal
statements of beliefs become, like the law for the Pharisees or the “lips that do honour
me” in Isa 29:13, a substitute for a real testimony or experience. I also think this contrast
highlights an interesting example of the frequent abase themselves / exalt themselves
pattern (i.e., Alma’s lament as abasing himself). To try and link this up with the Lacanian
discussion above, it seems that by abasing oneself first, one comes into contact with a real
experience that can then be symbolized, whereas the imaginary pattern is to exalt one’s
own desires at the expense of what is real—or something like that, perhaps….
I’m wondering how the foregoing might be thought in terms of the scientific method,
and in terms of how one reads scripture. To seek for a sign to confirm one’s belief seems
similar to having a pre-existing theory (theological or scientific) that one tries to confirm
with experimental/empirical/textual evidence. On the other hand, perhaps this is just a
description of the scientific method badly applied. If one first “agnostically” allows
experimental/empirical/textual data to speak, and then one begins to form rational
conceptions, models, or hypotheses based on this data, isn’t that similar to the process
that Alma suggests in Alma 32, and the process that leads Alma to lament here in Alma
31? Hmmm….
My apologies, everyone, for not getting back to this discussion, as well as for the further
apology I’m about to make for not getting to it right now. Yesterday and today took me
by surprise for extreme busy-ness, and I’ve much to say still about all of this.
What frightens me most is the fact that the task of summarizing this marvelous and yet
ridiculously fragmented discussion lies ahead.
I’ll try both to respond and to summarize tomorrow.
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Regarding the equal/nonequal grounds bit in Alma 30:7-11 (sparked by many comments
above):
What’s wrong with reading this in terms of an acts/beliefs dichotomy: one is punished
for one’s (publicly verifiable) acts, and not one’s (private) beliefs, so what one
merely says (whether imaginary or symbolic..?) regarding one’s beliefs does not have
bearing on how one’s acts are judged? I think Jim suggested this was a bad way of
reading this, but I don’t understand why.
I think a couple interesting cross-references regarding this topic are as follows:
• 1 Ne 17:35 – “the Lord esteemeth all flesh in one; he that is righteous is favored of God”
(I think “righteous” should be read here with a strong actionconnotation, as with the term
“serve” in Alma 30:7-11…)
• Mosiah 27:3ff; 29:38ff – Mosiah establishes “equality” (so “that every man should have
an equal chance through the land; yea every man expressed a willingness to answer for
his own sins”) as he moves the Nephites away from monarchy
It’s hard for me not to read “equal” in a liberal, “the law is blind” sense in the above
passages (as I think Joseph and the early church would’ve been esp. inclined to read this),
so I’m anxious for others to help me see other possibilities or weaknesses in this reading.
Also, regarding use of the term “crime,” my sense is that this is generally used in the
BofM as a synonym for “sin,” and I would be inclined to emphasize the word “done” in
Alma 30:11: “For there was a law that men should be judged according to their crimes.
Nevertheless, there was no law against a man’s belief; therefore, a man was punished
only for the crimes which he had done; therefore all men were on equal grounds.” (If
crimes were only illegal acts, I think the second sentence beginning with “Nevertheless”
seems awkward.) If this is indeed the case, then I don’t think there’s a problem with
Korihor’s use of the term “crime” in verse 17 (“and whatsoever a man did was no
crime[/sin]”).
22. on June 8, 2008 at 2:35 am22 jennywebb
Joe, I’m glad it’s you and not me in charge of summarizing all of this …
As I was re-reading ch. 30 again, there were several phrases that struck me simply
because we see them echoed in Alma 32. Here’s the list:
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30:13 “O ye that are bound down under a foolish and a vain hope”
30:15 “How do ye know of their surety? Behold, ye cannot know of things which ye do
not see”
Korihor’s criticism here inversely parallels the language that Alma will later use to
describe faith. As an anti-christ, it appears that Korihor is textually inscribed as an anti-
faith-in-christ. I think Korihor’s legacy is ultimately contextual rather than historical—he
doesn’t have much success among the people of Jershon or Gideon, he doesn’t appear to
have established a following that will impact future Nephite history (like Nehor), yet
Mormon includes his story precisely for the thematic context (and contrast) it provides
for Alma’s sermon in Alma 32.
30:39 “I know there is a God, and also that Christ shall come”
30:40 “And now what evidence have ye that there is not God”
30:46 “I am grieved … that ye will still resist the spirit of the truth”
A few things in Alma’s response also echoed language and concepts that Alma will
expand on later. When we’re discussing what Alma means by words like “know” and
“evidence,” it might be useful to recall how he employed them here. Also, ch. 32’s
discussion of the effects of giving the seed a place in one’s heart (see verse 28) appears to
be thematically connected to 30:46—resisting the spirit of truth being parallel to not
giving the seed a place. It again might be useful to recall Korihor and his actions when
discussing how one gives place to the seed, and also again later in 32:38-39 where Alma
speaks of what happens when the tree is neglected (Alma’s assessment of Korihor in ch.
30 appears to be that Korihor had, at least to some degree, knowledge and understanding
both of the Nephite culture and of their religious practices, something that indicates he
could have had “a tree” growing at one point).
There has been so much provided this week by everyone—I wish I had more time to
respond to some of the comments I found so interesting. Thanks to all.
Jenny
Julie asks: “Is it possible to read v7-11 in a way that doesn’t imply that the author/editor
approved of their law?”
I think that my reading a continuity between the Nephite obedience of the law with its
hints of (Freudian) neurotic religion and the law that allows for Korihor’s preaching is a
step along this pathway, at least.
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Julie says: “I’m intrigued by the alignment of joy and deception–does it mean that it can’t
deceive them since it is causing such joy? Is the presence of joy evidence of no
deception?”
Yes, I like this very much. Joy (the real?… oh how I can’t wait to get to Alma’s “Is not this
real?”!!!) as what ruptures language and hence the very possibility of deception? Joy
= jouissance?
Julie asks: “If, at his most delusional, Korihor still believed this “angel,” then he knew
that there was a higher power making demands on humans, so what then of v17?”
Clark Goble has been talking on LDS-PHIL about reading Korihor as being involved in
a rival cult rather than being rooted in “Dawkins-like atheism.” That might explain
things. But I wonder if it isn’t better to simply see the text as showing that it is precisely
the loquacious pretension of atheism to atheism that betrays (as Alma sees) its essentialy
theism. Over against this, what Korihor sees as Alma’s essential theism turns out,
marvelously, to be a thoroughgoingatheism (in the sense that Alma has an
antifoundationalist or non-Aristotelian theology). Korihor turns out to be exactly what he
criticizes, and the thing he criticizes turns out to be exactly what he pretends to espouse.
Julie says: “Something is bothering me about the speed of their repentance. (Or is it just
the abbreviated account?)”
Yes, me as well. I’ll take comfort in the last words of chapter 35, where it is clear that
whatever repentance took place did not last very long. Perhaps they are too much like
the Korihor they have taken as reason for repentance.
Adam says: “It interests me that this parallelism casts belief in terms of desire rather than
knowledge or evidence.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you for this insight! It occurs to me now that we have to
read every instance of “believe” in chapter 31 through this connection. That is, the
Zoramite pretension to belief is a pretension to desire. Maybe, in fact, it would be best to
read the Zoramite words concerning belief over against Alma’s petition (and, so, the
Zoramite gratitude over against Alma’s lament… chiastically, in essence): Alma’s
petition is driven by his desire, but he finds no need to state that desire, only to ask;
while the Zoramites can’t stop talking about their desire precisely because it is ultimately
false.
Adam asks: “Doesn’t Korihor’s position primarily consist of an appeal to a “flat”

temporality in which everyone is just what he/she is (cf. 17) and when you’re dead,
that’s it (cf. 18)?”
I think this is a very good way of putting it. It is fascinating that Korihor’s teachings give
death an odd stasis: “when a man was dead,” etc.
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Adam summarizes: “So that we have a constellation of concepts here: the word, faith,
justice, and the mind. The word as operator, faith/justice as the effect, and the mind as
the site/object being effected?”
I like this very much. What is so interesting is that this constellation is set against
another, which I would riddle out thus: the sword as operator, signs/law as the effect,
and (again) the mind as the site/object being effected. Could these two constellations be
said to be idolatry and iconism, religion and atheism/atheology, the imaginary and the
symbolic, etc.?
Faith as amnesia… brilliant!
Robert’s ongoing reflections on the private and public meet up nicely with a book I began
reading yesterday, which I’ll take the privilege of recommending: Eli Zaretsky, Secrets of
the Soul: A Social and Cultural History of Psychoanalysis. Zaretsky’s argument is that as
Calvinism was to the first industrial revolution (Weber’s famous thesis in The Protestant
Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism), Freudian psychoanalysis was to the second industrial
revolution. Zaretsky thus articulates psychoanalysis as a thematization of the personal
(read: “private”) as such, as well as a methodology for disentangling the personal (again:
“private”) from the familial (read: “public”). I in turn want to read this as suggesting that
psychoanalysis (I’m obviously following/clarifying Badiou here) is essentially the
thought of the radically subjective subject as radical (that is, of the “person” as a radical
or revolutionary). With all the psychoanalytic themes we’ve been reading into Alma 30-
31 (and will be reading into Alma 32), might it be best to see Alma’s work here as that of
disentangling those to whom he preaches from the familial/public so as to free up the
possibility of radical (and radically subjective) fidelity/faith? (On that count, it is
interesting that Amulek will be involved in the preaching, since he specifically undid his
family in the name of radical fidelity to this… movement.)
Finally, Jenny: thanks for these connections between Korihor’s argument and Alma’s
words in ch. 32. Very helpful.
In reviewing Mosiah 18:19-20 today, I was quite struck by the contrast between the
minimalist(/atheological/”atheistic”) nature of what was taught in the church under
Alma (”nothing save it were the things which he had taught, and which had been spoken
by the mouth of the holy prophets . . . . Yeah . . . nothing save it were repentance and
faith on the Lord”) and the theologically-laden prayer of the Zoramites….
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Yes, during Sunday School today, I was very much attuned to themes of atheology and
radicalism. Without getting too much astray here, it proved quite interesting to compare
Alma’s revolutionary church with Limhi’s statist people. Whereas the former broke with
all legalism, the latter emphasized and used legalism in order to get things done.
Moreover, while each group escapes with a text in hand (the Jaredites plates on the one
hand, Abinadi’s speech as written by Alma on the other), only one has the ability to read
theirs (the other group is left with an untranslatable text).
One way to read the encounter in Alma 32 would thus be this: the group that approaches
Alma is attempting to do something radical but just can’t see how it must be done, and
Alma’s task is to riddle out for them what it means to be a radical or radically faithful.
Joe,
This may be neither here nor there but I’ve been thinking a little about rhetorical
“strategery” lately and I’ve been thinking in particular about the words “radical” and
“revolutionary.”
I like both of these words for a lot of reasons (especially knowing precisely what you’ve
got in mind when you use them), but I wonder if they’re so loaded as to be counter-
productive in many of our gospel oriented discussions. If I were to use either of those
words with my Mother, she’d just roll her eyes and (rightly from her perspective?) start
thinking about something else :)
I’m not sure what other words to suggest in their place, but I wonder if we might be able
to find some vocabulary that might convey the same ideas without the “liberal/hippie”
baggage?
If anyone’s got any ideas about this, I’d be extremely interested to hear them.
My best,
Adam
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I wonder about these terms as well. Though I’m convinced that “revolutionary” is more
conducive to Mormon culture than “radical,” primarily because Joseph spoke of “laying
a foundation to revolutionize the whole world”; and the rhetoric of the American
revolution can always be drawn on to soften the blow.
But then I wonder whether “radical” has such a negative connotation among members of
the Church. If I were to say that the early saints were a group of radicals, I think that
might be objected to, but I’m not sure I see anyone objecting to the claim that
Mormonism made a radical shift, or that Mormonism is radically different from other
religions, etc.
In a word, isn’t it how the word is couched rather than which word is used?
I think that first quoting a well-regarded yet “safe” authority (e.g., Joseph Smith or a
recent prophet or member of the 12) that uses such a term—say, along the lines of Joe’s
examples—is a good way to do this, at least that’s how I’d Couch it….
Discussion Summary: Alma 30-31

What seems to me to have been the most vital insight during the course of our
discussions this week is the apparent structural parallel between the “conversions” of
Alma and Korihor. Most vital: one can hang every other narrative, thematic, or linguistic
connection between chapters 30-31 and chapter 32 on this insight. What this insight
reveals is that Alma’s primary and guiding concern, in his sermon to the Zoramites, is to
disambiguate these two structures. That is, Alma 32 might most profitably be read as a
more or less systematic working out of how Alma’s conversion is structurally different
from Korihor’s.
If this, then, focuses us forward, it also highlights what absolutely must not be missed in
chapters 30-31: the terminological, thematic, and even narrative ties between these two
chapters and the sermonic chapter that follows them are all rooted in the fact that there
one finds so many clues, more or less unsystematically scattered about a narrative text,
that are necessary for the work of the disambiguation undertaken in chapter 32.
On one reading, this would seem to set chapters 30-31 in a kind of subordinate position
with relation to chapter 32: the former two chapters might be taken as a kind of lexicon
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for the latter. But this would be, I think, a misreading. Rather, what we have in chapters
30-32 is a pairing of two rather different ways of disambiguating the two “conversions”:
chapters 30-31 are a narrative way or working things out, and chapter 32 is a sermonic way
of doing the same. That is, while chapters 30-31 describe so many historical happenings,
chapter 32 prescribes an ahistorical model. One could perhaps say that while chapters 30-
31 are the case study, chapter 32 is the drawing of theoretical conclusions.
In part, it seems to me that this difference will have to guide our discussions of chapter
32: there, we ought to be able to begin to work up a kind of “model” of faith, meant to
disambiguate between two kinds of “conversion” experience, since that is, I think, what
Alma himself is doing.
As Alma 31:5, by far the most model-esque verse in the two chapters we undertook to
study this week, makes clear, what serves primarily to work out the disambiguation will
be “the word.”
Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

4 Responses to “Discussion Summary: Alma 30-31”
1. on June 13, 2008 at 3:04 am1 faulconj
Joe, does Alma 32 show how Alma’s conversion is structurally different than Korihor’s?
Or is the point of the parallel that there is something, a gift, that exceeds the structure of
conversion?
That is, I think, the central question, Jim. And I can only wish I knew the answer already!
Joe, I like how you’re framing the question here, and Jim’s question seems very
important to me. As I’ve been thinking about this issue the past week, I’m more inclined
to see the two experiences as broadly sharing the same form or structure: visitation by a
messenger, words spoken, message ultimately shared with others as original receiver
turns into messenger. Within that, however, we have Alma deferring to the word(s)—
they force him to turn about and face his own pending damnation—and, as a result,
acknowledging his own culpability and responsibility. In other words, he takes actions
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that result in a spiritual witness of the truth of the message he receives. Korihor, on the
other hand, simply accepts the message and begins to share it without any personal
verification/experimentation. Replication without experimentation = damnation? Or
another way, reception of the word ≠ reception of the gift? I definitely need to keep
thinking about this.
This is a very helpful way of approaching the issue, Jenny. As I’ve been doing some
(further) work on Alma 36 this week, I’ve begun to think that Alma only attempts to look
at the question of parallel or disparate structures with his words to Helaman. Which is to
say that I find your way of seeing him work through these issues in chapter 32 is very
convincing.
Alma 33-34
June 9, 2008 by faulconj
I will look more closely at Alma 33 than at 34 because Alma 33 is a continuation of the
sermon which begins in Alma 32. In Alma 34 Amulek repeats in a different way what
Alma has preached in chapters 32-33. I will look only at the fist 30 verses of Alma 34.
Alma 33
33:1 – The question which the people ask Alma is intriguing. How does believing in one
God have anything to do with whether they can obtain the fruit, plant the seed, exercise
faith? Does the first part of the question have something to do with the Zoramite
rejection of Christ, which might be couched as a rejection of more than one God? If so,
then they are asking, “Do we obtain this fruit by believing in the God of the Zoramites?”
When Alma asks “How can ye disbelieve on the Son of God?” (verse 14) he may be
responding to that way of understanding their question.
33:2 – In Alma 32:5, the poor of the Zoramites have come to him and said, “We have no
place to worship our God [having been rejected by the priests because of our poverty];
and behold, what shall we do?” Alma’s response in chapter 32 has not been an answer
to that question. Instead, he has told them that they need to try the word and promised
them that if they do, they “will repeat the rewards of your faith, and you diligence, and
patience, and long-suffering, waiting fo the tree to ring forth fruit unto you” (verse 43).
Now, when they ask him how to obtain the fruit of which he has spoken, he answers
their question about what to do about being cast out!
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The people are wrong because they assume that, having been rejected from the Zoramite
synagogues, they cannot worship at all. However, for those who had come from a
tradition of the Mosaic Law—though clearly the Zoramite religion was not Mosaic, it
nevertheless may have been influenced by it—this assumption may not be so
unreasonable. The Zoramites have pronounced them unclean (though, of course, for the
wrong reasons), and the unclean were not allowed to enter the Israelite temple. If ritual
worship is the essential core of worship (as it is in Israelite temple worship), then it
would be reasonable to assume that when the prayer on the Rameumptum becomes the
religious ritual, to be excluded from that prayer would be to be excluded from worship.
In other words, Alma teaches them that the scriptures do not teach that they cannot
worship, however their belief that they cannot is reasonable, given what we can
reasonably assume about their cultural background.
33:3 – Alma, like the Zoramites, equates prayer with worship! Of course, Alma’s prayer
and theirs are light years apart, but they share that particular assumption.
33:4-11 – Alma quotes the prophet Zenos. Zenos praises God for hearing his prayers—
showing mercy—in a variety of circumstances.
Zenos’s prayer:
4 Thou art/wast merciful:

Because Thou hast heard my prayer in the wilderness
Because when I prayed about my enemies thou didst turn them to me (presumably
making them allies)
5 When I cried to thee in my field
6 When I cried to thee in my house
7 When I cried to thee in my closet
8 Thou art merciful when thy children cry unto thee—if they do so to be heard by thee
and not by other people.
9 Thou hast been merciful and hast heard my cries:
In thy congregations.
10 When I was cast out by mine enemies
11 Thou didst hear me because of my sincerity.
Thou hast been merciful to me because of thy Son
So, I will cry unto thee whenever I am in affliction.
Reference to praying when persecuted by enemies begins and ends this prayer (verses 4
and 11), so it is relevant to the people’s situation. Prayer (which is the same as worship—
verse 3) must be sincere (verses 8, 11), so the Zoramite prayer does not count as worship.
What are we to make of the movement from exterior to interior—field, house, closet?
33:12-13 – Having just quoted scripture to the Zoramites, Alma asks them whether they
believe the scriptures. Then he draws their attention to the last part of verse 11, quoting
it: “Thou has turned away thy judgments because of thy Son.” He returns them to the
theme of his sermon in chapter 32, exercising faith in the Word. I take it that this part of
the sermon answers the question of whether “the word” in Alma 32:28 refers to Christ.
Yes, though the fact that he has also just asked them whether they believe the scriptures
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also shows that he was referring to the scriptures. The connection between the word and
the Word is explicit in his words.
33:14 – Alma’s claim is bold: If you have read the scriptures, how can you not believe on
the Son of God? What is it about scripture which allows Alma to make this claim
that reading scripture should be sufficient to bring one to belief?
33:15-17 – Zenock also testified explicitly of the Son of God. Zenock’s testimony provides
a case in which the Israelites did not understand God’s mercy, given to them because of
his Son. Does that mean that they did not understand his mercy? Or does it additionally
mean that they did not understand that God’s mercy came to him through the Son? If the
latter, does that mean that they read or heard that teaching and did not understand it, or
that they did not receive that teaching in the first place?
That Zenock refers to the teaching seems to require that the people of whom he writes
heard that God’s mercy came because of the Son of God: they received the teaching about
God’s Son providing them with mercy but did not understand it, would not understand it.
33:18-19 – Other prophets, including Moses taught of the Son of God. Moses did so at
least typologically, if not otherwise. Merely looking (verse 19) is much like allowing the
seed to be planted. It is a very small act, requiring little faith. Is reading scripture like merely
looking or allowing the seed to be planted? If so, how so?
33:20 – Few understood the figure that Moses raised for them. Their hearts were so hard
that they would not look. Not believing that it will heal them is equated with being hard-
hearted. A hard heart, like hard soil, is one in which the seed cannot be planted.
Presumably it took more than mere doubt about the serpent on Moses’ staff being able to
heal them to get them to refuse to look. Their refusal was not just a matter of doubting, it
was a matter of denying. So “did not believe” means here “refused even to allow the
smallest particle of belief.”
33:21 – Alma makes the connection between the Israelite experience and his sermon
almost explicit: If all it required for you to be healed was to look at Moses’ staff, wouldn’t
you do so? Notice that it does not require that they believe that looking can heal them. It
merely requires that they try the “experiment” (Alma 32: 27) of looking.
33:22 – Alma connects the figure of the serpent on Moses’ staff explicitly to its prefigure
in Christ coming to Israel, suffering and dying to atone for its sins, being resurrected, and
judging all human beings.
33:23 – “This word,” namely the teaching of Christ, is what is to be planted in their
hearts. He quotes himself when he says that this word “will become a true springing up
in you unto everlasting life.” compare Alma 32: 41.
Alma 34
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34:1-2 – The Zoramites cannot be ignorant of the teaching of Christ that Alma has
repeated to them.
34:3-6 – Amulek says “You wanted to know what to do about your problems, and Alma
said some things to prepare you for his answer. First he said to have faith and be
patient.” Though we often discuss Alma’s sermon as if it starts with verse 25 of chapter
32—or even verse 27—Amulek begins with verse 8. Amulek takes Alma’s preaching of
humility (verses 12-16) as an exhortation to patience. I assume that he understands the
preaching of faith to begin in verse 17, with Alma’s condemnation of sign-seeking
(perhaps with Korihor in mind).
34:7-13 – Amulek preaches Christ and atonement, which is what, presumably, the
preaching of patience and faith was to prepare the Zoramites for.
34:14 – Every point (!) of the Mosaic Law points to the atoning sacrifice of Christ.
34:15-16 – The intent of Christ’s sacrifice is to bring salvation to those who believe on
him. That is how mercy can satisfy justice. Justice is satisfied by being overpowered by
mercy, not overpowered as in dominated, but overpowered as in overcome with
emotion: Christ’s suffering, death, and resurrection “bringeth about the bowels of mercy,
which overpowereth justice.”
34:17-27 – Given Christ’s sacrifice for those who believe on him, the Zoramites should
humble themselves in prayer in all of their circumstances—prayer not only for
themselves, but “also for the welfare of those around you” (verse 27).
34:28-29 – Besides prayer, you must exercise charity for those in need. The Zoramites
asked Alma, “How do we plant the seed?” Amulek has answered “By prayer for yourself
and those around you, and by charity.”
34:30 – The many witnesses of what Alma and Amulek have preached, witnesses found
in the scriptures, should be sufficient to cause the Zoramites to “come forth and bring
fruit unto repentance.” Once again, the assumption seems to be that reading the
scriptures is enough at least to plant the seed. Reading the scriptures is comparable to
looking at Moses’ staff, a small thing that can have the eventual effect of saving one.

15 Responses to “Alma 33-34”
I’m rather captivated by 33:9 where Zenos says “thou hast been merciful unto me, and
heard my cries in the midst of thy congregations.” The word congregation only shows up
again in the BofM in 2 Ne 24:13 (Isa 14:13). I’m inclined to think of both verses in terms of
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the the heavenly council (interestingly, the D&C frequently uses the phrase
“congregations of the wicked”—see here).
The following verse (33:10) uses the phrase “when I have been cast out” which seems
very appropriate to the situation of the Zoramite poor. So the progression that Jim asks
about, from wilderness (33:4) to field (v. 5) to house (v. 6) to closet (v. 7) seems to climax
in verse 8, “thou art merciful when they cry unto thee, to be heard of thee and not of
men, and thou wilt hear them.” This climax—an image of Zenos praying alone in his
closet, but in unison with, or at least along with, the heavenly council of angels— forms a
poignant contrast with the Zoramites in ch. 31 who prayed with “a loud voice” (31:14)
where only one person prayed at a time (31:13), presumably so that their own individual
voice would be heard and admired….

One of the issues I’m still thinking about from chs. 30-31 is the reasons Korihor and the
Zoramites gave for not believing in Christ. Korihor says “no man can know of anything
which is to come” (30:13), and that belief in the future coming of Christ “is the effect of a
frenzied mind . . . because of the traditions of your fathers” (30:16) and, perhaps more
relevant to my thoughts above, “ye cannot know of things which ye do not see” (30:15). I
think Julie was right to point our attention to the way in which Alma begins his response
to Korihor in 30:35 by referring to the preaching that “causes such joy in their hearts”
because this is precisely the point that Alma draws out in Zenos’s words to God, “that in
thee is my joy” (33:11). I think all of this is important context for thinking about the
swelling seed “within your breasts” in 32:28 because of the contrast between what is felt
from within by believers, versus what can be observed from without.
To link this up with Marion, he moves in meditations 2-3 of The Erotic Phenomenon from a
question of “Does anyone out there love me?” to the question of “Can I love first?” (he
calls this “the advance” in ch. 16). I think this progression in Marion’s thought is similar
in that it requires something from or in me in order for progression or growth to occur, a
kind of “making place” for the other person—a willingness to listen or passively respond
that displaces my own ego. (I haven’t thought through this very much yet, but I wanted
to mention the link as a reminder to myself and invitation to others to think about this
more.)
Regarding the Zoramites, they explicitly state in their prayer to God, “though hast made
it known unto us that there shall be no Christ” (the following sentence in v. 17, “But thou
art the same yesterday, today, and forever” could be taken as a reason or justification for
that belief, but my point here is that they seem to refer explicitly to some method of
revelation…). It is this belief that would seem to suffocate any potential planting or
growth of a seed—there is no space given, no willingness to respond to the word as a
result. Alma’s petition later in ch. 31, then, is like the words he quotes from Zenos in ch.
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33 in that Zenos is crying to God in his afflictions, and as a result of this petition/cry, God
hears the prayer and joy/comfort is experienced.
To use Marion, again, to try and think about the structural similarities between Alma’s
response to Korihor and the Zoramites in chs. 30-33, Alma explicitly and implicitly seems
to advocate a kind of lover’s/believer’s advance that approaches in an effort to see and
hear and to be given/responded to (cf. “ask and ye shall receive,” but be sure to ask
first!). This can be done by: looking for God in the signs of the earth and planets (30:44);
calling upon God for comfort (31:31-32); giving place to plant and noticing the swelling
in our breasts of the word (32:27-30); crying unto God and feeling joy in return (33:4-11);
recognizing Christ in the type raised in the wilderness by Moses (33:19); and/or
believing in order to look to the serpent and be healed (33:20ff).
Robert says:
Regarding the Zoramites, they explicitly state in their prayer to God, “though hast made it known
unto us that there shall be no Christ” (the following sentence in v. 17, “But thou art the same
yesterday, today, and forever” could be taken as a reason or justification for that belief, but my
point here is that they seem to refer explicitly to some method of revelation…). It is this belief that
would seem to suffocate any potential planting or growth of a seed—there is no space given, no
willingness to respond to the word as a result.
I like the point that you’re making here and am inclined to agree.
A couple of comments about Alma 33 (with thanks to Jim for his post):
v.1, “. . . they sent forth unto him desiring to know whether they should believe in one
God, that they might obtain this fruit of which he had spoken, or how they should
plant the seed, or the word of which he had spoken, which he said must be planted in
their hearts; or in what manner they should begin to exercise their faith.”
I think that Jim’s question about this verse is crucial: what does believing in “one God”
have to do with faith? Is the implication of this belief positive or negative? Does it refer
(positively) back to Abinadi’s claim that God is Christ (“and God himself shall come
down among the children of men,” Mosiah 15.1) or (negatively) to Korihor’s denial of
Christ?
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Also, I’m very interested in the persistent use of “or” in these couple of chapters. We get
some really interesting equivalences set up by them. Here:
“whether they should believe in one God”
OR
“how they should plant the seed/word”
OR
“in what manner they should begin to exercise faith.”
Should we read all three of these as more or less synonymous? Or is it sometimes a

disjunction (as Jim suggests regarding the first one)?
v.2, “. . . if ye suppose ye cannot worship God, ye do greatly err, and ye ought to search
the scriptures; if ye suppose that they have taught you this, ye do not understand
them.”
Is Alma’s audience literate? Would Nephites in general be able to read? Would the
Zoramite poor, in particular, be able to read? Would they have had anything to read,
even if they were able?
I wonder about the extent to which the answers to these questions would inflect our
understanding of what the Zoramite poor would have understood by Alma’s (central!)
references to “the word.”
Wouldn’t I have a very different relation to “the word” if I couldn’t read and if texts were
rare? Wouldn’t my access to “the word” via a priestly caste require an immense amount
of faith – faith needed just to take “their word” that this is in fact what the text says?
Would my relation to “the word” be much more abstract, generic, and/or magical?
If Alma’s audience is illiterate, how does this very material class difference come into
play as a dynamic in Alma’s preaching? Does it show up as a class difference? This may
be an important question.
v.4, “. . . thou wast merciful unto me when I was in the wilderness; yea, thou wast
merciful when I prayed concerning those who were mine enemies, and thou didst turn
them to me.”
Is the image here (psalm-like) of a man hiding in the wilderness from his enemies, a la the
“cast out” Zoramite poor? Does the “turning of his enemies to him” mean a kind of
reconciliation?
vs. 9, “. . . my cries in the midst of thy congregations.”
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I don’t know that I can add further support to Robert’s reading of this verse as
implicating “the heavenly council,” but I like it.
vs. 19-20, “. . . And many did look and live. But few understood the meaning those
things, and this because of the hardness of their hearts.”
(Here, I think I’m reading v. 20 differently than Jim. Where I read the beginning of v. 20
with the end of v. 19, Jim follows the verse break. He may certainly be right in doing this,
but if not . . .)
Is there a sense here in which the power of the “type” operates to save people apart from
whether or not they “understand the meaning” of the type? This doesn’t appear optimal
(they didn’t understand because of the hardness of their hearts), but they did look and live.
Is this generally descriptive in the Church: we may look and live, but we still (in our
hardness) do not understand?
vs. 23, “And now, my brethren, I desire that ye shall plant this word in your hearts . . .”
How important is Alma’s own “desire” here? Is his own desire essential to provoking
and supporting the fledgling desires of his audience? Is his desire even more important
than the meaning of his words? Could we be “saved” by the desire of another (say, a
missionary’s desire for their convert to believe or a parent’s desire for their child to
repent) without having “understood” that desire? The case, here, mirroring my
comments on v. 19-20?
“Now, when they ask him how to obtain the fruit of which he has spoken, he answers
their question about what to do about being cast out!”
I love this observation. I am wondering about its implications; at a basic level, it suggests
a link between the two, but I am wondering if there is more to it than that.
“Would the Zoramite poor, in particular, be able to read?”
Comparisons to the world of the New Testament are speculative (to say the least), but if
you were to ask this question about the NT audience, I would say that no, they couldn’t
read (literacy rates are deduced to be something like 5-10% overall, disproportionate to
the wealthy), but that they would have been in the habit of gathering to have the text
read to them and they would have memorized (or at least have been _very_ familiar
with) large chunks of it and in that sense would have known it far better than we do.
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I mention this only because it suggests that “search[ing]” doesn’t mean “flipping pages
for that verse that you think was on the lower right hand corner of the left page
somewhere in Alma” but might mean something like “ponder more deeply texts that you
already have committed to memory.”
In any case, he then repeats the text that he has in mind, so if they weren’t familiar with it
before, they know it now!
Lots of excellent comments. I want to say something briefly about two in particular:
#4 - I think that Adam’s reading of Alma 33:19-20 is better than mine. I overlooked the
force of the “but” which begins the second sentence of verse 20. If that is contrastive, as it
seems to be, then the first sentence of the verse cannot be referring to those who would
not look. It must be referring to those who didn’t understand the type, but looked
anyway.
#5 - Julie’s remark about memorization is reasonable. I’ve known a couple of people, for
example, who have memorized the entire New Testament. Each was semi-literate and
memorization was their way of dealing with their inability to read well.
However, Julie, how strong is the evidence for wide-spread memorization of texts among
pre-NT people, or among NT people for that matter? Or, can you think of any evidence
from within the Book of Mormon that suggests that at least village leaders or family
heads were memorizing scriptural texts? Also, what do you do with what seem to me to
be suggestions that the Nephite people were not generally conversant with scripture. It
isn’t clear that Nephi is familiar with Isaiah until after they get the brass plates.
(However, that he seems to know “the manner of the Jews” — 2 Nephi 25:1-2–is evidence
that he was not only literate, but schooled in reading scripture.) And, at least as I have
been reading the sermons of other BofM prophets, they seem to be talking to the people
about what they don’t already know.
7. on June 10, 2008 at 11:22 pm7 juliemariesmith
Jim, I wish we had the data to answer the excellent questions that you pose!
I think Abinadi’s use of the ten commandments and Isaiah 53 could be used as evidence
of memorization (I’m assuming he didn’t have access to texts at that point). I’m not sure
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what to make of Jacob’s “Behold, my brethren, do ye not remember to have read the
words of the prophet Zenos.” Is the assumption that they all had copies at home? I don’t
know.
In the absence of data allowing us to offer any clear answers about Nephite
literacy/memorization, it’s (of course!) essential to go ahead and ask anyway what
literacy/illiteracy might mean for our understanding of “the word” in Alma 32. (In
philosophy, we never let little details like not have any data get in the way of our
definitively answering certain questions :)
As I posed the question before, might I not have a very different relation to “the word” if
I couldn’t read and if texts were rare? Might my relation to “the word” be much more
abstract, generic, and/or magical?
In the context of illiteracy, is the relation between faith and “the word” strongly inflected
by the need to “take the word” of someone else for what “the word” actually says?
Is the interpersonal dimension of promise/trust foregrounded by illiteracy?
Does the need to “take his word about the word” also highlight the point made in 33.19-
20 about how we can look on the type and live with haven’t understood (or read) it?
Here, the type functioning (without understanding) as a magical symbol/word?
(And maybe, does this come back to thinking through, a la Alma 31, the persistent claims
about knowing what the other person does/does not or can/cannot know?)
Jim, I think this reversal of questions and answers is really a key insight, though I’m not
entirely sure why it seems so important to me. I will be thinking more about this.
The Zenos passage might be read as telling a brief story: Zenos had been, for whatever
reason, excluded from the community, but his prayer had turned the people to his favor
again, and he proceeds through a sort of threefold triumphal return (from
field/courtyard through house/holy place to closet/holy of holies). When he dares,
however, to broach the increasingly private prayer to which he has been restored (by
praying in the congregation), his disfavor returns, and he finds himself in the wilderness
lamenting/celebrating the destruction of the people.
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This little story plays about many of the themes of public/private that Robert has been
highlighting.
Why does Alma set Zenos, whose rejection in the name of the Son resulted in the
destruction of the people, against Zenock, whose rejection in the name of the Son
resulted in his own death at the hands of the people? Is there something that ought to be
read in this pairing?
Can “looking” be disentangled here from the use to which Korihor puts it in ch. 30?
There, “looking” is associated with “hope” and, if it is (incorrectly) associated with
“seeing,” results in a frenzied mind. What more might be said about “looking” as used
here?
Jim, your focus on reading, though complicated by comments from Adam, Julie, and
yourself, is resonant with questions that can be raised about the final scene of Alma 30,
where there is a focus on writing. It would seem that when Korihor is forced to write, he
can see where he has gone astray, but can the same be said for the one who reads? That
is, as the complications introduced here into the question of reading attest, reading need
not be a visual experience, but writing cannot escape it. How do we riddle out the
relationship between reading, as Alma promotes it, and writing, the task to which
Korihor is set by God?
Unfortunately, I’ve been so involved in attempting to sort out my thoughts about last
week, I’ve got little to add to this discussion for now!
There’s so much here that is so interesting—sorry to be late joining in.
Concerning Jim’s first question regarding 33:1 and Adam’s observations regarding the
use of “or” in between the clauses, I’m inclined to read them as somewhat synonymous,
in part because doing creates an interesting effect: I read it as an indication of the level of
excitement and interest Alma’s words have created in the crowd. I think it can be read as
creating the effect of a group of people speaking simultaneously—what is interesting are
the various levels of comprehension demonstrated by the remarks. Some people want to
who/what to believe in, while others are more interested in the practicalities of the
planting process, while others wonder what they have to do to exercise faith. Seeing this
as a fragmented response highlights the theme of having an individual response to the
word(s) and an individual’s relationship to his or her own conversion and salvation.
Another way of looking at these questions might be to see them as facets of the same
general question: what do we do? How are we to proceed? Which emphasizes the theme
of action. Something in their response also reminds me somewhat of the general
responses to Christ’s miracles with the loaves and fishes: some people were just
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interested in getting more free food (how do we get this fruit?), while some people
recognized the miracle and what it pointed towards.
Regarding the use of “congregations,” I thought Robert’s insight was quite interesting
(something about the progression into sacred space through prayer perhaps?). Although
this may be a deliberate misreading given the information Robert provided, verses 5-11
could also be seen as a move first towards the private and then out through the public (in
congregations, in the midst of enemies before they cast him out). If the poor Zoramites
understood congregations as we tend to read it (as public gatherings), this verse could be
quite apt for their situation—they could see Alma telling them they can pray (privately)
even when out (in public).
Also I think it’s important to note that Alma quotes prophets available on the brass
plates, but no others (he doesn’t, for example, give them the words of Abinadi). Could he
be appealing to some type of common ground (wherein the Zoramites accept the
authority of the brass plates, but perhaps not the authority of the religion as continued
through Nephite prophets)? We have a previous historical example of a group with
access to the texts of the brass plates who were unwilling/unable to read them or
understand them in terms of an atoning messiah (priests of Noah), so it might be possible
that something similar has gone on with the Zoramites. If so, that might explain the
emphasis on the word/Word relationship or identity with Jesus Christ—could Alma be
trying to emphasize the scripture’s ability to testify of an atoning messiah? Along those
lines, it’s probably significant that both references from Zenos and Zenock explicitly
name the Son. I’m not sure on this, but wouldn’t the majority of the Hebrew scriptural
texts at that time talk about God in terms of Yaweh as opposed to the Son or Son of God?
Which would make these passages somewhat distinctive in their ability to emphasize the
reality of an atoning messiah (the Son of God)? (Which would also then reinforce Alma’s
interpretation of Moses and the serpent on the staff as a type of Christ in terms of
healing/atonement [as opposed to John's emphasis on the image of being "lifted up"—
the crucifixion]—I read that distinction somewhere lately, that’s not my own thinking.)
I think this possible/probable emphasis on a healing/atoning Christ comes into play
explicitly in verses 18-22. Alma goes into great detail explaining the symbolic behind
Moses’ actions, with the emphasis, as Jim notes several times, being on the simplicity of
the action required of us: we simply look, we simply read, and with that opening comes
healing/grace (whether or not we are sufficiently humble to recognize it as such is
another matter, but Alma appears to be emphasizing the importance of that opening, that
possibility). In thinking back through Alma’s own conversion experience, I see reasons
for him to create such a focus.
In Alma 36, he tells how he’s being wracked by the pains of hell when suddenly he
“remembered also to have heard my father prophesy … concerning the coming of one
Jesus Christ, a Son of God, to atone for the sins of the world” (v. 17). Notice how Alma
remembers this—it’s a thought, or memory, of words he heard at some point but which
he never (until now) really considered or paid attention to. But the words were there
because he had been exposed to them. He then describes how his “mind caught hold
upon this thought [and he cried]: O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am
in the gall of bitterness and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death” (v. 18).
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Upon merely thinking this thought in his heart—merely turning towards Christ in His
role as the mediator (Alma doesn’t cry to the Father, he cries to the Son) and asking for
mercy, he receives relief (and eventually further instruction).
This is getting long, so I should wrap it up. I did want to note that the movements Robert
mentions in comment 2 from “Does anyone out there love me?” to “Can I love first?” in
The Erotic Phenomenon seems to link up with Amulek’s discourse in chapter 34: he first
focuses on Christ and his role as the infinite and eternal sacrifice (i.e., yes, someone
[Christ] loves you) and then 27-29 qualifies his words with an exhortation to charity (i.e.,
I must love first). I’m not sure what to make of that at the moment, but there it is.
I’m also in agreement with Adam’s reading of 19-20—he asks if this is generally
descriptive of the Church and I’d say yes, we look and and live but generally do not
understand (both Christ and each other). My question, then, is what does this
interpretation imply about the role of understanding? How do we seek understanding?
How are understanding and humility related? Is understanding something we can
actually seek, or is it something that distills after we do all we can to prepare our ground
(Alma and Amulek both seem to value this quality of preparedness—they tell them how
to prepare over and over, but don’t tell them necessarily how to seek understanding. Or I
might just be misreading here.)
Finally, regarding the discussion of reading, my sense (based off of a few history of
reading lectures attended years ago) aligns with what Julie says in comment 5. In
cultures where actual texts and skills in reading them are not common, the ability to
memorize and the oral performance of the text were often developed to a degree that
would seem impossible for us today. (How’s that for a vague statement….) In any case, I
like the idea of relating searching to memory and pondering. Is there something about
Korihor’s ability to actually read (and write) that leaves him more vulnerable to
deception? Julie asked at one point why Korihor couldn’t work anymore once he was
mute—as far as wild speculation goes, could he have earned money at some point by
reading aloud for others? And, as Joe notes, is there some necessary link between
conversion and writing? As in, once converted (or at least once convinced of the reality of
God?), one must/can/should write? I’m going to have to think more on this one to come
up with anything real.
A couple of comments about “faith” in the first half of Alma 34:
v.2, “. . . Christ, who is taught by us to be the Son of God.”
Is this their unique teaching? That God, as Christ, will be/appear as the “Son” rather
than the “Father”? That is to say, that the Messiah will be a “suffering servant” (i.e., Son)
rather than a “triumphal ruler” (i.e., “Father”)?
v.3, “. . . he hath exhorted you unto faith and to patience”
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I like, here, the conjunction of faith and patience: faith, in its humility without
compulsion, will be able to persist without impatience in sacrifice.
Perhaps the essence of faith is patience. Patience being the ability to persist on a course
without being overrun in the meanwhile by the impatience of our desires for satisfaction
or demands for acknowledgement.
Patience describing both persistance (the “eternal”) and a changed relation to our own
desires.
v.4, “. . . have so much faith as even to plant the word in your hearts, that ye may try
the experiment of its goodness.”
Just a note that the word “experiment” is used again here by Amulek. Here, faith is the
subjective disposition needed in order for one to try the experiment “of the
word’s goodness.” Rather than being the “end” of the experiment, faith is what’s needed
in order for the experiment to get underway and produce goodness?
v.16, “he that exercises no faith unto repentance is exposed to the whole law of the
demands of justice; therefore only unto him that has faith unto repentance is brought
about the great and eternal plan of redemption.”
In this chapter, Amulek consistently characterizes faith as “faith unto repentance.”

In this verse, lacking faith unto repentance = Being exposed to the whole law of the
demands of justice.
I wonder if the phrase “demands of justice” might be important here. Faith being what
shelters us not from justice, but from a relation to justice that experiences justice as a
demand, or even a demand for satisfaction.
Perhaps faith as patience changes the quality of our experience of justice, shifting justice
from the register of “retributive demand” to “distributive mercy.” (Justice, in light of
faith unto repentance, being the enactment of mercy rather than the obstacle to it?)
Jenny says:
“I’m also in agreement with Adam’s reading of 19-20—he asks if this is generally descriptive of
the Church and I’d say yes, we look and and live but generally do not understand (both Christ and
each other). My question, then, is what does this interpretation imply about the role of
understanding? How do we seek understanding? How are understanding and humility related? Is
understanding something we can actually seek, or is it something that distills after we do all we
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can to prepare our ground (Alma and Amulek both seem to value this quality of preparedness—
they tell them how to prepare over and over, but don’t tell them necessarily how to seek
understanding. Or I might just be misreading here.)”
I like this characterization of “understanding” as something that can’t be directly sought

or demanded (especially when the question of understanding has to do with
understanding someone else, as in your parenthetical reference to understanding Christ or
“each other”). Perhaps failing to understand has to do with the hardness of our hearts in
that hard hearts demand answers now and on their own terms, thus denying the
essential patience and humility of faith?
Adam, thanks for your rereading of “the whole law of the demands of justice.” Very
helpful.
Great stuff, all. I will try to bring all of this together in some kind of synopsis before
Sunday.
Final thoughts about “faith” in the last half of Alma 34:
v.17, “Therefore may God grant unto you, my brethren, that ye may begin to exercise
your faith unto repentance, that ye begin to call upon his holy name, that he would
have mercy on you . . .”
The construction “faith unto repentance” is here used again, though the meaning of this
phrase is then glossed in some detail.
Having faith unto repentance = calling upon God’s holy name for mercy. Faith manifests
in this particular act.
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The rest of vs. 18-27 can then be taken as an elaboration of how/where such faith is to be
expressed via calling (namely: everywhere!). Here, the business of “calling” on God
clearly amounts to “crying unto him” for “your welfare, also for the welfare of those
around you” (see v.27).
So:
1. Faith that’s not unto repentance isn’t faith.
2. Faith unto repentance that doesn’t actively call on God for mercy isn’t faith unto
repentance.
3. A “calling” on God for mercy that is not a “crying” unto him is no kind of calling.
4. And crying unto him is not crying unless it is internally and externally pervasive.
v.28, “if you do not any of these things, behold, your prayer is vain, and availeth you
nothing, and ye are as hypocrites who do deny the faith.”
This is, I think, the chapter’s final use of the word “faith.” Here, talk shifts from an
indefinite “faith unto repentance” to a definite “the faith.”
Interesting that “the faith” is directly connected to taking in the needy and the naked,
visiting the sick and afflicted, and imparting of your substance to those in need. The
upshot being that we can pray all we want and have all the “spiritual experiences” we’d
like, but they will all be empty of faith unto repentance (they’ll all lack “the faith”) unless
they involve some real interaction with the frailties of some concrete, particular others.
Alma 33-34 Summary

June 15, 2008 by faulconj
Here are some of the high points of our discussion (and a side-argument from me):
How we understand the predicament of the Zoramite poor may depend partly on
whether we believe them to have been illiterate or semi-literate. If they were not readers,
then Alma’s reference to “the word” means something different than if they are.
However, even if they are illiterate, if other non-literate societies serve as a parallel, then
at least some among them are likely to have committed large sections of scriptural text to
memory. Adam suggested that illiteracy would foreground the personal relation
required in planting the seed: one must trust the person who says “this is the word.”
Jenny points out that Alma quotes only from prophets available on the brass plates.
Whether or not the Zoramites were literate, this could be explained by a desire to refer to
what he and they have in common.
One of the first issues is whether I read Alma 33:1 correctly. The verse says:
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Now after Alma has spoken these words, they sent forth unto him desiring to know
whether they should believe in one God, that they might obtain this fruit of which he had
spoken, or how they should plant the seed, or the word of which he had spoken, which
he said must be planted in their hearts; or in what manner they should begin to exercise
their faith.
Are these the Zoramite questions:
• Should we believe in one God in order to obtain the fruit?

• How should we plant the seed, in other words, the word, of which Alma
spoke?
• How should we begin to exercise faith?
Or, are these their questions:
• Should we believe in one God so that:

• We can obtain the fruit?
• We can plant the seed, in other words, the word, of which Alma spoke?
• We can begin to exercise faith?
Adam and Jenny agree on the first; I suggested the second in my commentary, though I
am now not sure. Textually their reading makes the most sense, but I think that
conceptually the second may make more sense.
Julie and Joe agree that the reversal of Alma’s questions—answering the question about
how to get faith when asked about being cast out, and answering the question about
being cast out when asked about faith—is important, but none of us knows what to do
with the point.
The contrast between Zenos’s prayer in his closet and the Zoramites’ prayer on their
Rameumpton is highlighted by the fact that Zenos’s prayer, though in his closet, is
accompanied by the prayers of the council of angels. Joe points out that we can
understand the movement of Zenos’s prayer (from field, to house, to closet) as parallel to
a movement toward the temple (courtyard–holy place–holy of holies).
Joe also asks about the parallel between Zenos and Zenock: Zenos is rejected in the name
of the Son, and the people are destroyed; Zenock is rejected in the name of the Son, and
he is destroyed.
Central to the Zoramite prayer is the denial of revelation. So Alma’s discussion of the
sources of revelation—the scriptures and the prophets—and his reminder that revelation
is ultimately always about Jesus Christ is a direct response to the problem the Zoramites
have: they cannot allow the seed to be planted because they have made themselves
hostile to the very possibility. As Robert says, “It is this belief [that revelation is
impossible] that would seem to suffocate any potential planting or growth of a seed—
there is no space given, no willingness to respond to the word as a result.”
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The parallel between Moses rod with a serpent on it and the word of God is interesting
because the former clarifies what it means to allow the seed to be planted: the people of
Israel did not have to believe in order to be saved. They only needed to look. This suggests
that one need not believe the word or understand it, one need only act on it. Indeed,
Adam asks whether this may describe much of the church: we look but do not
understand what we see. Adam also thinks that this also suggests a “magical”
understanding of the word. I think that is probably right, but I don’t agree that “magical”
is a synonym for “abstract” or “generic.”
As I understand a magical world-view, it is one in which there can be power in words
themselves or in natural objects, power to order human reality beyond that power that
someone in a naturalistic world would ascribe to words and objects. On that view, I take
it that priesthood blessings are in some sense “magical.” (I wouldn’t use that word in
Sacrament meeting or in Sunday School because it would be too likely to be
misunderstood, but I think it is the right word in an academic setting.)
Jenny makes a very important point when she asks, rhetorically, whether understanding
is something we seek or something that “distills after we do all we can to prepare our
ground.” Adam concurs and, looking closely at Alma 34 and points out that Amulek’s
interpretation of Alma’s sermon as an exhortation to patience and faith gives us a point
from which to understand Alma’s sermon: “Perhaps the essence of faith is patience.”
With Jenny’s point, that means that understanding requires the patience and humility of
faith, and to be hard of heart is to refuse to be patient and humble.
Adam also points out that Amulek understands the faith needed not to be faith in this or
that, but “faith unto repentance.” Then he notes that the alternative to that faith is “being
exposed to the whole law of the demands of justice.” Adam suggests that perhaps faith
doesn’t shelter us from justice, but from a relation to justice which experiences justice as a
demand for satisfaction. Perhaps if we exercise patience and humility, we begin to
understand justice as “the enactment of mercy rather than the obstacle to it.”
Adam sees this to follow from Amulek’s discussion of faith unto repentance:
1. Faith that’s not unto repentance isn’t faith.

2. Faith unto repentance that doesn’t actively call on God for mercy isn’t faith
unto repentance.
3. A “calling” on God for mercy that is not a “crying” unto him is no kind of
calling.
4. And crying unto him is not crying unless it is internally and externally
pervasive.
5.
Jenny reminds us that Alma’s picture of Christ in chapter 33 is of a healing Christ, the
Christ of his conversion experience.

2 Responses to “Alma 33-34 Summary”
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Jim,
Thanks for the summary.
Also, I believe I’m on board with your suggestions about how we might understand “the
word” as “magical.”
This was very helpful Jim, thank you. It clarified several points that could have been
buried in the discussion for me. Regarding the Zoramite question, I do think that
textually the first reading you diagram is more “there,” but in comparing the two lists
side by side, the second does make more conceptual sense—perhaps it is more “there”
when looking at the text thematically as opposed to narratively?
Alma 32:1-6
June 15, 2008 by juliemariesmith 
In this post, I’ll identify two major themes in this section of Alma.
First Theme: Place
Robert C. has mentioned in the comments the importance of the idea of “place;” I’d like
to develop that theme. Let’s back up to chapter 31, where Alma’s mission to the
Zoramites is prefaced with this bit of geography:
Now the Zoramites had gathered themselves together in a land which they called
Antionum, which was east of the land of Zarahemla, which lay nearly bordering upon
the seashore, which was south of the land of Jershon, which also bordered upon the
wilderness south, which wilderness was full of the Lamanites. (Alma 31:3)
Why even mention it? It does explain the delicacy of the political situation (see 31:4), but
it might also have another meaning. We don’t often look for deeper meaning in
geographical details, but such a thing is not unprecedented in the scriptures; when Jesus
“must [need] to go through Samaria” in John 4:4, we are reading about a theological
necessity, not a geographical one.
So what else might this Zoramites geography be telling us? Depending on how you parse
that sentence, you can end up with different maps. But I think the most logical way to do
it is to see Antionum in the middle bordered by Jershon (to the north), the seashore (to
the east), the wilderness full of Lamanites (to the south), and Zarahemla (to the
west). The physical location of Antionum reflects their spiritual location: halfway
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between wickedness on one side and faithfulness on the other, or, as we read in Alma
31:8, “the Zoramites were dissenters from the Nephites.” They weren’t completely
apostate (they were, after all, still praying), but they are deeply entrenched in heresy.
Our geography lesson in verse 3 is surrounded by references to negative emotions
(Alma’s sorrow in verse 2 and Nephite fear in verse 4) which also suggests a problematic
situation and further ties together the geographic and the spiritual.
So this brings us to Alma 32. The first verse is very concerned with place: we are told that
preaching meant going “into their synagogues, and into their houses; yea, and even they
did preach the word in their streets.” Now, this is not strictly necessary information
(especially since the main event of this chapter occurs on a hill, but more on that later) so
we might be suspicious that there is a theological reality in these geographical
details. I’m curious to hear what y’all think it might be, because I’m not entirely sure
myself. One thing that might be going on here is that the synagogue is being
rejected. This is not entirely surprising since our introduction to the Zoramite synagogue
in the previous chapter was so horrifying, but it is interesting that they would even try to
preach in the synagogue although as far as we can tell, it appears that these efforts were
not successful. The mention of houses is interesting—in the New Testament world we are
introduced to the concept of “house churches,” where a young-ish church meets in the
home of a member with room enough to host them (see, e.g., 1 Cor 1:11, 16:19; Col 4:15; 2
Tim 1:16). I wish there was more said about preaching in houses, but there isn’t. Does all
of this preaching in verse 1 bear fruit? Hard to say: v2 makes clear that they have success
among those cast out of the synagogue, so the preaching within the synagogue
apparently was a bust. But we have nothing concrete either way about the house and
street preaching.
Verse 4 begins with the note that Alma was “teaching and speaking unto the people
upon the hill Onidah.” What happened to the houses and streets? We aren’t told. The
only other scriptural reference to Onidah is Alma 47:5 (and I’m not entirely sure that it is
the same, since that reference is to the _place_ of Onidah, not the _hill_), so we assume
that the reader has no familiarity with it at this point. Why mention it? Perhaps the desire
is to situate Alma within the biblical tradition of great teachers symbolically closer to
God through their physically high location (think Moses on the mount). There is an
interesting contrast to the Rameumptom at this point: The Zoramites worship is also
placed: “a place built up in the center of their synagogue, a place for standing” (Alma
31:13). Both Alma’s hill and the Rameumptom have the superficial similarity of being
“high places” but Alma’s is natural (by which I mean God-created) and out of doors
while the Zoramites’ is man-made and contained within a synagogue (also man-
made). The implication is that the Zoramites are trying to force closeness to God, or to
achieve it on their own terms, through their own creation. Another contrast is that the
Zoramites use the Rameumptom for their self-focused worship, while Alma uses his hill
for his other-focused preaching.
One final comment about “place” in this section: verse 6 (this is right after the “foremost”
of the poor has spoken to Alma) reads “and now when Alma heard this, he turned him
about, his face immediately towards him . . .” There is a strand of biblical scholarship that
understands these “stage directions” as having some significance. If we try that approach
here, we face several interesting questions. First, in the phrase “he turned him about,”
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who is the ‘he’ and who is the ‘him’? That is, does Alma turn the man to face him (and, if
so, why wasn’t he facing Alma when he was speaking to Alma)? Or, does the man turn
Alma (and, if so, why wasn’t Alma facing him when Alma was talking to him)? Then,
note that his (whose?) face is “immediately towards him” (who?)—why mention
this? What does it imply? Could this suggest that his questions allow him to literally see
eye-to-eye with Alma? What else might it mean?
There’s more to this theme of place later in Alma 32; most notably, Alma beseeches them
to “give place” (32:27) to his words and then explains to them about the barren ground
(32:39), clearly a bad place. And, as Jim mentioned in a comment, place is also important
in Zenos’ prayer in ch 33 (see vss.5-7).
The issue of place takes on primary importance in that it is the key question that the
“foremost” of the poor has for Alma: he notes that they have “no place” (32:5) in which to
worship. Clearly, place is a central concern in this pericope.The irony is that being kicked
out of the holy place has put them in a place (literally, figuratively) to be prepared (see
Alma 32:6) to hear the word. The audience is being called to reexamine their assumptions
about the value of holy places.
Second Theme: Sartorial Sins
Again let me back up to chapter 31: the Zoramite prayer makes no mention of
clothing. But Alma devotes a chunk of his prayer to describing their clothing:“their costly
apparel, and their ringlets, and their bracelets, and their ornaments of gold, and all their
precious things which they are ornamented with” (Alma 31:28).
Things get more interesting in chapter 32, where we are told that the poor were cast out
of the synagogue “-because- of the coarseness of their apparel” (32:2). Clearly, clothing is
a big issue, but why? And why didn’t the Zoramites mention it in their prayer—is it
because they are not aware that that is how they are judging “chosenness”? Is there some
link here to the ceremonial clothing of the high priest? (This is a stretch, but I note that
32:5 notes that the poor were despised “more especially by our priests.”) Why is clothing
so important to the Zoramites?
One way of looking for an answer to those questions is to follow the logic of 32:2-
3. Unfortunately, I found this somewhat hard to do! Here is one way of understanding
the structure of the text:
For behold,
they were cast out of the synagogues

—–because of the coarseness of their apparel
therefore they were not permitted to enter into their syn. to worship God
—–being esteemed as filthiness
therefore they were poor
—–they were esteemed by their brethren as dross
therefore they were poor as to things of the world and also they were poor in heart
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I am not entirely satisfied with this arrangement of the text, but I think the string of
“therefore”s and explanatory lines is interesting. I suspect that there is more going on
here that I haven’t been able to put my finger on yet. What is clear is that the
introductory “for behold” calls the audience’s attention to the importance of the
subsequent words. And the logic is intriguing, although hard to follow (for me). It almost
seems to say that they were poor because of how they were esteemed and not because of
any objective measure of (lack of) wealth. In fact, it seems to say this twice in the space of
one verse: they were poor because they were esteemed as filthiness and they were poor
because they were esteemed as dross. It is a little out of my pay grade but I wonder if
something could be said here about the social construction of reality and perceptions of
wealth and poverty. Perhaps this would tie in to why/how Alma mentions the
Zoramite’s clothing and wealth but they do not. I’m also intrigued by the relationship
between being “poor as to things of the world” and being “poor in heart.”
The precise phrase “poor in heart” does not appear anywhere in the scriptures outside of
this chapter, with the exception of 3 Nephi 28:13, which is notable because it has so many
thematic parallels to Alma 32: “They rob the poor because of their fine sanctuaries; they
rob the poor because of their fine clothing; and they persecute the meek and
the poor in heart, because in their pride they are puffed up.” (3 Nephi 28:13). I’m not
entirely clear on whether it is good to be poor in heart or not. I find it interesting that in
verse 4, the narrator/editor picks up the phrase “poor in heart” as the sole descriptor of
these people and notes that they were poor in heart “because of their poverty as to the
things of the world” (32:4), which suggests a causality that wasn’t present in verse 3. But
what does it mean? And what does “lowly in heart” in verse 8 have to do with “poor in
heart”?
There are many passages in the Book of Mormon that link pride and expensive clothing;
why was this a focal point? And, of course, the issues of place and clothing seem to be
linked since it is because of their clothing that they were removed from their place in the
synagogue. What does this teach us?
And, finally, two random thoughts:
32:4: Is the “we” significant? Who is the “we”?
Is it significant that chapter 32 is sandwiched in between Alma’s prayer in 31 and Zenos’

prayer in 33?

14 Responses to “Alma 32:1-6”
Julie asks:
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“One final comment about “place” in this section: verse 6 (this is right after the “foremost” of the
poor has spoken to Alma) reads “and now when Alma heard this, he turned him about, his face
immediately towards him . . .” There is a strand of biblical scholarship that understands these
“stage directions” as having some significance. If we try that approach here, we face several
interesting questions. First, in the phrase “he turned him about,” who is the ‘he’ and who is the
‘him’? That is, does Alma turn the man to face him (and, if so, why wasn’t he facing Alma when
he was speaking to Alma)? Or, does the man turn Alma (and, if so, why wasn’t Alma facing him
when Alma was talking to him)?”
Just a quick thought in response to one question: there may be a third option as well.
Perhaps “he turned him about” is an awkward way of saying that Alma
turned himself about?
Great thoughts, Julie! A number of responses, as well as a few other directions I’ve gone
in my own reading of these verses over the past few days:
Re: the geography. Some BoM scholars have pointed out that the Zoramites might be a
military group. Their being placed between Jershon (the place of the Anti-Nephi-Lehis)
and the Lamanites in the wilderness would suggest, in light of the deal made between
the Anti-Nephi-Lehis and the Nephites, that the Zoramites were at least connected
in some way with the army. Moreover, we have a story about a military “leader” named
Zoram in Alma 16, and the Zoramites are said to be “led” by Zoram in 30:59. Could the
geography thus also be alerting us to the military orientation of the Zoramite people
(which might, in turn, be connected with the heavy emphasis there on rank or class)?
Regardless of whatever merit there may be to my suggestion, though, I think your points
are excellent.
Re: the synagogues/houses/streets business. I see verse 1 having a basic chiastic

structure:
began to preach the word of God unto the people

—entering into their synagogues
—and into their houses
yea, and even they did preach the word in their streets
The parallel between “preach the word” and “preach the word” seems obvious, and the
parallels of both “entering into”/”and into” and “their synagogues”/”their houses”
seems equally obvious. The surprise comes in that this way of structuring the verse
would set “the people” in parallel with “their streets,” but perhaps there is some sense in
this as well: inasmuch as “their streets” effective deconstructs the constructed
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synagogues and houses, it returns, in a sense, to the people (instead of their cultural
structurations).
The series (people/synagogues/houses/streets) could also be read as progressive until a

breaking point: from the broad collective (”people”) through the exclusive but still
collective (”synagogues”) to the particular or personal (”houses), but then only to have
this progression toward the personal taken apart by the shift to the chaotic motion of the
streets.
Either way, I see the move from synagogues/houses to the streets as disrupting or—the
term is so appropriate here—deconstructing. This anticipates the subsequent discourse
on displacement (ch. 33): the preaching itself enters into the places of the Zoramites
precisely to transgress those boundaries.
Re: place in general here. Verse 5 has a clear Marxist edge: not only does the Zoramite
spokesman mention “labor[ing] abundantly” (which could be taken—by a radical
intertextualist—as a reference to Marx’s concept of labor as productive of surplus, etc.),
but he at least implicitly recognizes that their dis-place-ment is connected to their having
constructed place in the first place. The key line: “they have cast us out of our
synagogues which we have labored abundantly to build with our own hands . . . that we
have no place to worship our God” (note that the italicized “that” is not in the 1981
edition, but Skousen calls for its restoration in his Analysis).
I think this is nicely Hegelian: the slave class is given definitively human desire when the
master class sets them to work constructing an object they will be unable to
use/consume. This perhaps helps to clarify why Alma sees these complaining workers as
“in a preparation to hear the word,” since they, he can assume, “can . . . desire to believe”
(v. 27).
If this Hegelian reading of verse 5 is not too wide of the mark, it would follow that the
Zoramite rich, even as they “have a place to worship,” really have no place whatsoever,
since place as place is always connected to desire (as Marion discusses in his section on
space/place in The Erotic Phenomenon). This point could be translated: it is structurally
impossible for the Zoramite rich to worship God, regardless of whether they are in the
synagogue, since their position as master makes impossible for them the desire needed to
try the experiment, etc.
These thoughts, I think, connect back up with the way one parses the first verse of the
chapter, especially given the description of the preaching of verse 1 as “much labor” in
verse 2 (which would connect up with the labor of the Zoramite poor in verse 5). While
the Zoramite poor have been laboring to construct, Alma’s missionary dream team has
been laboring to—as I argued above—deconstruct. This pairing of terms (”labor” and
“labored”) is suggestive of the approach the entire remainder of the discourse will take:
while the Zoramite workers approach Alma almost as if they were asking for help in
effecting a (violent?) revolution (notice the opening and closing emphasis on action with
the doubling of the word “do” in the brief speech of the spokesman), Alma will be trying
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to help the Zoramites realize that the dialectic of inside and outside (Bachelard) is a play
of mastery that must be distracted by letting one’s desire open onto real love.
Re: turn him about. I think Adam is moving in the right direction here (the phrase
appears seven times in scripture, and it is generally clear that it means what Adam
suggests). But I think the way you have phrased the issue is very helpful, Julie: these are
stage directions, so to speak, and what are to take by them and the word “immediately”?
I don’t at all know for now!
Re: clothing in general. I really like what you’ve done here (it is 2 Nephi 28, by the way,
not 3 Nephi 28). I’m especially appreciative of your labeling the Zoramite “unconscious,”
so to speak: the Zoramite worshipers don’t seem to recognize what it is that they are
using to ground their exclusionary policy.
And I like the way you’ve suggested that the “therefores” of verse 3 seem to suggest that
poverty is a consequence of “esteem” rather than “objective” measurements (like income,
etc.). I think this perhaps strengthens my Hegelian reading above: poverty is a question
of regard, of the gaze or of how one gazes/is gazed upon. (This would play nicely into the
themes of consciousness/unconscious as well: the rich remain unconscious, as Hegel
says, while the poor, knowing the low esteem in which they are held, have the
opportunity to become self-conscious, etc.)
A few additional thoughts (I’ll keep them quite brief: this is long enough already!):
Verse 5 has the Zoramite speaker shifting from the language of advocate (”these my
brethren,” etc.) to the language of spokeman (”they have cast us out,” etc.) halfway
through his speech. What can be read into that? Why does the shift happen with the shift
from “by all men” to “more especially by our priests”?
Skousen suggests replacing “poor” with “poorer” in verse 2. What does this suggest?
Does it confirm the displacement of objective measures readable in verse 3? Does it set up
a comparative structure that confirms the Hegelian possibilities of the text?
What might be read into the shift from “cast out” in verse 2 to “not permitted to enter” in
verse 3? Is this describing first an event and subsequently a policy?
I struggled with whether verses 1-2 are describing an event prior to the speeches
described in Alma 32-34 or whether they are describing the event of the speeches
themselves (summarized under the phrase “began to have success among the poorer
class of the people,” etc. Given the fact that Alma and Amulek seem to have left
immediately after giving these speeches (cf. ch. 35), I’m going to assume the former:
success was being had among the poor before the events described here. If that is the
case, then the approach of the poor in verses 4-5 might be read as being grounded in a
kind of earned trust, etc. How might that change the way the situation is read?
Given Julie’s talk of “stage directions,” how might this entire scene be staged? If Orson
Scott Card were to write a volume of his Homecoming series telling this story, how would
he read into the details of this scene? Is Alma talking to the rich on the hill, and the poor
decide to make a kind of intervention, such that Alma is then caught between the rich
and the poor when he gives this discourse? Or might this approach have been part of a
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plan on the part of a militant group of the poor, something they were hoping would turn
into a riot, etc.? Does the mention of the hill suggest a ritual setting, even a celebratory
setting, in which the militant revolutionaries attempt to make a coup? Etc., etc., etc.
Julie, marvelous stuff! Thank you. I especially like your point that the Zoramites may not
have mentioned clothing because they were unaware that they defined chosenness in
terms of clothing. With you, I think that the string of “therefore”s is important to
understanding what is going on.
It makes a good deal of sense to say that they were poor because they were esteemed as
dross. I’m not even an amateur sociologist or anthropologist, but it seems to me that to be
esteemed as useless is necessarily also to be unable to accomplish and have the same
things that those who are not esteemed as dross have. This reversal of our expectations—
poor because esteemed as nothing rather than esteemed as nothing because poor—is
very interesting. I wonder whether the usual way of thinking about these things, namely
that the poor as esteemed as nothing because they are poor rather than the reverse, is a
self-deception that we employ so as to assuage our culpability for the poor.
As for “he turned him about,” I read it as Adam does, as “an awkward way of saying
that Alma turned himself about.
I’ve really appreciated the discussion of “place” so far, both Julie’s comments about the
mirroring of physical and spiritual “locations” and Joe’s hypothesis about the potentially
military character of the city as a kind of outpost.
Further, Joe’s chiastic equation of “the people” and “the streets” in verse 1 strikes me as
fruitful.
I also like the suggestion that we understand the connection between being “esteemed as
nothing” and being “poor” as the latter - in a crucial sense - being a product of the
former.
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Julie, this is great—thank you!
I think it’s interesting that geopolitical concerns appear to motivate Alma’s mission to the
Zoramites to begin with (see 31:4-7, noting that their focus here is explicitly “to preach
the word”). In other words, Alma’s concern for place (he sorrows at the Zoramites’
physical separation [31:2] and the potential physical danger they pose to the Nephites
[Jershon] should they correspond with the Lamanites [31:4; incidentally, there's a nice
word play in English going on here—"correspond" as communication/writing/etc. and
also as analogous/equivalent—i.e., the underlying implication is that the Zoramites will
for all intents and purposes equal Lamanites]) is what leads him to action. Would the
Zoramites have been aware of Alma’s underlying intentions (to lead them to be just
[31:5] and reestablish their “place” in Nephite society)? If so, it’s a reasonable hypothesis
that the upper-class Zoramites, those who presumably dealt with issues such as politics,
war, and economics, would dismiss Alma out of hand as they would most likely blind
themselves to his concern for their souls and instead interpret his words and actions as
being purely politically motivated. (I’m not saying they weren’t partially politically
motivated, but 31:1-2 provides the context of sorrow and personal concern as well).
With all that, it seems like the perception of place is in some ways as important as actual
physical place. Alma perceives spiritual loss in the Z.s’ physical displacement; he is
motivated to action (he acts on his faith in the word, that the preaching of it will
powerfully effect the Z.s). The Z.s, in turn, possibly perceive political motivations behind
Alma’s actions and fail to give him place (the progression from synagogues to houses to
streets in 31:1 could, I think, also be read as Alma’s repeated physical displacement from
the various locations in the Z. community). And I think the work done above on verses 2-
3 points toward the possibility that the poor Z.’s social and physical displacement results
in part from explicitly how they are perceived (poverty consequent of being perceived as
useless [without place in society]).
How does this all relate to what’s going on in ch. 32? Perhaps part of what Alma is trying
to do in this sermon is provide the Z.s with a way in which they can reconceptualize (or
re-construct) themselves. Alma takes care to construct a comparison in which the place
the Z.s occupy (those who experiment upon the word) is specifically active and fruitful.
Those who experiment will find themselves productive—in other words, the implication
is that perceiving themselves (in?) faith can lead to a re-placement of the self. The
important distinction, however, is that this re-placement is not a reinscription within the
(economically/militarily/classed) Z. society, but rather a rooting in the vineyard of
God—a place where no one can be perceived as useless and where they “shall reap the
rewards of [their] faith” (32:43).
I wanted to address some of the other points discussed, but this comment is already
pretty long and I need to cook dinner … more later.
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The following is part of a comment from Gerald Smith, who tried to post it (without
knowing, I take it, that comments are limited to participants in the seminar only… my
apologies Gary!). I think there are some interesting speculations here:
I personally believe the Zoramites were descended from Zoram, and were basically on the edge of
Nephite society. They did not get power in politics, as there had always been a Nephite as king.
Then, with Mulekites as the bigger population, Zoramites still would be limited to the judges they
could elect. Perhaps they earned their way by becoming soldiers on the border, but I think they
sought their own community, where they could be anything BUT Nephites.
In establishing their order, they set up their “craft”, based upon slave labor. Alma’s preaching to
the poor would destroy that craft, as the poor would realize they did not have to remain
Untouchables under the Zoramite religious caste system.
I think Korihor was sent out from the Zoramites as a missionary to the Nephites, trying to preach
Zoramite beliefs to them (survival of the fittest, no Christ, etc). When Korihor fails and returns, he
is trodden to death by his own people, who cannot accept failure from a former hero. Alma and
Amulek would reference this connection: “29 Therefore, if ye do not remember to be charitable, ye
are as dross, which the refiners do cast out, (it being of no worth) and is trodden under foot of
men” (Alma 34:29).
Clearly, Alma is comparing the Nephite and Zoramite religions, using Korihor as an example.
Gerald Smith
A few quick thoughts:
Julie discusses “house preaching” and a possible relationship to the New Testament
practice. I wonder if a previous Book of Mormon example might include Alma’s
experience with Amulek, where Amulek takes Alma in and feeds him. Alma 8:22 says
that Alma “blessed Amulek and his house,” and later we learn that Alma “tarried many
days with Amulek before he began to preach unto the people” (8:27). By the end of this
experience, Amulek is called as Alma’s missionary companion to “declare the words of
God” (8:29-30), so it’s not unreasonable to assume that Alma was preaching and teaching
in Amulek’s house, preparing him for this calling.
If the text supports that reading, then ch. 32 raises the question of whose house (or which
households) were involved in the practice. Perhaps the leader of the poor Zoramites had
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had some exposure (as a servant?) to the preaching of Alma, which would explain why
he feels that they can address Alma/hope that Alma might have an answer to his/their
question.
I also appreciate Julie’s contrast between the Rameumptom and the hill Onidah.
Continuing that line of thought, and addressing Joe’s question of staging in comment 2, I
like the contrast between nature and artifice. Is it possible that this natural setting—on a
hill, outside, presumably with plants growing on it, and possibly outside city walls and
proximate to farmlands—provides a subtle physical or tangential witness to Alma’s
imagery? The agricultural themes and images Alma uses certainly seem appropriate a
rural or natural setting. And if I were making a film out of this chapter, I’d set it outdoors
looking out towards fields so that Alma could point to fruitful plants in the distance and
finger small seeds from the nearby shrubs and such as he spoke for emphasis.
Of course, this is an extrapolation, but I think it’s plausible. As such, it could provide an
interesting (hypothetical) insight into Alma’s pedagogical practice. It might also tell us
something about his audience, in that his discourse assumes familiarity with agriculture
(were they farmers pressed into construction by the Zoramites?). Is Alma’s discourse
possibly crafted to imply the worth of both faith and agriculture? (Doesn’t Joseph Smith
at one point describe Zion as essentially agricultural? Did I hear something like that from
Joe? I’m going to blame Joe for that thought….) Wouldn’t it be that much more powerful
if Alma was essentially saying to the poor Zoramites, “you know how to grow things,
which knowledge is actually of greater worth and use—if you return to what you know
and cultivate the seed, you will be productive both here and in the eternities”?
One last thought on Onidah versus Rameumptom: Joe says “I see the move from
synagogues/houses to the streets as disrupting or—the term is so appropriate here—
deconstructing” (#2). I’m in agreement both with his conclusion, and with his use of
“deconstruction” as an apt term. It appears to me that the whole first half or so of the
chapter contains multiple deconstructions on various levels. The implicit move away
from the Rameumptom to Onidah at the beginning of chapter 32 signals this
deconstructive theme. Alma will literally de-construct the societal/cultural/religious
artifice cemented by the Rameumptom. I like Julie’s reading that “The implication is that
the Zoramites are trying to force closeness to God, or to achieve it on their own terms,
through their own creation.” Alma’s goal, signaled by the specifically un-constructed
place of the hill (even if the hill was inside the city, no one built the hill), deconstructs the
structured and static worship of the Zoramites and instead introduces the concept of
worship as natural, as growth.
Once again, more later …
v. 5, “Behold, what shall these my brethren do, for they are despised of all men
because of their poverty, yea, and more especially by our priests . . . ”
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I don’t have a whole lot to add to the excellent readings of v.1-5 so far, but I am especially
interested in v. 5.
I find it fascinating that the “well-to-do” despise the poor. This seems to be a pretty strong
reaction. What’s the reason for the ferocity of their ressentiment? What accounts for the
force of their negative response?
If the “well-to-do” were doing-well because of their own strength, why would they care
about the poor enough to bother despising them? Something smells funny here.
Here, I think we’ve got an example of the same old story that dominates most all of our
lives: the poor are actively despised by the “well-to-do” because their very appearance
threatens to puncture the fantasies of self-sufficiency and wholeness and independence
that all our clothes, prayers, self-congratulation, and social exclusivity are meant to
strengthen and maintain.
The poor are despised because only luck prevents us from being them. We could be
them. We might yet be them. Or, better: we are, in fact, them - insufficient, incomplete,
and entirely dependent on grace and good fortune.
The “well-to-do” bother to despise the poor because all the clothes, prayers, and social
exclusivity are just so much window dressing meant to obscure our basic continuity with
them. Jealous of the poor (at least they have the freedom of having nothing to lose! the
freedom of not having to pretend!), we despise them.
As Nietzsche would say: if the strong were truly strong, they wouldn’t bother to despise
the poor. Only the weak despise weakness, the strong have no reason to fear or consider
or resent it.
All this goes doubly so for the priests: tasked with the work of using religion as a cover
for both their own and their congregation’s weakness, the threat of the poor exposing the
shared weakness that characterizes the “well-to-do” and poor alike means that the poor
are despised “more especially by our priests.” Here, the priest, as for Nietzsche,
epitomizes ressentiment.
I very much like these further comments, from Jenny and from Adam, as well as from
Gerald.
One further thought to add for now:
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What is the relationship between, on the one hand, the “much labor” of the missionaries
among the people and the budding “success” among the poor, and, on the other hand,
the question raised by the advocate/spokesman? That is, how does “What shall these my
brethren do?” address itself—even if implicitly—to the position Alma and the other
missionaries have assumed in their prolonged teaching?
Is it best to read this question as confessing a kind of development on the part of this
group of poor Zoramites? That is, to see the question as a kind of concession—”Okay,
you’ve convinced us to begin to take God seriously”—that suddenly seems to force the
poor into an aporetic moment—”But then, how are we to do that (i.e., worship) when we
have no access to the synagogues?”? Alma’s almost effusive response to this question
would suggest that he interpreted it in a rather charitable way, but what more might be
said about this?
These questions are, I think, a helpful preparation for what we’ll be talking about next
week.
Thanks to Julie and Joe, I’ve been thinking about the word “immediately” in verse 6. (Just
as a side note, I’ve read the verse as Alma turning about to face the spokesman for the
poor Zoramites, but I like how Julie’s comments point out that the text is slippery enough
to present other possibilities.) I see the phrase “his face immediately towards him” as
modifying the prior “he turned him about”—describing either how he turned himself
about (where “immediately” implies the haste/eagerness/rapidity/etc. of the turning) or
the result of this turning (where “immediately” implies something like being wholly
present before the other in that moment).
Narratively, I think the first option works; thematically, I like the second option because
it contrasts Alma’s perception of this group (as souls equally precious) to the upper-class
Zoramites’ perception (as beings without intrinsic worth). The second option also
provides an interesting link to faith in that it contextualizes Alma’s discourse as a
careful/honest/individual response to a group that he actually sees. This quality of
specificity in response reminds me of Isaiah: Isaiah’s words are extremely specific to their
historical context, and yet, as scripture, they access a poetics of universality that allows
for their continued (eternal) significance.
Alma 32 functions in some ways as one of the “go to” sources in the scriptures for the
study of faith for latter-day saints. I wonder if this universality is a result of Alma’s
individual response to a specific historical context?
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Other quick questions/points:
1. Re: Julie’s discussion of the significance of “poor in heart.” I wonder if it would be

useful to try to understand what “poor in heart” means by thinking through an opposite:
what would it mean to be “rich in heart”?
2. Re: Gerald’s comment (#6). I liked the possibility that Korihor was trampled due to his
failure as a missionary and the parallel that reading constructs between Nephite and
Zoramite religion. I’ve read other works that also see Korihor as a missionary—either
from the Zoramites, or from the Lamanites, or as a Nephite converted to the Lamanite
religion and then sent out.
What most interested me about his comment was the connection he made between
Korihor’s fate in Alma 30:59 (”he was run upon and trodden down, even until he was
dead”) and Alma 34:29. There, Amulek states that without charity, “ye are as dross,
which the refiners do cast out, (it being of no worth) and is trodden under the foot of
men.” I see a connection with of our discussion of the Zoramite poor developed this
week, specifically in Alma 32:3 (note “yea, they were esteemed by their brethren as
dross”).
There are several things going on here.
A) Things that are of no worth (dross) are trodden under foot, therefore, Korihor, being
trodden, was esteemed as having no worth by the Zoramites (either because he failed as
a missionary, or, possibly, because in his new economic position [beggar] he fails to have
any “use”—i.e., his treatment by the Zoramites foreshadows how they will treat all their
poor).
B) With the treatment given to Korihor and Amulek’s description of what to do with
dross in mind, the poor Zoramites are contextualized as being symbolically trodden on
by the upper-class Zoramites.
C) Amulek’s discourse in chapter 34 then reverses the position of this image of being
trodden upon: the poor Zoramites have been placed in a position where they can now be
productive (they can cultivate a relationship with God) in chapters 32-33; in chapter 34,
Amulek asserts that true worth is the result having charity (vs. 28-29). Between Alma and
Amulek, the entire concept of worth/use/productivity has been inverted from the
economically-based Zoramite thought to the faith/hope/charity-based system of God.
They’ve restored the poor Zoramites’ ability to perceive their own inherent value. (That
that reads a bit like a YW lesson. Hmmm …)
3. Re: Adam in #8. Yes! Thank you for making that point so clearly. Would it be fair to
say that Zion disrupts the economic order precisely in order to cut off the potential for
despising others? That in ch. 32 Alma points us towards that economic disruption by
reorienting us (replanting us) towards faith—a grounding in faith/hope/charity
resulting in true strength?
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4. Re: Joe in #9. I really like the reading you give here. It makes sense that in order to be
taught/receptive, the poor Zoramites would have to have accepted at least on some level
Alma’s authority/position. It’s really hard to teach when there is no trust in the teacher—
and ch. 32 doesn’t read like someone trying to convince as much as instruct. But I hadn’t
ever put it together as you did, so thank you. I wonder if the possibility of this
relationship between Alma and the poor Zoramites is related to Alma’s description of
them in verse 6 where he says “they were in a preparation to hear the word.” I’ve been
trying to figure out what “in a preparation” means—it sound like they’re now in a
prepared state, but what is that state? Vs. 6 qualifies it as “humbled”; with your reading,
I see it as their being open to listening (they are willing to defer to the words of Alma at
this point). I don’t think I’ve put it all together yet, but I do think the questions you raise
are important.
12. on July 7, 2008 at 10:12 am12 Adam Miller
A late comment or two as I re-read some of the opening verses:
Is Alma’s freedom to “enter into their synagogues, and into their houses, etc.” (v1)
explicitly contrasted with the fact that the poor are “not permitted to enter into their
synagogues” (v3)? Alma (former chief-judge, now high-priest) enjoys a social
prestige/mobility that the poor do not?
Also, is Alma’s own back turned to the poor previous to v6? He is speaking to an
“other multitude” (v7) and when the poor approach he must first “turn him[self] about”
(v6). Might this relate to the delay the missionaries experience in having any success
among the Zoramites (cf. v2)?
13. on July 22, 2008 at 5:21 pm13 faulconj
Relevant thoughts:
In Brant Gardner’s Second Witness: Analytical and Contextual Commentary on the Book of
Mormon (Salt Lake: Kofford, 2007), vol 4, Gardner makes this observation:
Mormon tells us that the poor are not only separated from the rich in the synagogues—
which is doubtless accurate—but also that they are forbidden even to enter. This second
fact is problematic.
With the greatest caution, I suggest that Mormon is inaccurate in asserting that
proscription against the poor. He wrote this text about five hundred years after the fact,
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with an already well-documented bias against all apostates. It is most probable that in
this case Mormon is overstating the case. Here are the factors to consider.
First, Antionum is geographically separated from other Nephite locations, which means
that it must be virtually self-sustaining. Only a small number of elites would not be
engaged in farming. Lacking a monetary system, these urban elites are absolutely
dependant on the farmers for food, for which the elites exchange religious and political
services. It was a two-tiered social system: farmers and elites. Mesoamerica had no
middle class this early; traders and merchants (as an identifiable separate class) come
much later.
Coercion is not likely to be the main reason why the lower-class farmers are willing to
support the urban elites. The farmers were in the fields, outside the city and not under
any direct supervision. If they were badly treated, they could leave. Because Antionum is
fairly new, some of the farmers may have arrived in the area with the elites.
Therefore, the relationship between the farmer-poor and the elite-rich had to confer
mutual benefit on both or it would not have endured. Mandatory exclusion of the poor
would have inevitably led to their alienation from the rich and, almost certainly, their
refusal to continue providing food and support. Indeed, the eventual demise of Copán (a
Maya city in modern Honduras near the Guatamalan border) in the eighth century A.D.
apparently resulted from just such an abandonment by the farmers. (See the commentary
accompanying Alma 35:4-6.) For these reasons, I conclude that Mormon is incorrect in
saying the farmers were “not permitted” into the synagogues, if such permission took the
form of guards or of legal bans.
What, then, prevented their entry? Mormon has preserved another reason: “They were
cast out of the synagogues because of the coarseness of their apparel!” (v. 2). The Nephite
prophets had disparaged costly apparel from the days of Jacob about five hundred years
earlier (see commentary accompanying Jacob 2:12-13) before the resulting social
segregation. Antionum is living evidence of the inequality that the prophets predicted
would come from emphasizing costly apparel.
As already described, Zoramite worship required the worshipper to come forward,

sstand in an elavated location in the sight of everyone, and utter a prayer declaring the
superiority of his beliefs. His visible “costly apparel” would reinforce his superiority.
Now imagine the effect of a poor farmer who chose to also mount the Rameumptom and
offer the prayer. Almost certainly, in contrast to the others who prayed, this farmer
would have little political influence or social standing. His inadequate clothing would
reinforce his social incongruity. Thus, he would not only be exposed in public
(traditionally a forum the poor avoid) but also recited a prayer that hightlight differences
in a way that did not favor him. The humiliation of being in such a position was the only
mechanism of exclusion that was necessary. (445-46)
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14. on July 23, 2008 at 3:20 am14 faulconj
Verse 5: Brand notes also that, if Zoramite worship still followed the Israelite division of
worship into communal and familial (the latter of which is not referred to in the Book of
Mormon), then the Zoramite poor were denied access to the communal aspect of
worship, an aspect for which place is often as important as the particular rituals
themselves.
Brand’s interpretation suggests that in Alma 33 Alma is reminding them of the possibility
of family as well as communal worship. He replaces one sense of place—geographic
location—with another, spiritual place before God. Brand suggests that the latter may be
more individual- and family-based than the former (which usually relies on a priestly
caste).
Alma 32:1-6 Summary

June 21, 2008 by juliemariesmith
A few summary thoughts:
Most of you think that
“and now when Alma heard this, he turned him about, his face immediately towards him . . .”
probably means
Alma turned himself about with [Alma's] face immediately towards the other man’s.
And the consensus seems to be that this is a significant “stage direction” but we didn’t
figure out what it implies. (I’d like more insight into the “immediately” as well, this word
is a key word in Mark’s Gospel, appearing something like 67 times in 16 chapters.) Many
of the comments were focused on place in either the larger geographical sense or the
human-made versus natural aspect; I am wondering if we can link these larger concerns
to this small detail of one person turning toward another.
Joe fleshed out the “place” issue with some great comments on “the streets.” Given my
initial suggestion that man-made versus natural places play symbolic roles here, I am
wondering how “the streets” would fit into that classification. Their streets, I would
assume, were basically natural places (i.e., not paved–but do we really know?) but
natural places shaped by significant human impact. I’m not quite sure what to do with
this . . . I do like Joe’s comment that natural vs. man-made appears again in the complaint
in v5 that the poor have been removed from that which they constructed. I like to see
y’all having fun with the word ‘deconstructed’ and it is certainly doubly appropriate
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here. Pretty soon we will see Alma using “natural” metaphors of seeds, trees, etc.: is there
anything human-made in these chapters that meets with approval?
We all loved Jim’s observation that Alma answers the “wrong” question two times in this
section, but I wonder if a discourse focused on natural things (in ch 32) might be the right
answer to a question about being removed from a man-made “place,” and, then in ch33,
an answer about place might be the right answer to a question about “where to plant the
seed.” (I think this is what Jenny’s comment #5 was getting at.)
It appears that thinking about geography and place and (de)construction has been useful
in understanding these verses; I hope we can continue thinking in these categories as we
discuss the rest of the chapter.
Alma 32: 7–13

June 23, 2008 by jennywebb 
I decided to group my comments by verse in an attempt to impose some sort of structure

on my scattered notes … which, as you will soon find, tend to end with questions rather
than conclusions. Sorry they got so long—hopefully something here will spark some
discussion.
Verse 7
I would like to continue the discussion of place here, in part as a response to Julie’s
question in her summary: ”can [we] link these larger concerns to this small detail of one
person turning toward another” [to the theme place]? This verse functions narratively
with verse 6—the actions that Alma begins in verse 6 are completed here. It has been
helpful for me to try to visualize the various “stage directions” in part because they
ground the action in a specific spatial context, but also because I think that they are
potentially intentional details provided by the narrator. One possible reading of the text
here is to see Mormon as editor rewriting the narration from his primary sources. Such
sources may or may not have actually recorded detailed actions such as Alma turning
himself about to face the speaker or stretching forth his hand to the multitude: it is
possible that they were added in order to provide an enhanced understanding of Alma’s
words. Even if this theory of editorial insertion proves untrue, the alternative is that
Alma really did perform these actions and they were considered important enough to
record. In each case, I think there is good reason to ask ourselves 1) Why is Alma
(described as) taking this specific action here? 2) How does this action relate to Alma’s
teachings in this section/chapter? 3) In what way do these actions help us to think about
the theme of place?
In verse 7, I see several distinct actions:
• Alma stops speaking (as a result of his turning about in verse 6)

• Alma stretches forth his hand before he begins to speak
• Alma “cried” (which I take as something along the lines of “began to speak
with power”)
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• Alma “beheld” the multitude (this action relates back to the two “behelds” of
verse 6—why is there such an emphasis on sight/vision here and how do the 3
work together?)
• Alma begins to speak (is it significant that we are told twice in this verse that
Alma speaks?)
In fact, the only part of the verse that doesn’t appear to relate a specific action is the
descriptive phrase “who were truly penitent” (modifying those whom Alma beheld).
Given the action-oriented nature of this verse, this phrase seems important. Does it imply
that Alma could somehow see some type of sincerity in the multitude? In specific
people? (Did he only really see those who were truly penitent?) The certainty of this
description—that their penitence is true—is a bit odd given Alma’s assessment later on
that members of the group have been compelled to be humble, and others would have
been humble even without being compelled (in my reading, at least, being truly penitent
= being prepared to repent, but ≠ being humble due to economic circumstances). Is it
possible that this is a demonstration of Alma’s own willingness to “plant the seed” so to
speak and give the multitude the benefit of his own belief in them, that they aretruly
penitent and therefore prepared to receive the gospel and gain their own testimonies? If
that is the case, are there ways in which Alma’s discourse on faith here is simultaneously
illustrated by his own actions?
Verse 8
The first words that Alma speaks to the multitude are themselves a bit odd: “I behold
[again, the emphasis on seeing] that ye are lowly in heart; and if so, blessed are ye.” In
verse 5 he is essentially asked a question for which the expected response would be some
type of direction or instruction for action (”what shall we do?”), and his response is to
turn around, stretch out his hand, and say “I see you are lowly in heart.” Previously, the
narrator has taken pains to help us understand that this group is both economically poor
and poor in heart and in verse 5 the spokesman referenced their social/economic
poverty—it seems like it is significant that Alma chooses to first describe the multitude in
related terms. In what way is being lowly in heart similar to and distinct from being poor
in heart? Is Alma offering his own assessment of their situation—one in which the focus
is not on their economic poverty but their spiritual poverty? Is he choosing how he sees
them, and if so, is this another example of Alma’s faith (is he somehow exercising faith in
his hope that their primary problem is spiritual impoverishment)?
I don’t mean to ignore the second half of the verse, especially as its meaning is somewhat
obscured. What is the function of “and if so”? Is it meant to express room for doubt or
uncertainty in his previous assessment? In other words, does the sentence read “I see you
are lowly in heart, and if that’s right, then you are blessed”? Or is it simply poorly-
worded connective tissue trying to communicate something more along the lines of “I see
you are lowly in heart, and as such, ye are blessed”? What are the implications of the
differences between these two options, specifically in terms of Alma’s (possible)
demonstration of faith here? In either case, do we see another example of Alma’s faith in
his evaluation of the multitude as blessed? Are they really blessed? Or are they simply
prepared to be blessed? Or does Alma see their potential to be blessed?
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Finally, I think it’s important to point out that the structure of this verse is essentially two
adjectival clauses connected by an uncertain conjunctive phrase (A ≈ B). I’m struck by
Alma’s first verbal response to the question put to him—essentially, his response is to
provide to somewhat equivalent descriptions. I’m trying to follow his logic here. “What
should we do?” “You are lowly in heart and blessed.” It reads almost like Alma’s
response is to recontextualize his audience, or perhaps provide a verbal disorientation or
shock in order to help them look at themselves anew. They have come to Alma with their
own diagnosis, but his response essentially interrupts that diagnosis. In this sense, it
might be important that structurally Alma’s response is a repetition: he immediately
provides two descriptions, one right after the other.
Verse 9
Here, Alma now repeats the question put to him by the spokesman. My old MTC
training kicked in—I’m having a hard time reading this without thinking “Wow, what a
great missionary! He’s totally repeating the question for them to make sure he
understands what their concern is!” Which, of course, is what he’s doing. Rhetorically, I
think Alma’s making an important point: after verse 8 with its somewhat unintuitive
response, Alma immediately returns to what the multitude sees as the question at hand.
In doing so, he reaffirms that he is willing to listen to them and that he does take their
concern seriously. If he had skipped this step, it’s possible that the multitude could have
decided to not listen to him, as he apparently had not heard their original request.
Verses 10-11
I’ve grouped these because I read them as serving a similar purpose. These verses serve
as Alma’s second response to the original question. This time, instead of two
descriptions, Alma responds with two rhetorical questions. (Again, he seems concerned
with providing repetition in his remarks. Does this trait continue throughout the
discourse?) However, these questions also serve to “de-center” the multitude in that each
question is one to which the multitude would normally have answered “yes” but which,
in Alma’s rhetorical use, now clearly are to be answered “no.” This expected negative
response is underscored in the actual negative construction of the questions themselves.
We understand verse 10 as asking “do you think you can only worship God in your
synagogues?”, but Alma uses the negative construction “that ye cannot.” In verse 11 we
understand “can you only worship God once a week?”, which Alma constructs with
“that ye must not worship.” Is there any significance in reading these questions—
questions for which the answer is an inversion of the expected answer—as parallel to the
question put to Alma by the spokesman? In other words, should we also expect an
“inverted” answer to his question?
Again, I find these verses structurally suggestive. In verse 9, Alma begins with “Behold”
and then restates their self-diagnosis by repeating their original question. Verse 10 also
begins with “Behold,” marking both its relationship to and separation from verse 9. In
response to the question put to him by the multitude, Alma provides his own questions.
Again, there is something analystic in this move. The content of the questions could be
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read as irrelevant—the important point is that formally Alma asks in response to their
asking. Is it possible to read this response as a structural “che vuoi”? If we read the
content of Alma’s response here as disrupting the poor Zoramites’ cohesive perceptions
of the world, can we read the form of the response as simultaneously disrupting their
understanding of their desires?
Verse 12
Following the “disorientation” in the previous verses, Alma now moves into a series of
assertions that continue the theme. Being cast out of their synagogue is changed from a
problem into a blessing. I believe that the language used in the first half of this verse
subtly evokes edenic themes. Consider the following: “cast out” (mentioned twice); “that
ye may learn wisdom”; and “it is necessary that ye should learn wisdom.” Why would
Alma draw upon the idea of the Fall here? I think it’s possible to read this as a strategy in
which Alma compares the poor Zoramites’ current state to being fallen and wherein the
development of faith is then aligned with redemption. This redemption is specifically
described in terms of cultivation (a return to the Garden?), and results in the
consumption of a superlatively precious, sweet, white, pure, fruit that fully satiates
(bringing one to a state where, without the danger of hunger and thirst, death no longer
threatens life). Is this edenic recontextualization another form of disrupting the
multitudes’ expectations perhaps?
The logic of the second half of the verse has me puzzled, and I would appreciate any
clarifying input. Essentially, I’m unsure as to what the “for it is because that” and the
subsequent “that”s refer to. Is Alma saying “it is because that [ye may learn wisdom] ye
are cast out” or “it is because that [i.e., since] ye are cast out”? Or something different I’m
missing altogether? The two options presented here, if followed throughout the verse,
provide somewhat different readings of the text:
Option 1
• You are cast out so you can learn wisdom
• So that you can learn wisdom your brethren despise you due to your poverty
• So that you can learn wisdom you are brought to a lowliness of heart
Option 2
• Since you are cast out
• You are despised by your brethren due to your poverty
• (and) you are brought to a lowliness of heart
Whichever option is followed, the result is the same: their humbling appears to have
been necessary.
Verse 13
Again, this verse contains statements that could initially be disorienting or unexpected,
beginning with “because ye are compelled to be humble blessed are ye.” Generally, we
do not equate compelled humility with blessing, and yet the distinction Alma will draw
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between freely given humility and compelled humility is one of degrees of blessing: the
humble are blessed and more blessed. In either case, they are blessed. This emphasis on
being blessed in both cases recalls for me our earlier discussion of the implicit idea that
there is some type of belief or blessing found in simply hearing/reading the word (see
Jim’s question on 33:14, for example). Is Alma making a similar type of claim here?
I’d like to focus on the structure of this blessing as described by Alma.
He states that
• they are blessed because they are compelled to be humble
• this state is a blessing because sometimes (I think it’s interesting that Alma
notes the following actions are not necessary to the state, but simply a possibility in
the state) someone so compelled will seek repentance
• once repentance is sought, mercy will be found (again, interesting now that
this result is not conditional)
• someone who finds mercy (because they repented) and endureth to the end
(does this mean they keep on repenting? they keep on finding more mercy?
something else?) will be saved (again, the first half is implicitly conditional—one
has to both find mercy and endure—but the second half is not—salvation can be a
guaranteed result)
I read the structure of Alma’s description of the path to salvation as deeply personal: this
story is Alma’s conversion story (I’m going to use ch. 36 for the following). Alma himself
was one compelled to humility through the words of an angel which stopped his actions
and caused him to view his reality (that he might be destroyed vs. 9-11). In that state,
Alma had a choice to seek repentance. After remembering all his sins and being wracked
with torment for three days (in which he desires to stop existing—in other words, he
loses his desire for his sins and wishes to completely change his being [the only way he
can conceive of being different from what he is at that moment is to not be], vs. 12-16),
Alma suddenly remembers the name Jesus Christ and his mission (to atone, v. 17). He
seeks Christ—he seeks mercy (v. 18). And immediately mercy is given to him and he can
remember his pains no more (v. 19). After his conversion, Alma labors for God from that
time forth (he endures to the end; v. 24). In the end, he knows he will be lifted up and
saved (v. 28).
When Alma testifies to the poor Zoramites that “whosoever repenteth shall find mercy,”
he’s relating his own personal conversion. It is this testimony that provides the logic that
motivates the previous seemingly illogical statements in these verses: being lowly of
heart = being blessed; it is well that ye are cast out; because ye are compelled to be
humble blessed are ye. Each of these statements, in the context of Alma’s personal
conversion, works, so to speak. Although his audience may not be aware of it, Alma is
effectively equating himself and his experience with those before him. I don’t think it’s a
stretch to say he sees himself in them (and, most likely, in all unrepentant sinners). His
own role, however, is different this time: he, as the messenger, must provide the words
that will fundamentally disrupt the Zoramites.
Finally, to return to faith, a few questions. Do these verses (12 and 13) continue to
demonstrate a facet of Alma’s faith? Perhaps faith as a principle of action; faith in the
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ability to repent and change; faith in the surety of mercy? Does Alma show faith in the
poor Zoramites by continually recasting them as blessed? Regarding the relationship
between the word and faith, what can we make of the centrality of words (the words of
the angel) in Alma’s own conversion and the fact that Alma arguably uses his own words
for a similar (disruptive) purpose as he begins to speak to the multitude?

14 Responses to “Alma 32: 7–13”
In response to your comments on verse 7, Jenny:
I think you’ve nicely begun to anticipate some real difficulties and tensions in the
chapter: in the verses following the section we’re studying this week, Alma will say
things that seem to call into question the narrative descriptions of verses 1-7: were they
“truly humbled” or not?
The primary tension this sets up, it seems to me, is one between dialogue and narrative:
what Alma says is at some odds with what the narrator has to say. How might we
respond to this? Which of the two is ignorant, misguided, or presumptive… or is it just
that we are (all three)?
I want to think about this more (as well as get to your comments on the remainder of the
verses here!).
Thanks, Jenny. I really like your observation of Edenic themes in verse 12.
A few other thoughts:
(1) Would it be fruitful to read Alma’s words as poetry? I hadn’t considered this before
but parallelism jumped out at me in these verses so let me try a quick experiment:
I behold that ye are lowly in heart;

and if so, blessed are ye.
(synthetic parallelism–cause and effect, complicated, as Jenny notes, by the “and if so”)
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Behold thy brother hath said, What shall we do?
—for we are cast out of our synagogues,
that we cannot worship our God.
(climactic parallelism)
Behold I say unto you, do ye suppose that ye cannot worship God save it be in your
synagogues only?
And moreover, I would ask, do ye suppose that ye must not worship God only once in a
week?
(synonymous parallelism–causing us to focus on what the “place” and “timing” issues
have to do with each other)
I say unto you,

A it is well that ye are cast out of your synagogues,
that ye may be humble,
B and that ye may learn wisdom;
B’ for it is necessary that ye should learn wisdom;
A for it is because that ye are cast out,
(chiastic parallelism–this isn’t perfect [what to do with 'that ye may be humble?] but it is
close, and it does focus our attention on the issue of wisdom, but to what end?)
–that ye are despised of your brethren because of your exceeding poverty,

–that ye are brought to a lowliness of heart;
–for ye are necessarily brought to be humble.
(OK, not entirely sure what to do with this section, maybe it needs to be incorporated
into the section above it or maybe it is climactic or synonymous)
And now, because ye are compelled to be humble blessed are ye;

–for a man sometimes, if he is compelled to be humble, seeketh repentance;
–and now surely, whosoever repenteth shall find mercy; –and he that findeth mercy and
endureth to the end the same shall be saved.
(this is a lovely example of staircase-like parallelism and is what made me think Alma’s
speech might be poetry in the first place–note the repetition of key words and that the
key word occurs at the end of one line and then at the beginning of the next
HUMBLE -> REPENTANCE -> MERCY -> SAVED )
(2) In v7, Alma decides to say no more to the other multitude, but that multitude was
introduced in v4 as “of whom were poor in heart, because of their poverty as to the
things of the world.” This makes me think that being “poor in heart” isn’t enough. . .
(3) Jenny calls our attention to “stretched forth his hand” and I’d like to think about that
more. I get dozens of hits for it in the scriptures and a quick scan suggests that most have
to do with exercising God’s power and/or compassion (for example: “And Moses
stretched forth his hand over the sea” and from Alma 14: “And when Amulek saw the
pains of the women and children who were consuming in the fire, he also was pained;
and he said unto Alma: How can we witness this awful scene? Therefore let us stretch
forth our hands, and exercise the power of God which is in us, and save them from the
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flames. But Alma said unto him: The Spirit constraineth me that I must not stretch forth
mine hand”) So what does it mean that Alma would stretch forth his hand in this
context?
(4) How can you behold lowliness of heart (v8)? Was this physically obvious? (And, if so,
how would this relate to all that business about clothing, etc.?)
(5) V9: Alma calls him “thy brother;” in v5 the narrator called him “the one who was the
foremost among them.” Is it pushing too far to suggest (and I’m working with the
tension between Alma and the narrator that Joe mentions in comment 1) that Alma
doesn’t see/recognize the class distinctions that even the narrator does?
(6) There are substantial differences between v5 and Alma’s summary of it in v9. One is
the switch from “my brethren” to “we.” Another is the elimination of all of the causality
(priests, poverty, etc.) for a simple statement of the problem. What to make of these
changes?
Jenny, I think you’re quite right in your reading of verse 8. If the tension between the “I
behold” and the “if so” begins to disorient/reorient the Zoramite poor, the following
verses end up doing this much more directly, confirming or even radicalizing verse 8.
Another note on verse 8 that is not entirely unrelated: I see verse 8 forming an
inclusio with verses 12-13. That is:
A I behold that ye are lowly in heart;

B and if so, blessed are ye. (v. 8)
B’ brought to a lowliness of heart (v. 12)
A’ And now, . . . blessed are ye; (v. 13)
I like this, because it establishes some kind of boundaries on Alma’s work of

dis/reorientation: it is undertaken primarily within the space opened by the disjunction
between the “I behold” and the “if so,” a space textually embodied by the stretch of text
that is verses 8-13. (It is significant, on this reading, that verse 13 dares to overflow
the inclusio by a few phrases, which verse 14 then essentially erases, such that the last
part of verse 13 could be written sous rature, under erasure or crossed out….)
Regarding verse 9: doesn’t Alma repeat the question precisely in order to set it up in a
kind of contrastive relationship with his own statement: “Behold thy brother hath said”
(v. 9) is set over against “Behold I say unto you” (v. 10) and “I would ask” (v. 11)? To
what extent does the “great missionary” do this, that is, repeat the question not only to
allow the “investigator” to confront the autonomy of her desire as represented in the
wording of her question, but also to reinforce that autonomy by interpreting the question
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implicitly through contrastive repositioning? Might this, moreover, be compared to
Jesus’ method in the Sermon on the Mount: you have heard it said, but I say…?
Regarding verses 10-11: I really like Jenny’s points about Alma structuring his rhetorical
questions negatively. I wonder if this doesn’t also highlight what Alma sense as a kind of
inability/impossibility on the part of the Zoramite poor. That is, by speaking of what
they “cannot” and “must not” do, does he not highlight the structural inability that
results from their constructivism? This would nicely emphasize again the contrastive
relationship Alma establishes between what the poor’s “brother hath said” and what he
has to say: while the Zoramite poor have spoken of what to do (action), Alma speaks of
their obsession with action as essentially disabling (inaction). One could see this as an
almost necessary interpretation of their question: to ask what one should do is to reveal
that one is hesitating, Hamlet-like, because of one’s structural inability.
To put all of this another way, Alma could be said effectively to have reworked the
proffered question thus: “What work can we do to save ourselves?” And to this, of
course, the only answer is: none!
I find it interesting, though I’m not at all sure where to go with this, that verses 10-11
have the double focus of space and time: verse 10 deals with where and verse 11
with when one can worship. Space and time are arguably brought into existence by the
constructive effort of the work of building (cf. Hegel, Heidegger, etc.). But, of course,
Alma sees that very existence as an unbearable burden: the existence of space and time
make worship impossible.
Jenny, your comments on the Edenic themes of verse 12 are fascinating. I think you’ve hit
on something very, very promising there. I wish I had something to add to it!
I don’t know that I have any comments on which of the two options provided for verse
12 is the better reading, but I do find the mention of “learn[ing] wisdom” interesting in
light of all the Hegelian (master-slave) themes of the first verses of the chapter: “the fear
of the lord/master is the beginning of wisdom,” that is, of philosophy….
Reading verse 13 at this point is a bit of a chore, because it is the verses immediately
following it that give it is meaning. The “And now, as I said unto you” that opens verse
14 essentially erases the majority of verse 13 (everything after, I think, the closure of
the inclusio), saying something like “I’m getting ahead of myself, so let’s go back to, as
Alma explicitly does, the question of being compelled to be humble. Only then does the
meaning of this compulsion (to repeat?) get its significance because it is set forward in its
difference from another form of humility.
I see much or most of next week’s discussion ultimately turning on this question of two
humilities and what the relation between them ultimately is.
That said, I think the connection with Alma’s own conversion experience, laid out by
Jenny, is of major importance, especially since Alma is going to bring angels up
specifically in verse 23.
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Julie, I like what you’ve begun to do in working out the poetic structures of the text. How
does the inclusio I’ve (hopefully correctly) identified play into any reading of the poetic
structure? Also, I just pulled out Donald Parry’s The Book of Mormon Text Reformatted
according to Parallelistic Patterns to see if he had pulled any poetic structures out of these
verses. He only has one, a chiasm, stretching across the divide between verses 9-10:
A for we are cast out of our synagogues

B that we cannot worship our God
C Behold, I say unto you
B’ do ye suppose that ye cannot worship your God
A’ save it be in your synagogues only?
I don’t see this as enormously helpful, though it might be seen to play into the
contrastive I discuss above: Alma reverses the relationship between synagogue and
worship by placing worship before synagogue rather than synagogue before worship (as
he has the Zoramite spokesman do). But then I would not exactly be reading it as the
chiasm Parry suggests.
Julie’s second point, regarding the two multitudes, is fascinating, primarily because I had
never read any of the “positive” narrative comments as referring to the “bad” multitude.
Julie’s reading makes me realize that there are some real ambiguities in the text about
what descriptions refer to which multitudes. I want to look at this closer.
As well as at some of the other points Julie raises, especially her number six: it would be
worth putting these two texts side by side and doing a more extended critical
comparison that one is wont to do. Hmm….
Jenny, the first point you make is a crucial one for the way we are reading the scriptures.
Historical evidence may be relevant to understanding certain things within the text, but
in the end as scripturereaders our interest is in what the text says, not in whether it says
that because the original writer, or a compiler, or an editor, or an inspired prophet wrote
it that way. As you make clear, we aren’t interested in the history of the text, we are
interested in its meaning. (History can impinge on meaning, so it is not completely
irrelevant, but for the most part, we can ignore it.) The questions you ask are exactly the
kind of thing a good reader asks as she reads. They provide a good model for some of the
things we should ask whenever we read.
Why do you discount being humbled due to economic circumstances as a possible way
of being truly penitent? It seems to me that the plain reading of verse 7 is that the group
at which he is looking are the truly penitent. Verse 6 underscores that reading: he turns to
face the man who has asked him how they can worship, and he is seized with joy, seeing
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that “their afflictions had truly humbled them.” On that reading, I find verses 11 and 12
interesting because they show that true penitence is possible even for those who are
compelled to be humble. As someone whose humility, if it has ever come, came by
compulsion, I appreciate that teaching. Verse 13 continues that message: even those
compelled to be humble have humility sufficient for salvation.
I read the last half of verse 8 as you suggest: “I see you are lowly in heart, and as such, ye
are blessed.” But I don’t assume that the text itself is (or is not) poorly worded. I think we
have to be careful about applying our rhetorical and grammatical expectations to a text
from a time and culture alien to our own.
Your point that Alma appears to recontextualize his audience with his response is very
interesting to me because my own thinking about this chapter has been along these lines.
I’ve seen his answering their question with a non-answer only to answer their question in
33 with the answer to their first question. Thanks for pointing out that has been his
strategy at a smaller level as well, as in verses 9-10 and verse 13. Alma appears to think
that he cannot answer the question they ask unless he can move them into a different
world. Within their current world, there is no answer to their question. Only by being in
the world differently will there be an answer. We are going to see him try to move them
into that other way of being in the world.
I read verse 10 as saying “Do you suppose that you cannot worship God unless you are
in a synagogue?” I have a harder time understanding the grammar of verse 11. Is it an
inversion? I’m not sure. “You must not worship God only once in a week.” He must
mean “You must worship God only once a week” or “You can worship him only once a
week,” but I don’t see how to get one of those meanings out of the grammar in question.
Anyone else know how to parse the assumption to which Alma points?
Your insight about Edenic themes in verse 12 is brilliant! Thanks. Thanks also for the
comparison of verse 13 to Alma’s biography. The message that salvation, though of
course not final salvation, is available in this life, that it is not just “pie in the sky when
you die,” is important.
Jim, might we read verse 11 this way, by taking “only” to mean “except”: “do ye suppose
that ye must not worship God, except once in a week?” The “only” would thus emphasize
that the possible (”only”) is only an occasional bone thrown to one by the much more
imposing impossible (”must not”).
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Thanks, Joe. It is amazing how the obvious can be so difficult to see until someone else
points it out.
Jenny,
- I agree that your observations about the edenic themes in v12 and the autobiographical
dimension in v13 are excellent, especially because they open a lot of doors in thinking
about the rest of the chapter.
- One other comment about a comment. I also find Joe’s comment about v5/v9 very
helpful. He points out that asking “what shall we do?” is generally indicative of being in
a particular subjective predicament: finding oneself unable to act (a la Hamlet or, more
especially, Romans 7.19). This is useful because it directly connects their predicament
with their sinfulness: to be in sin is to have lost one’s capacity do what one would
because of the perceived constraints of ones situation.
In this way, we might read Alma’s response (his explication of faith) to be an answer to
exactly this kind of question: Finding oneself unable to act, how is it possible to become
once again capable of action?
- A couple of little comments of my own:
v7, “therefore he did say no more to the other multitude”
It may be of note that Alma’s sermon is aimed at a collective “multitude” rather than to
an individual. A different spiritual dynamic?
v7, “and cried unto those whom he beheld, who were truly penitent”
Perhaps this means that he was not addressing the entire multitude, but only those who
were truly penitent? Meaning that the “who were truly penitent” selects out the pertinent
subset of “those whom he beheld,” as in: “I’m speaking to my class, i.e., the ones who are
listening.” If so, I’m not sure I like it :)
v9, “we are cast out of our synagogues, that we cannot worship our God”
Alma’s explication of faith is a response to the question: how do we worship?
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v13, “and he that findeth mercy and endureth to the end the same shall be saved.”
I’m interested in the connection between finding mercy and enduring to the end. Is the
difficulty of enduring to the end the difficulty of enduring mercy itself? That is, its
difficult to endure mercy because we find the necessity of it so onerous? It constantly
bursts the bubble of my pretension to sufficiency (i.e., pride)?
Wow, so many great comments have been made while I was gone—it’s been so thought-
provoking that I hope I can download some of my many, many thoughts in a semi-
coherent way.
First, to add to the ongoing discussion of place, I think the “cast out” phrasing has not
been explicitly pointed out yet (though I haven’t double-checked Joe’s cross references):
in vv. 5, 9, 12 and 24 the Zoramite poor are described as being “cast out” and then in v. 28
the seed is also described as being “cast out” by unbelief. I think this lexical connection
helps justify much of the kind of thinking that has already been done regarding the
figurative significance of the physical descriptions given.
To that end, I think Alma’s turning and beholding the Zoramite poor can be taken as a
kind of giving place in himself to the situation of (i.e., listening to or seeing) the Zoramite
poor. In this sense, it’s noteworthy that the narrator chooses to give voice to the Zoramite
poor (via the one who represents them, which I think might be productively thought in
Christological terms…) beforegiving any specific content to the words that Alma spoke
(Joe, I think this might also be productively related to your/our thinking about Isaiah 6
and the way in which the council’s voices become intelligible only after the live coal was
pressed to his lips…).
Regarding the phrase “lowly/poor in heart,” I think this should be read in light of the
later “swell within your breasts” description of the seed (32:28, 34; 33:23; also, cf. 30:31
where Korhior used “swelling words before Alma”). Whereas Korihor and the Zoramites
exalt themselves in their clothing, buildings, and socio-economic despising of the poor,
God promises to exalt those that abase themselves by causing the seed within them to
swell, leading eventually to fruit as “rewards” (32:43; I think this “reward” phrasing is
also interesting in light of the economic terminology used in 32:1-6…). Rather than being
their own cause of their own neurotic fantasy of blessedness, real blessedness is a result
of giving place to the word, messengers, the poor and needy via charity (per ch. 34), etc.
Building on Adam’s point about patience in Alma 34, I think this delayed reward
furthers a theme of delayed gratification in this chapter as well as in 30-35 more
generally. For example, Korihor advocates measuring prosperity immediately as it
correlates to with genius and strength (30:17) whereas Alma responds “immediately” to a
request to know what to do (32:6) by giving them the word that will only (possibly) yield
fruit after careful (32:37) and diligent (32:41-42) nourishing (32:37-42) and patience (32:41-
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43). I think Julie’s comment (#2 point 6) about Alma’s non-reference to the priests as the
cause of their predicament is also important in this light—as has been mentioned earlier,
Alma is loosening up the aporetic situation that the Zoramite poor see themselves in, and
he does this by challenging (implicitly here) the causal logic that makes the Zoramite
poor feel stuck (or at least confused as to what to do). I think this impatient, causal logic
is also the target of Alma’s later sign-seeking discussion, but more on that next week.
Also regarding the immediate turning in verse 6, this made me think of the “eye to eye”
phrase in Isa 52:8 (cf. Mosiah 12:22; 15:29; 16:1; Alma 36:26; 3 Ne 16:18; 20:32), which is
also in the context of a messenger/servant delivering a message to a multitude (Israel).
I’m not sure how this should be read, but I do think it supports reading Alma’s im-
mediate turn to behold as having connotations of unmediated, unveiled, direct, unfeigned
etc.—connotations which I think fit nicely with the “brother”(32:9) address Alma uses to,
as I take it, suggest a brotherly-love kind of relationship, un-mediated by pride or
accusations, that he’s hoping the Zoramite poor will establish among themselves (cf. how
Amulek refers to Alma as “brother” in Alma 34:3, 6-7; cf. 34:11). To stretch this a tad
more: Christ, as Mediator, allows us to see through accusations of guilt (by Satan, the
Accuser, and by our own pride-induced, works-oriented view of our fallen state…) so as
to discern and experience God’s grace (as represented by the natural growth of the seed)
and love (as represented by the finally-obtained fruit).
(Oops, gotta run—I’ll try to be less reckless in my subsequent commenting….)
Jenny, do you have something specific in mind regarding the mention ofwisdom as an
explicitly edenic theme (I have the feeling I’m simply having a mental block on this
one…)?
10. on June 26, 2008 at 12:14 am10 jennywebb
These are great comments—where to begin? Joe (#1), I like how you name this tension as
that between dialogue and narrative, in part because calls up the relationship between
words/text and time/place. I wonder, though, if the point may be to first recognize such
tensions exist in scriptural texts as opposed to deciding who’s misguided/presumptive.
Whoever the narrator is, they do appear to have created (intentionally or not) a tension
with Alma’s words—but we generally accept both voices to have been inspired. I’m not
finding the words I want to clearly articulate my response here; I’ll have to think about
this and return later.
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Julie, I very, very much appreciate your work on the possibility of poetry in the text. (My
skills with poetry are, ahem, not well developed. Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want them to
take back my degree….) There are many traditions connecting poetry with
creation/naming/being, something that I think ties to what Jim (#4) aptly described as
Alma’s effort “to move them into that other way of being in the world.” (I really like that
characterization of Alma’s work here.)
If we can establish specific poetic forms in the text (and I think Julie’s provided enough
evidence to support that), the questions I run into are why would Alma speak this way?
Is this spontaneous poetic discourse, or something formalized after the fact during the
writing process? I also think it is suggestive of a prophet’s relationship to words
generally. We would be surprised to hear Pres. Monson deliver an entire discourse in
iambic pentameter, yet at the same time, we tend to take his words delivered during
conference with a greater sense of weight—possibly something akin to how we
understand poetry?
Julie asks: “what does it mean that Alma would stretch forth his hand in this context?”
This isn’t a definitive answer, but given the instance you describe where Alma decides
not to stretch out his hand to exercise the power of God to save the women and children
from the fire, I think we could read this image as an instance where Alma does decide to
exercise that power. In other words, perhaps the action physically foreshadows what
Alma will do in his discourse: extend to them the power of God unto salvation.
Re: Julie’s fifth point, I’m not sure the text supports a reading where Alma is blinded to
the class distinctions. We know in verse 12 he is conscious of the “exceeding poverty,”
which to me suggests awareness. Also, his use of the word “brother” here has been read
as Alma seeing the multitude as a kin-group.
I really also liked Julie’s sixth point in that Alma’s rephrasing of their problem eliminates
the middle-man, so to speak. He removes the explicit blaming of the priests for the
group’s problem, a move that allows for the return of autonomy/responsibility to the
multitude themselves. I wonder if reading it that way then somehow connects up with
Joe’s observations about verse 9 (#3).
More responses to the rest later … oh, but really quick for Robert (#9). I see the
connection in Eve’s realizations that it might have been better for them to eat the fruit
and be cast out because they have learned (and continue to learn) wisdom. Does that
help?
RE Adam’s comments (#7):
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Verse 7: That clause can be read as Adam suggests, but it can also be read to say that
those whom he beheld were truly penitent. I take it that way since, like Adam, I don’t
care for the other possibility. If someone were to object that surely not every individual in
the group was truly penitent, I would respond that the writer (Mormon?) writing
hundreds of years later wasn’t imputing some claim about the righteousness of each and
every individual. He was saying something about the group as a whole, a generality.
Verse 9: Adam’s question is also mine. I’ve wondered for a long time how to understand
a lecture on faith as a response to the question, “How shall we worship?” But Jennie’s
notes have helped me think about that a bit. Alma knows that there is no direct answer to
that question, at least not one that they can understand. Before he can answer their
question, he has to entice them to change their way of living in the world. If they will do
that, he can answer their question.
Verse 13: As I read “findeth mercy and endureth to the end,” the point is that finding
mercy and enduring to the end are the same. I suppose that does mean that the difficulty
of finding enduring is the difficulty of finding mercy, but I see it from another direction:
the lightness of finding mercy makes enduring to the end light. I take it that is related to
the point that Robert makes at the end of #8: Christ allows us to discern and experience
God’s grace: he allows us to find mercy. If we have mercy, then we will endure to the
end. That puts the emphasis on finding mercy rather than on enduring to the end, which
I think is a more productive way to think about enduring to the end.
Jenny (#10):
Great comparison of Alma stretching his hand out here and not to those executed by
fire—a troubling contrast itself, but a great insight on your part.
Regarding Alma’s “non-response” in ch. 32 to the question posed by the Zoramite poor
(which in verse 5 is, technically, what should we do as a result of not having a place to
worship), I remain a bit skeptical. That is, it seems to me that Alma gives his answer in
verse 22, namely, to believe on God’s word (tantamount in the later metaphor to giving
place to and nourishing the seed). I agree that this is not the kind of answer that the
Zoramites expect in response to their question (since believing is not much of an action—
but then, neither was looking to Moses’s staff…), but I think it is an answer nonetheless,
and I’m inclined to read chs. 32-33 as a rather systematic approach by Alma to try and get
the Zoramite poor to understand the significance of this seemingly insignificant action
(though not an action that doesn’t require effort, as the discussion of nourishing and
having patience and diligence attests—actions which form an interesting contrast with
the “simply looking to the staff” advice given in, e.g., 1 Ne 17:14ff or Alma 37:44ff…).
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Also, I find very interesting the contrast between the conditional/uncertain rhetoric used
regarding the response of the Zoramite poor (“if so” in v. 8—cf. “if” as used in vv. 13, 17-
18, 21, 27-28, 32, 36-38, 40-41; “do ye suppose” in v. 10 and repeated in v. 11—cf. vv. 14,
24; “sometimes” in v. 13) and the unconditional/sure rhetoric used in the response to these
conditionals (“cannot” in v. 10; “must not” in v. 11; “necessary” and “necessarily” in v.
12; “compelled,” “surely” and “shall be” in v. 13; Alma’s immediately turning in v. 6
might also be productively thought in this light). I think this theme of conditionality vs.
sureness is worth thinking more about, esp. since it seems to take a new twist with the
seed experiment where conditionality is discussed in terms of whether the seed is good
or not….
Regarding Alma stretching forth his arm, I would add that I think that the Book of
Mormon uses this image in a positive manner that is distinct from the way it is (typically)
used in the Bible (Ex 6:7 might be an exception—some time ago, in response to one of
Jim’s Sunday school questions, I posted some more detailed thoughts and x-refs
regarding this at the wiki here).
By calling Alma’s answer a non-response, I didn’t intend to suggest that he simply did
not respond at all. Rather, I meant that he did not respond with what the Zoramites
would have recognized as a response. I can easily imagine someone in the Zoramite
crowd saying, “What in the world is he talking about? This isn’t an answer to our
question.” However at the beginning of chapter 33 we see that they no longer are asking
that question. Their hearts have been changed, probably not the might change that Alma
has experience, but changed enough that they want the seed he has told them of. So, they
ask how to get it. That very question, though, tells Alma that they are in a position to
have their original question answered in a way that they will understand.
In other words, I don’t think there is a disagreement here.
The conditional rhetoric which the Zoramites use compared to the unconditional rhetoric
that Alma uses sets us up to see him as steadfast rather than wavering. It also prepares us
to understand what might be taken for conditional talk when he speaks of the
experiment on the seed is in reality steadfast talk. It is sure.
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Jim, that is a very helpful way of putting things.
Alma 32: 7–13 Summary

June 29, 2008 by jennywebb 
Although the discussion ranged over a variety of topics, I found that many of the
comments centered around one of two themes: language and action. I will highlight what
I found to be the most pertinent thoughts associated with each theme.
Language: The tension between narrative and dialogue brought to the foreground as
Alma begins to speak; the possibility for reading Alma’s words as poetry as he begins his
address; the contrast between conditional and unconditional rhetoric leading to Alma’s
establishment of his words as “steadfast talk.”
Action: Alma’s desire to move the Zoramites into a different world, a new world where
the act of worship can take place; reworking the Zoramite question in terms of sin, where
sin leaves one unable to act and the question thus becomes how can the Zoramites again
be capable of action; the acknowledgment that one cannot work to save oneself;
regarding the act of enduring and its relationship to mercy, two possible actions were
discussed: that we must somehow endure mercy itself, or that we are only able to endure
through the lightness brought to us by mercy.
I would now like to examine how these insights and themes address our key questions.
(1) What does Alma 32 teach us about exercising faith?
Conceptually, the thoughts concerning action (and inaction) seem pertinent here. Of
course, part of this is due to the way the question is framed, with “exercising” appearing
to be a form of “action.” However, if we find our ability to act is stopped by sin, and that
we cannot work to save ourselves, what does this imply about our ability to exercise
faith? Is exercising faith somehow not an action we take, but rather one we receive? In
the face of sin, it seems that I cannot exercise my faith to my own salvation; does it rather,
as Alma describes in verse 13, depend on my choice to seek repentance? If so, it’s
interesting that to exercise faith would then be akin to looking, or casting one’s eyes,
toward repentance, especially as looking often can be accomplished without any bodily
action (other than shifting one’s eyes). Might this be one way to understand having faith
unto repentance—the only course of action opened to us by exercising faith is one in
which we are forced to face our own inadequacy and incompleteness so that we may
then receive the atonement and be healed.
(2) What does Alma mean by “the word” and why is it so central to faith?
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While Alma does not specifically discuss “the word” here, the emphasis on the
importance and power of language throughout these verses present us with an Alma
who is linguistically aware and textually centered. His use of poetic structures and
rhetoric, whether original to the oral discourse or added in his written record, signal an
understanding of words as powerful, crafted, and creative. The very fact that Alma
repeatedly begins to adjust the Zoramites’ world view—he literally wants to shift them
into another world where the possibility for true worship exists—through his words
indicates Alma’s trust and faith in words to provide or promote the conditions that will
lead to spiritual change an growth.
(3) What is meant by the use of the term “experiment” in Alma 32.27?
Verse 27 presents the experiment in terms of a conscious choice to act: “if ye will awake
and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words….” The conditional
“if” allows for the choice not to awake, and not to arouse one’s faculties; it is an
individual choice one is invited to participate in. Thematically, verse 13 prepares the
reader for verse 27 in that verse 13 also centers around an individual choice to act: “a
man sometimes, if he is compelled to be humble, seeketh repentance….” Again, the
conditional “sometimes” and “if” make it clear that seeking repentance is an individual
choice. The surety of mercy resulting from the choice to repent may also be useful for
understanding Alma’s description of the experiment in terms “let[ting] desire work in
you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words”
in that Alma seems to be saying that a similar surety exists in the experiment: those who
choose to act, to take the experiment, may be assured of reaching the point where they
will believe in a manner that allows them to give place to his words.
(4) How might paying close attention to the textual, historical, and political contexts of
Alma 32 (re)shape our understanding of Alma’s treatment of faith?
While this question was addressed most broadly throughout the discussion, I found that
perhaps the more useful comments centered around the textual contexts found in these
verses. For example, the question of tension between narrative and dialogue here brings
up the question of understanding Alma’s discourse on faith and perhaps Mormon’s
understanding (or appropriation?) of that discourse. Are there ways in which the
narrative text reflects a faith in a Christ who has already come and risen versus a faith in
the promise of the Messiah? I don’t know; I haven’t looked for that specifically. But the
very complex textual nuances in this section—poetry, rhetoric, themes of the
Garden/Fall, autobiographical imagery—suggest a carefully crafted text that demands
equally careful reading. Something we all agree on, I’m sure.

5 Responses to “Alma 32: 7–13 Summary”
Sorry, Jenny!
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Bonus Bonus Public Health Announcement: if you didn’t get the chicken pox as a child,
then you’re immune.
Unless you’re me - then you get the chicken pox for two weeks as a 20 year-old
missionary who is then quarantined to his apartment with absolutely nothing to do for the
duration. (I even tried phone tracting. I know, I know . . . )
2. on July 6, 2008 at 11:51 am3 Robert C.
Nice summary, Jenny—thanks.
This is a helpful summary. Just one note.
Jenny writes:
“Regarding the act of enduring and its relationship to mercy, two possible actions
were discussed: that we must somehow endure mercy itself, or that we are only able to
endure through the lightness brought to us by mercy.”
I’d just add that I take these two positions to be identical: what is difficult to endure
about mercy (the fact that I have to give up the fantasy of being self-sufficient and able to
save myself - who can endure this truth about themselves?!) is what holds the promise of
the lightness of mercy (it relieves me of the burden of trying to save myself!).
4. on July 11, 2008 at 3:12 am5 jennywebb
Adam, that’s helpful—thanks. Seeing mercy as that which “relieves me of the burden of
trying to save myself” rather than some type of balm which erases pains works much
better.
Alma 32:14-20
Verses 14-15
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This verse opens with a clear indication of redirection: “And now, as I said unto you . . .
.” The phrase marks both a break in, and return to an earlier part of, the discourse. Since
it is only to the first part of verse 13 that Alma returns, it seems to me that this first part
of the verse suggests that Alma got a bit ahead of himself in the second part of verse 13,
and now he wants to go back and start from the end of the inclusio (of verses 8-13) in a
somewhat more careful manner. Or, in other words, he wants to summarize everything
that fell within the bounds of the inclusio in a single phrase, which he will then take as a
new point of departure.
His way of summarizing verses 8-13 (minus the second half of the last verse, apparently)
is this: “because ye were compelled to be humble ye were blessed.” Alma then sets this
over against another kind of humility: “do ye not suppose that they are more blessed who
truly humble themselves because of the word?” Two humilities, then: “compelled
humility” on the one hand, and “self-humbling humility” on the other hand, which
cannot be disentangled, it would appear, from “the word.”
Indeed, that “the word” appears here is quite significant: though it appears in the
narrative before this point, this is the first time Alma mentions it in his discourse. I find
the textual placement of this “introduction” quite significant: Alma’s discourse begins
with verse 8, which opens an inclusio that concludes with the beginning of verse 13; Alma
then collapses the entire inclusio into a single phrase—this question of compelled
humility—at the beginning of verse 14, in order to set it against a second kind of humility,
one driven by “the word.” Something like the following:
Verse 14a
____________ Verse 14b + = Humility 1 Humility 2
{Verses 8-13}
What can be said, at least in a preliminary way, about these two humilities, or about how
they compare? On the one hand, there is compelled humility, a humility imposed on
one, objectively. On the other hand, there is humbling oneself, a humility that might be said
to be decisive because it is decided, and decidedly subjective. The former results from
something like a master-slave dialectic—or at least, it can result from a master-slave
dialectic: the figure in the position of the slave can seek repentance. The latter, however,
seems to result from something without mastery/slavery: given “the word,” the one who
humbles herself does seek repentance.
Alma seems, then, to sort out a kind of hierarchy here: to stand in the position of the
master is not to be blessed at all; and to stand in the position of the slave is to be blessed;
but to stand in the position of the gifted is to be more or most blessed of all. To see “the
word” as a gift, or as what renders the subjectively humble as the gifted, is to recognize
the fundamental weakness as well as the remarkable strength of the gift: it cannot, by
definition, be mastered, and so it escapes the dominance of the master (hence, its strength);
and then it does not compel the hearer to humility, does not force the hearer into a servile
position, thus escaping the dominion of the slave (hence, its weakness).
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Of course, it seems to me that at least this important question remains: to what extent is it
really possible for compelled humility to result in repentance, etc.? Is there not, in every
instance, a shift from compelled humility to self-humbling, if repentance is to be genuine?
In other words, is it not ultimately some kind of tragedy if one is only compelled to be
humble? Does seeking repentance, even from within compelled humility, not entail some
kind of self-humiliation?
I think it will prove to be the case, in verses 17-18 especially, that compelled humility
must be seen as blessed only in that it opens the possibility of the other kind of humility
happening. That is, I don’t believe, in the end, that eitherhumility leads equally to
repentance. The one can only be said to be blessed in the future anterior: the person
compelled to be humble will have been blessed in that humility once she humbles
herself.
If this is the case, then the two kinds of humility described here are really quite different.
I want to compare their comparison here to Marion’s discussion of boredom over against
the icon (in several places, but primarily in God Without Being). The figure of ennui or of
boredom untiringly smashes, Nietzsche-like,every idol encountered, never giving in to
the temptation to worship. And she does so precisely because she is compelled to do so:
she is honest enough with herself to recognize that every idol is an idol, and so
she knows—indeed,objectively—that she must not give in to the objects before which she
sees the idolaters/ideologues (her masters) bowing down. Over against this, of course, is
the iconic figure—a genuine son/daughter of God in the sense, or almost in the sense, of
Jesus’ being the Son of God—who hears the word, receives the gift without compulsion,
and so receives the subjective power of the gifted.
Marion, not unlike Alma with compelled humility, sees boredom as a good thing: it is at
least (an attempt at) a rejection of mastery. It is helpful philosophically in that it reveals
the possibility of distracting the fold of being, the play of the signifier, etc. But there
remains, nonetheless, so much more, the possibility of being so much more blessed.
Verse 16
Alma now summarizes verses 14-15, much as he earlier (in verse 14a) summarized verses
8-13: “Therefore, blessed are they who humble themselves without being compelled to be
humble.” I want—but will refrain for now from—to dwell at length on this “without,”
this sans with which Alma anticipates Badiou’s “subtractive ontology” as much as
Marion’s Dieu sans l’etre. I’m tempted, moreover, because the logic of this singular
“without” effectively reworks the meaning of the relation between the two humilities:
only one “blessed” (no more “more blessed”) obtains any longer, etc. I refrain, though,
because there is a great deal more happening in this verse than this retroactively
interpretive “without.” (Though I’m quickly convincing myself that I’ll end up writing
my entire paper on this “without” . . . .)
So soon as Alma summarizes the previous two verses, he offers up a reinterpretation of

them in terms of a specific action: “or rather, in other words, blessed is he that believeth
in the word of God, and is baptized without stubbornness of heart, yea, without being
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brought to know the word, or even compelled to know, before they will believe.” This
translation of sorts—of compelled humility into a question of (1) “stubbornness of heart”
and (2) knowledge; and of self-humiliation into a question of (1) believing and (2) being
baptized—deserves some attention.
First, it must be recognized that though baptism intervenes here, it is subtly dismissed at
the same time—not only because it never appears again in ch. 32, but also because it is
the “without” that makes the baptism a question of blessing, not the action itself. Alma
can be seen here to respond (again, but now more definitively?) to the initial question of
the Zoramite poor—“What shall these my brethren do?”—by introducing but then
immediately dismissing thework that supposedly leads to salvation: it is not baptism, but
the “without,” that results in salvation. Or rather, it is baptism without . . ., obedience
without . . . .
I think there is something remarkable in this little formulation, “obedience without . . . .”

It seems to me that it brings together two things that might all too easily be thought
irreconcilable. On the one hand, the “obedience” brings with it the law; and on the other
hand, the “without” brings with it the gift. “Obedience without . . .” is effectively the
reception of the law as a gift, is the Nephite way of worshiping Christ through the law:
the law is at once quite dead and yet made alive, and so one finds grace in obedient
works. (Does this clarification of Alma’s teachings here make it possible to find more
subtle connections between Sherem and Korihor?)
Second, Alma brings up here for the first time in his discourse the faith/knowledge
couple (or, more strictly, the belief/knowledge couple). One must believe without being
brought to know or without being compelled to know.
This last point deserves much attention, but it seems best to me to give it that attention
through Alma’s argumentation in the subsequent two verses.
Verses 17-18
“Yea, there are many who do say . . . .” After “thy brother hath said” and “but I say unto
you,” Alma introduces a third party, this time an entire group: “many who do say.”
There might be ways of identifying whom Alma has in mind here, but I’m not sure it
really matters. What does seem significant, though, is that there is something very
concrete about this “many who do say”: they are clearly a collective, many who are
gathered up into a we, and they clearly call into question a sort of radically singular,
radically subjective individual (“If thou wilt . . .”). This concretion is interesting because
Alma will shift abruptly to the abstract theoretical in verse 18 with his question about
definitions. But then, as Lacan says, the most particular case is the most universal.
If thou wilt show unto us a sign from heaven . . . .” The singularly subjective “thou” who
dares to have faith is questioned by the herd, the latter guided as always by knowledge.
(I’m thinking of Edmund in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, when he tells Lucy, in
order not to be questioned about his obviously made-up claim, “Everyone knows it. Ask
anyone you like.” Can faith only be questioned by the collective?) What is so fascinating
about the request for a sign is that it implicitly—perhaps almost unwillingly—recognizes
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the power of faith. That is, even as the crowd, pleading for a sign, dismisses the content of
the subject’s faith, the very petition for a sign recognizes what faith is: namely, trust in
and radical fidelity to something supplementary to the encyclopedia of knowledge. Or,
in other words, the herd implicitly recognizes that faith has the very real potential to
disrupt and recast the entirety of what is known, and the request for a sign is an attempt
to force the faithful to force that change: “If there is indeed a supplement, let’s
see you supplement the situation with a sign.” (An interesting bit of word choice
highlights this recognition: the singular subject of faith is attributed a will [“If thou wilt”],
while the would-be knowers are not [“then we shall”].) Of course, the showing of a sign
never works, because—as we’ve talked about before—the slipperiness of the sign gives
the herd a way out. That is, even as the position of the request recognizes implicitly the
power of faith, the request is presented in such a way that that power, were it to be
revealed in an outward manifestation, could still to be denied.
”then we shall know of a surety . . . .” This phrase is a bit baffling. Is the surety to be tied to
the “from heaven” of the previous phrase, or simply to the sign itself, or to something
else entirely? And why does Alma never contest this point? That is, if the herd demands
a sign in part because its slipperiness will leave them with a way out, then why does
Alma not contest the surety they claim they will have? That Alma goes in a different
direction is of some significance, I think. Of course, one could just as well point to a
disingenuousness on the part of the crowd: though they well know that they will know
nothing more when the sign is given than they already do, their making this a question
of “a surety” is a way of further enticing the faithful to give in. Much more important
though: how should we understand the phrase “know of a surety”? The locution “know
of” is common enough in the Book of Mormon, but it generally (always?) points to
a source of knowledge: one “knows (this or that thing) of oneself” or “knows (this or that
thing) of God.” Is the word “surety” here to be taken not as a qualifier of the knowledge
(as if they said “then we shall have a sure knowledge” or “then we shall know surely”)
but as a qualification of the sign (the sign is the surety, and their knowledge is derived
from that surety? (The OED lists as one of the definitions of “surety”: “A formal
engagement entered into, a pledge, bond, guarantee, or security given for the fulfillment
of an undertaking.” Of course, at the same time, the phrase appears in the Bible, as in
Genesis 15:13. There is a translation of an emphatic double in the Hebrew: “knowing
know” or “know knowing” it could be translated.)
”then we shall believe.” This point is the key to what Alma does in the next verse: the herd
displaces belief until after knowledge. I’ll take this up in the following verse.
”Now I ask, is this faith? Behold, I say unto you, Nay . . . .” Alma turns to questions of
definition, hence, of universal reason. It is a subtle, but an important, move: Alma’s
response meets up with the assumptions of the herd. But his reasoning is what is most
important here.
”for if a man knoweth a thing he hath no cause to believe, for he knoweth it.” There is so much
happening in this little argumentative phrase! Three major questions: (1) Why “a thing”?
What does it mean to know “a thing”? (2) What can be said about the phrase “cause to
believe”? Perhaps especially in light of Adam’s insight about the connection between
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belief and desire in ch. 30: belief/desire cannot be disentangled from a cause? (3) Most
importantly, what does all of this imply about the relationship between faith and knowledge? I’m
not entirely sure I want to provide any kind of answer to these three questions. Yes, let
me just stage them so that we can discuss them together, hopefully at some length! In
fact, I’ll even bracket my comments on verses 19-20, since they seem to me to be more or
less an aside. Let me scand this session by stopping on these three questions: “A thing”?
“Cause to believe”? Faith and knowledge?
Verses 19-20
After all of the complexities of the above, Alma asks a question, refuses to answer it
himself, provides a bit of clue, and then makes the same move he did in verse 14,
essentially suggesting that he had gotten a bit beyond himself and so returns to the
question raised in verse 18.
The question Alma raises is pertinent, though: “how much more cursed . . . ?” meets up
with the question of the “more blessed” of verse 13. Interestingly, in both instances
where Alma begins to deal with a logic of comparison, he ends up canceling the move
with an “And now as I said . . . .” Why?
In this case, though, things are a bit different: he introduces the logic of comparison, but
leaves it entirely as a question, lays the burden of the question on his hearers, and then
provides this strange clue: “it is on the one hand even as it is on the other; and it shall be
unto every man according to his work.” What is going on here?]

1. on June 29, 2008 at 7:14 pm1 juliemariesmith
“What is so fascinating about the request for a sign is that it implicitly—perhaps almost
unwillingly—recognizes the power of faith.”
This is a really great insight; thanks.
As for v19: I’m way out of my depth talking about text critical issues for the BoM, but I’m
not going to let that stop me! I’m pretty sure that the “how much more” in v19 is a qal
wahomer, which is a type of logical argument that would have been common and
familiar to the world of the Bible. There are NT examples aplenty (see, e.g., Romans 5:9,
10, 15, 17, 20; Luke 12:24, 28; Romans 11:24; 2 Cor 3:9, 11 and many others). I’m
wondering if our scribe here didn’t recognize the qal wahomer and translated as a
question what should have been a statement.
My next question concerns the beginning of v20: does “Now of this thing ye must judge”
invite judging v19 or the rest of v20? I’m not sure.
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But what we decide about punctuating v19 and what we should be judging will
definitely affect how we understand the argument in this passage.

Julie,
Thanks for your comments here. For what it’s worth, the original manuscript has almost
no punctuation. Alma 32:19 reads thus on the recto of page 285′ of that manuscript (from
the fragment once owned by Franklin Richards):
[line 22] . . . & now how much more cursed {i}s
[line 23] he that knoweth the will of God & doeth it not then h{e} that only
believe{st|th}or
[line24] only hath cause to {r|b}{e}lieve [&] falleth into trans{g}ression now of this thing
ye
[line 25] must judge behold I say . . .
The key to the symbols above:
{x} x has been partially overwritten by x
{x|y} x has been overwritten by y
[x] x is partially legible
Joe, some quick thoughts to keep the conversation moving:
(1) Previously, I would’ve read “thing” as equivalent to a kind of proposition. But now,
esp. with your drawing attention to it, I’d be inclined to think of “thing” as some
more real (in my vague and probably-mistaken understanding of what Lacan means by
“real”: something that is pre- or trans-linguistic, in contrast to a proposition which is
detached from what is real). Actually, I suppose I have in mind by “real” something
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more like “existential experience” here, so I’m reading Alma as saying that once an
experience is had, then we can know that experience. Belief, in contrast, is something that
necessarily precedes experience. In this sense, a proposition would seem more similar to
what Alma means by belief than knowledge, and—since I’m obsessing about
propositions now—propositions can never be known because they are ontologically
distinct from knowledge. My thoughts aren’t coming out very clear (b/c they aren’t very
clear in my own head yet), so let me vaguely allude to a distinction Marion seems to be
getting at in The Erotic Phenomenon regarding possibility and an ontology of presence:
knowledge is bound to an ontology of presence (and “thing” seems to be bound to this
realm) whereas belief pertains to what precedes (or transcends) an ontology of presence.
(2) I need to go back and reread Adam’s comment b/c I don’t think I follow the
connection you’re suggesting here. I am, however, very, very interested in this phrase,
“cause to believe.” The idea seems to me to be parallel in the comparison with the seed to
the growth of the seed (before it sprouts) that increases faith. This could be taken as
analogous to the idea of corroborating evidence of a hypothesis in the scientific method.
Is this a good way to read this? What does it bring to light and what does it obscure?
I think the common use of the term “cause” as “believing in a cause” is an interesting
connotation to think about here. I think this is the sense in which you, Joe, mean the last
part of your question, but, again, I’m not clear on what Adam meant and hence on what
you have in mind with your question.
I will say, however, that I think this will become an esp. interesting and important issue
when we get to the “desire to believe” bit later. What is crucial, it seems, is a desire to
believe, and I think this might profitably be thought in terms of hope in other scriptural
passages. What is intriguingly not discussed in this chapter is where this desire(/hope)
comes from (and so I wonder to what extent the questions-in-reponse at the beginning of
chapter 33 might be thought as asking this question as to where this desire comes
from…).
(3) It seems to me that the most obvious answer, to put it simply, is that faith precedes
knowledge. What’s wrong and/or incomplete about this answer? I’m inclined to read the
last part of this chapter as emphasizing the sense in which faith is continually needed as
knowledge is obtained (at least until the fruit is obtained, which I’m inclined to read
eschatologically and not really relevant to the here and now of existence, at least for most
of us…)—that is, we can obtain knowledge of certain, limited experiences as we have
them, but faith is what is needed for the tree to continue to grow.
(Joe, please take these dashed off comments as an open invitation/excuse to elaborate on
your thinking on all of this, since it seems you have many more thoughts than you
expressed.)
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In response to Robert’s (1):
I’d be interested to see you work through your thoughts more thoroughly, but as I began
taking a look at verse 21 this morning, I find myself with new ways to think about the
word “thing.” There, things are quite definitely a question of knowledge, indeed, of
“perfect knowledge.” Would it be best to see “things” as facts, quite simply put?
Here’s Adam’s earlier insight (from our first week):
“I think that vs. 9 offers an interesting take on the meaning of belief that may be helpful
in working out the meaning of faith and/or belief in Alma 32. Here, the “or rather” of the
verse pretty explicitly defines “believing in God” as the “desire to serve God.”
“It interests me that this parallelism casts belief in terms of desire rather than knowledge
or evidence. We “believe” to the extent that we “desire.” Here, one could “know”
without “believing” what one knows. (Or, perhaps more interestingly, one might
“believe” with certainty what one doesn’t “know” objectively because belief would
fundamentally be a question about the certainty of one’s desire?) In this context, it might
make sense that Korihor can both say that that he doesn’t “believe in God” (see vs. 37-38)
and that he “always knew there was a God” (vs. 52).”
I think this is a very helpful insight, if we intertwine it with the question of cause here:
desire has a cause/belief has a cause. I’m intrigued by the Lacanian meaning this might
have, but wondering about how that might just as equally be a way of keeping us from
recognizing what Alma’s saying.
Is it so simple? It seems quite clear that faith as such cannot come after knowledge, but is
it so clear that it must come before it? That is, must all knowledge be developed from
faith? I’m not sure quite how to think about this yet.
Joe, re (2): Thank you for pasting Adam’s comment here for convenience. I’m not sure if
this was the direction you were thinking, but I can’t help reading “no cause to believe”
now in light of D&C 88:33, “For what doth it profit a man if a gift is bestowed upon him,
and he receive not the gift? Behold, he rejoices not in that which is given unto him,
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neither rejoices in him who is the giver of the gift.” I think I’m mainly restating a point
from Adam’s “Atonement and Testimony” article here, but if something is not believed
in, hoped for, or desired, then it will not be “reojoiced in” or appreciated. Perhaps like
that old primary parable about the kid trying to help the chick out of the egg but
precluding the chick’s muscular development: a sign given but not desired/hoped
for/believed in precludes desiring the ultimate fruit of the tree….
Re (3): Ah, coupled with what I just wrote re (2), I now better appreciate the significance
of thinking about knowledge that comes not as a consequence to faith, but as a sign,
without faith. (And this makes your earlier point relating this to the law without grace
more clear also….)
Re (1): So, following these thoughts re (2) and (3), might we think of (factual) experience
as being fruitless experiences devoid of meaning and sign-ificance (empty signifiers?)?
Hmmm, I think I’m catching your drift finally (and now I can begin to really start
thinking about this!).
6. on July 1, 2008 at 2:53 pm6 Adam Miller
Some more comments later.
For now, just a brief thought about Joe’s centering his own comments on the “without” of
v16’s “humility without compulsion”: very productive!
Perhaps we could describe the importance of the “without” this way:
Sinfulness is the attempt to supplement our ongoing weakness/humility with

some thing that will make good the deficiency (some “sign,” e.g. clothes, entrance to the
synagogue, token of divine favor, etc.)
“Compulsion to humility” - the kind of compulsion suffered by the Zoramite poor -

strips us of this supplement, but not necessarily of the desire for it.
“Humility without compulsion” involves a desire to do “without” the attempted

supplementation that is sin.
Righteousness, then, as a proper relation to our existential “without”?
Maybe.
More later.
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7. on July 1, 2008 at 4:56 pm7 joespencer
Very timely, Adam.
I had more or less decided a couple of days ago to write my (eventual) paper on this
“without” and had finally begun to sort out how I wanted to go about it only a few
minutes before reading your comment.
And I very much like what you’ve done here, although: while I think it succinctly
summarizes the meaning of much of Alma’s discourse to the Zoramites thus far, I’m not
exactly sure how it meets up with the three “withouts” of verse 16, which never try to
subtract a supplementary “thing” from faith, but rather try only to subtract compulsion.
Of course, as Hegel made clear long ago, the “thing” or “object” is intimately related to
the relation of compulsion, so it wouldn’t be difficult, I think, to bring your thoughts here
into conversation with my own already-expanding ruminations.
I’ll sketch out an outline of my paper in another comment.
Something of an outline, just scribbled out for now, for a paper on Alma 32:16’s three
“withouts”:
- Alma 32 opens with a question of class struggle, thus inevitably pointing us to Hegel
and the master-slave dialectic
- Blanchot/Derrida formulate this dialectic as a neither/nor in terms of a “without-

structure”: “X without X”
- Alma, however, employs the word “without” in an attempt to distract this (negative)
neither/nor by an (positive) either/or
- Alma employs this “without” in something like the sense Marion does in God Without
Being: “without” points to reduction/subtraction and, hence, to grace
- It is precisely in this way that Kierkegaard’s either/or (or really, his Either/Or) responds
to Hegel’s (retroactively visible) neither/nor
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- The Gift of Death is thus an attempt on Derrida’s part to read the either/or of
grace/works as the neither/nor of death-oriented master/slave relations
- What is called for in Alma 32, then, is a humility without death, a kind of resurrected
humility, which grounds the kind of faith Alma discusses
resurrected humility: Is this not a rather good way to think about the blessed/more blessed
comparison Alma is working with here? When faithful agency distracts the intertwining
of the two figures of compulsion (master/slave), the humility of one of those figures (of
the slave) can be reconfigured after the fact (according to the future anterior): the
slave will have been humble when s/he goes on to humble herself, and so, blessed are
those who are compelled to be humble (that is, the slaves). Resurrected humility, then:
the slave, who is living-for-death (cf. somewhere between Hegel and Heidegger) and so
dead (in the Pauline/Badiouian sense), is resurrected as an agent/subject through the
decision that is faith.
Joe,
Re: comment #7.
I think that the connection between the subtraction of a supplementary thing and the
“without” of the “without compulsion” may be something like this:
The compelled humility reveals that we never had the needed supplementary thing in
the first place.
In this way, faith is fundamentally a decision “to do without,” both in the sense of
“doing” humility without being compelled to do/be it, and in the sense of agreeing “to
do without” the desired supplement of a sign that we imagine might finally plug the
hole.
Though reading back over this, I’m not sure it answers your question :)
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Re: comment #8.
I think you have something interesting here, Joe. Can you express it without the
shorthand of philosophical indexing?
12. on July 1, 2008 at 7:21 pm12 Robert C.
I can’t remember how the above comments sparked this thought, but I’ve been thinking
about these verses now in terms of what strikes me as a very Mormon-specific kind of
neurosis: working toward a cause you don’t really believe in. For example, doing your
home- or visiting-teaching begrudgingly. (I also have the cultural reception of
Robinson’s Believing Christ in mind here….) So, compelled humility is like knowledge
that is not believed in, or like following the law in action, pharisaically, without it being
inscribed in one’s heart. (Also, it seems this could be productively described in
Badiouian/Lacanian terms: a kind of impure or neurotic fidelity to an event….)
Also, a question: Joe made a point of emphasizing Alma’s declaration to Korhior in Alma
30:39, “I know there is a God, and also that Christ shall come.” How should this previous,
rather emphatic declaration of knowledge (and the belief-knowledge play throughout vv.
39-42) that we’ve talked about previously, be thought in light of 32:14ff? I’m esp.
interested in hearing Adam’s thoughts on this b/c it seems that Alma’s declared
knowledge that Christ should come in ch. 30 is something rather propositional and
transcendent rather than something merely immanent. The reason I see this as relevant to
these verses (14-20) is because I think it affects how we read the phrase “know the word”
in v. 16—whether we know (or believe) the word itself is (immanently) good, or whether
we infer that the (propositional) content of the word is (transcendently) good. Also, to
relate this to Joe’s question above about what “thing” refers to in v. 18, it seems that
Alma’s testimony to Korihor suggests that “that Christ shall come” is an example of one
of these things.
Writing without indexing? Uh oh.
And you ask it of a library science student, nonetheless! :)
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More seriously, though: I index in this case (in all cases?) because I plan to use these
thinkers as a kind of pathway through which to work out the meaning of humility/faith.
I imagine that I will use Derrida/Blanchot as “authorities” on Hegel, set up the Hegelian-
Kierkegaardian distinction much more overtly, and cite Marion(/Badiou) as providing a
helpful way of seeing why Kierkegaard may be onto something.
I hope the names play far less a role in whatever I work out than does the text!
14. on July 1, 2008 at 10:57 pm14 jennywebb
Joe, lots to think about as usual. Thanks.
1) Re: Joe’s description of the second humility: “On the other hand, there is humbling
oneself, a humility that might be said to be decisive because it is decided, and decidedly
subjective.” I can’t help but think of this in terms of Eden and the Fall—in other words,
the humility that leads to being “much more blessed” is the result of a choice to humble
oneself. And it’s interesting that Alma seems to construct the situation so that there are
(only) two choices: be compelled to be humble, or humble yourself (there doesn’t seem to
be a way to escape humility). The Fall, of course, shares a similar structure centered
around two choices, and Alma has earlier demonstrated his understanding of the Fall in
that way (Alma 12, which begins its resolution with a God who gives knowledge
according to faith [v.30] and sets the stage for ch. 13, a chapter devoted to exploring
“exceeding faith”).
2) Re: vs. 19-20, here’s one possible way to read what’s going on. In 19, it seems like Alma
is asking “who’s more cursed? The one who knows and refuses to act, or the one who
believes and ‘falls into transgression’”? In 20, then, he asks for a decision or judgment as
to which situation is worse, and then Alma essentially answers his own question by
saying the two possibilities are equal, and that as such, every one will be judged
individually “according to his work.” (Final Fall sidenote: the two situations in v. 19
present two ways of reading Adam/Eve in the Garden—they can either know how
things will work out if they eat the fruit and, to avoid death, refuse to act, or, they can
believe that things will work out if they eat the fruit, and thus “fall into transgression.”
Sorry—it’s just been on my mind lately so I see it everywhere.)
Jenny, your ideas about Eden fascinate me—I hope you’ll (continue to) elaborate on
them. Also, very nice insight regarding the “doeth it not” wording in a contrastive
parallel to “falleth into transgression” in v. 19.
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I’m very fascinated with the “only believeth” in v. 19 since this seems to set up a kind of
rank order between faith and knowledge so that faith is more desirable than knowledge.
Later in the chapter, it seems there are many places where Alma seems to deemphasize
knowledge in order to emphasize the importance of faith. But this is all too sloppy: it’s
wrong to think in terms of one being “more important” than the other; rather, it seems
that for Alma they are both indispensable, and that faith indeed leads to knowledge so
that knowledge is the “fruit” of faith….
I’m inclined (drawing esp. on Adam’s previous comments on desire) to read v. 20

differently than Jenny. Rather than the two possibilities being equal, I think Alma is
contrasting them: to have knowledge and not act is essentially a situation of despair,
whereas to have belief (which presumes desire) and to fall into transgression is not a
situation of despair since the presumed desire can have the effect of pulling one out of
transgression. I’m reading “knoweth the will of God” in v. 19 not in terms of what we’d
nowdays call “merely intellectual knowledge,” but more along the lines of (1) what in
Mormonism we talk about in terms of what qualifies for the sin of denying the Holy
Ghost and (2) feeling/experiencing God’s love and, in that same moment, rejecting it. (I
don’t mean to reduce this verse to a traditional folk belief; rather, I’m trying to invoke
these folk beliefs simply as a kind of short-hand to explain how I’m coming to such a
different reading than Jenny….) This is only flimsy “evidence,” but I think it’s also worth
noting that this mode of expression, “on the one hand” is also used in 1 Ne 14:7 and 3 Ne
26:5 (see also Alma 41:4 and 52:31) in a contrasting rather than equating way (though the
“even as it is” phrase is not used in these other cases…).
A couple of thoughts:
1. It seems to me that in Alma 32 “faith” is generally synonymous with “belief.”

As in v18: “is this faith? . . . nay; for if a man knoweth a thing he hath no cause to
believe.”
2. If so, then v16 may contain the entire chapter’s most direct and explicit definition of
faith, as indicated by the use of the equivalence “. . . or rather, in other words . . .”
“blessed are they who humble themselves without being compelled to be humble
or rather, in other words
blessed is he that believeth in the word of God”
The explicit definition of faith then being: faith = humility without compulsion.
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3. It seems likely that it will be important to come to some consensus about what might
be meant by “knowing” in Alma 32.
The context seems largely negative in v16-19 in the association of “knowing” with
“compulsion” and with “signs,” but the context seems largely positive later in v34.
Does the positive or negative evaluation of “knowing” depend on its temporal relation to
faith? v16 seems to emphasize that the blessedness of faith is related to their not being
“compelled to know, before they will believe.”
So, if you believe then acquire knowledge, this is good? But if you must know
before believing, this is bad?
At any rate, what are talking about here? What kind of epistemology are we looking at?
Is “knowing” something empirical? Something mystical? Something inductive?
Something deductive? Something likely? Something certain? Something that is grounded
in the “surety” of a manifest sign - signs being either positive or negative depending on
their temporal relation to faith; that is, depending on whether they come before or after
belief?
Jenny, I think this goes in a different direction than the way you’ve been thinking about
this (though there’s a good chance I’ve misremembered/misread you), but the following
thought came to me with some force this morning:
Adam and Eve’s partaking/stealing (Joe’s mentioned this connotation in the Hebrew
before) knowledge (or fruit of the tree of knowledge) is essentially the same problem
with sign-seeking which is an attempt to “steal” knowledge by trying to avoid paying the
price of faith for that knowledge….
(This economic way of thinking about these parallels came to me while reading about
usury and Aquinas’s discussion of avarice as a specific and general sin which seems to
have interesting parallel with the Mormon notion of keeping desires within the bounds
the Lord has set. Stephen Long, in Calculated Futures: Theology, Ethics and
Economics quotes Alisdair MacIntyre as arguing that this is the fundamental problem of
capitalism, and also inherent in most forms of socialism, an unlimited/unbounded desire
for gain. A fundamental axiom in modern economics is that more wealth is always
preferred to less wealth. Calvin’s argument that mutual beneficial exchange shouldn’t be
a sin—an argument that was crucial in doing away w/ usury prohibitions—implicitly
assumes that more wealth/knowledge is always preferable to less wealth/knowledge.
Alma is contesting this idea: knowledge cannot be approached as merely an end—what
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is important is the means by which knowledge is approached/obtained. So Alma is
following the logic of Jacob 2:19: obtaining money or knowledge is a good thing, but only
if it is obtained for the intent of doing good. Also, it was in contrasting this idea
infinite/unbounded desire for knowledge or wealth with the “everlasting life” idea of
infinity at the end of Alma 32 that helped spark this train of thoughts….)
Adam, I think you are getting us to the questions we need to ask.
I pointed out in an earlier comment: “It seems quite clear that faith as such cannot come
after knowledge, but is it so clear that it must come before it?”
I think this is an important question. I’m not sure I can make any sense of the claim
that all knowledge should—let alone can—follow from faith. Would it indeed be possible
to speak of faith without there being knowledge first?
Faith might then be said to come between knowledge and knowledge, between what you
have (quite revealingly) called negative and positive knowledge. One begins with
negative knowledge, with the idea that certain things cannot be known (cf. Korihor); or
one begins with knowledge that is predicated entirely on negation (on the “No!” of the
father, of the Father in Eden?). If, as both the writer of Proverbs and Hegel have taught
us, the fear of the lord/Lord is the beginning of wisdom/knowledge, then knowledge is always a
question of compulsion and hence of nay-saying, of negative commandment, etc.
But that is only how it begins: if faith can get us out of the relationship of compulsion,
then it is possible to begin to build—through a process or procedure—a truth that we
may know positively. Knowledge itself can be taken from the relationship of compulsion,
but only thanks to faith: because this kind of knowledge is only worked out through a
process—because there is some kind of mediating work to be undertaken by an agent—
this knowledge is not compulsory, but something one comes to know willingly.
What all of this means for the paper I’ve sketched out is this: to clarify the “without” of
Alma 32:16 is to clarify the relationship between the first, negative version of knowledge
and faith. I would have to leave to others the task of working out the positive meaning of
knowledge developed later in the chapter.
Joe,
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I like this suggestion: that the problem is not with knowledge, but with our relationship
to that knowledge - the aim of faith being a transformation of that relationship from one
of compulsion to one of active, subjective collaboration.
Could we understand the “perfection” of knowledge to be its liberation from

compulsion?
I think that’s right, but the problem is that “liberation” here can take two very different
meanings. The slave can be liberated through his/her violent murder of the master, or
the slave can be liberated through the master’s graceful adoption of him/her as a
son/daughter. The trick, of course, is that murder is never final: one remains haunted
and finds oneself murdering the same master forever. True liberation, then, must come
through adoption—which amounts to a reconfiguration of the compulsion on the part of
the compelled.
Or something along those lines.
I like Joe’s ideas in #18 and Adam’s restatement in #19—if our relationship to knowledge
is problematic, and faith transforms that relationship “to one of active, subjective
collaboration,” is this another way of saying faith enables us to have a relationship with
(the) words? A relationship of/in dialogue?
Another model might be to look at faith and knowledge as two members of the same
genre: understanding. I think it’s Ricouer who at one point formulates a dialectic
between understanding and experience, where Understanding : Experience :
Understanding (I’m sure there’s a better/more official way to write out a dialectic, but I
don’t know it, sorry). Anyway, it might be useful to think of faith and knowledge as the
two poles of the dialectic; the experience that Alma is aiming for in this particular case is
the experiment. I’m not sure the text supports this model completely because I see it as
circular rather than linear. How committed is Alma to a linear/temporal relationship
between faith and knowledge?
Re: Adam #16. I think your final point is important. How we understand knowledge will
affect how we understand faith, and of the two, it seems like knowledge ought to be the
one we’re better acquainted with given the point of our mortal experience.
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V16 says that one is blessed for believing and being baptized “without being brought to
know the word, or even compelled to know, before they will believe.” While the greater
blessing comes from belief without compulsion, notice that in constructing the sentence
this way Alma also says that belief can (and will?) follow knowledge, even compelled
knowledge. “They will believe” at some point—what matters is what happens before
they believe (are they compelled, or do they choose). The question isn’t whether one will
believe, but how one chooses to reach that belief.
Robert, I found your comments in #15 interesting, in part because I’m not happy with the
way I read 19-20 and I’m happy to have an alternative. Also, #17 was extremely
helpful—thank you.
Jenny, I think you’re quite right to be looking at the relationship between faith (as such)
and knowledge (as such) to be—ideally—dialectical. But I think it is vital to note at the
same time that the particular content of one’s faith (at any given point) and the particular
content of one’s knowledge (at any given point) will not be dialectical: the internal
content of a given encyclopedia of knowledge can certainly develop itself dialectically
(Hegel’s Encyclopedia is perhaps evidence enough of that, but any encyclopedia’s cross-
referencing system—from Diderot onward—confirms the point), but the intervention of
faith wagers an event who content is anti-dialectical with respect to the then-current
content of the encyclopedia of knowledge. (Indeed, I think Badiou’s model of the
relationship between fidelity and knowledge is so provocative precisely because it finds
in the disconnect of this anti-dialectic the possibility of locating a subject that is not
infinitely disseminated. And that localization in turn allows for the infinite thought of
sexual difference and hence of love.)
Did any of that make sense?
Joe (#22), I see what you’re saying, but I’m not sure I understand what Alma is saying :)
Do you see Alma promoting an event-based model of faith and knowledge here? Maybe
the absence of stubbornness/compulsion is required to receive/perceive the event? In
comment 22, you seem to imply two types of faith and knowledge: the particular
(individual) and the universal (general). Is Alma’s discourse here particular, universal, or
both? I think if one can argue for the particular, that might make an evental
understanding of faith possible.
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Jenny, I’ll grapple with the bulkier part of your comment tomorrow when I’ve got a bit of
time, but for now, I will say that I see Alma arguing for an event-based faith here,
primarily in light of verse 23: “And now, he imparteth his word by angels unto men, yea,
not only men but women also,” etc. Each angelic deliverance of the word must be
regarded as an event (an event within an event, within, namely, Adam-ondi-Ahman?),
and to have faith is to work out one’s fidelity to that angelic encounter. (By the way, I
think Alma’s speeches open up the possibility of understanding “angel” to be a title and
not a type of being, such that Alma and the sons of Mosiah function, in BoM terms, as
angels, etc.)
It is in light of this, also, that the play between word (singular) and words (plural) will
prove to be interesting in this chapter.
Joe and Jenny, I think the seed analogy (again) gives us an interesting way to think about
these evental and dialectical issues. It seems to me that there’s very much an evental
aspect to the arrival of the seed/word itself, but once it’s given, it’s growth is made
possible through what might be described as a reciprocal(/dialectical) relationship (with
the nourishing soil, though its the goodness/grace of the seed that grows…).
My apologies for not chiming in sooner. I’m impressed with everyone else’s ability to do
so much. What you get, therefore, are non-systematic notes in response to Joe’s post and
your responses.
My first thought as I reread the verses and read Joe’s commentary was that I could write
a Sacrament talk about compelled humility and humbling oneself. However, instead of
using the usual means of being compelled to illustrate my remarks, I would use the
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commandments: some obey because they are threatened with punishment if they don’t;
others obey because they are humble.
In spite of that, I have a major problem with the discussion: I don’t know how to answer
Joe’s question about whether repentance eventually always requires self-humbling. I
think I disagree that it does. I think of the time in my life when I was the most humble
I’ve ever been. It was enforced on me, draconianly and with great power. Not all
enforced humility is like the nagging home teaching supervisor or the commands
accompanied by threatened punishments. In fact, in the very case we are discussing, the
humility is enforced very differently, by a much harsher master, namely poverty and
social exclusion. The saints I worked with in pre-“economic miracle” Korea were
incredibly humble, humbled however by their extreme poverty. I knew no one who
owned a car. I knew families who had to take turns going to meetings on Sunday because
it cost 5 cents to ride the bus there. I knew very few who had a job or prospects for one.
Most sewers were open. Most people went hungry part of each year. All the people
whom I came in contact were, consequently, humble. But I do not think that there was
anything suspect about that humility. Perhaps it would have been better had they been
humbled in some other way, but it doesn’t follow that their enforced humility was not
genuine nor unproductive of true repentance.
In my own case: at the depths of my humility, I wasn’t self-humbled, but I was absolutely
humbled. Death seemed almost preferable to the state I was in. I saw no escape from my
situation, only the prospect of it getting worse, of my life and family being permanently
ruined at the hands of power and force over which I had no control. Yet I think that I
have never been closer to the Spirit than during that time. I doubt that I could have
humbled myself as much as my circumstances did. Truthfully, I can say that I know I
could not have done it. Doesn’t the argument that Joe, Robert, and Adam seem to me to
be making (and perhaps I have misunderstood) conclude that the closeness to the Spirit I
felt at that time, the repentance I went through—the faith that I exercised in response to
that humbling, a faith that grew considerably as a result—was not authentic? If so, then I
have to disagree strongly.
In other words, I don’t know what to make of Alma’s “without” nor with the previous
discussion of it.
Am I not, as a result of this difference, also disagreeing with the whole discussion of faith
and the gift? Why would not the faith obtained by enforced humility not be a gift? To this
day I do not, in fact cannot, rejoice in the humbling that I endured, though I am glad to
have its fruits. Perhaps someday I will be able to get beyond that contradiction—rejoicing
in the fruits and unable to rejoice in that which brought them—but not yet.
It may be that everything that several of you suggest in this discussion is right and the
implication is that it would be better had I not had to have been humbled. (I certainly
wish I had not had the experience.) In other words, it may be that my faith is still
immature, not yet genuine. I’m willing to accept that, but not without questioning it.
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New topics; enough of the disagreement: Isn’t the difference between Marion’s analysis
of ennui and Alma’s discussion of boredom at least that ennui is not enforced on one? If
so, then the parallel seems to fade.
I like Joe’s point that in verse 16 Alma makes clear what he means by “being humbled”
when he creates a parallel between humbling oneself without being compelled, on the
one hand, and believing in the word of God and being baptized without stubbornness of
heart, on the other. Without may be the key here after all. I think I can say that without
necessarily taking the argument as far as it has gone. In fact, perhaps by making the
parallel Alma is restricting in some way what he means by “being compelled to be
humble.”
Like others, I appreciated the insight that the demand for a sign (at least in this form)
implicitly recognizes the power of faith.
And Julie must be right: the “how much more” is an argument “from the lesser to the
greater,” a common form of argument at least by the 1st century and probably much
earlier.
I can see why we might want to connect “cause to believe” with “believing in a cause,”
but I think that is a mistake, though only a small one. According to the OED, since at
least 320 CE one of the meanings of “cause” has been “a fact, condition of matters, or
consideration, moving a person to action.” That seems to be its straightforward sense
here.
“Thing” is very interesting. Like “cause” it originally meant a law suit or a court, and
then a meeting or the business which the meeting took up. (The OED again.)
Joe, Adam makes an important point when he asks whether you can express your insight
without philosophical indexing. Your paper will be much more successful, because it will
be more accessible, if you can—even if you are a library scientist (is that a term?).
Jenny, like Robert, I have questions about the way you read the Adam and Eve story. I
wonder whether it is true that Adam and Eve chose to humble themselves. I don’t see the
Fall that way. In fact, it seems to me that the one option that Adam and Eve did not take
was to ask the Father what they should do about the contradiction between the two
commandments. They didn’t work it out themselves. They didn’t ask the divine
Authority. They just believed Satan and acted accordingly. (In other words, though
the culpa was felix—because of God’s providential planning—Adam and Eve may have
made a mistake. Adam’s shame and his attempt to blame things on Eve, her attempt to
blame the servant, the necessity of later being forgiven: these sorts of things suggest that
something went wrong. Perhaps they ate the fruit trusting that things would work out,
but I don’t see that in any of the versions we have of the story.)
I like Adam’s question about the relation of faith and knowledge. Clearly that question is
at the heart of Alma’s sermon. And Joe’s revision of the question is excellent: What is our
relation to knowledge?
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I think that covers most of my responses, so I’ll quite before this becomes not only too
late, but too long.
Perhaps, Jim, the key is v13’s “for a man sometimes, if he is compelled to be humble,
seeketh repentance . . .”
Even in one’s extremity, it seems always possible to choose bitterness and resentment
rather than humility.
Also, your comment raises an important question about what it would mean to be
humble “without compulsion”: how humble is a chosen humility after all? Wouldn’t an
un-compelled humility involve the same kind of paradox manifest in a “humble
declaration” of one’s own humility - because if you recognize the greatness of your own
humility then, in an important sense, you may no longer be very humble!
In other words: Does it count as “humility” if we have “humbled ourselves“? Doesn’t the
interposition of the “self” here undermine the “humility”?
Perhaps we have to read two “compulsions” at work in v13-16, the second of which gets
elided in contrast with the first:
1. there are those who are compelled to be humble because of their exceeding poverty
and
2. there are those who are compelled to be humble because of the word
In both cases, humility is necessarily compelled (cf. v12), but the difference between the
first and second cases is the difference between being compelled to recognize our
compelled humility and just plain recognizing our compelled humility?
PS I’m working on this week’s post, but may not have it up until this afternoon.
Adam, your response to Jim’s question reminds me of a question that Matthew Faulconer
raised some time ago at the wiki. Consider verse 16:
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in other words, blessed is he that believeth in the word of God, and is baptized without
stubbornness of heart, yea, without being brought to know the word, or even compelled
to know, before they will believe.
The “or even” phrase I italicized is what seems awkward and strange. It would seem
more natural to put the “compelled to know” phrase first, and then say “or even brought
to know” next, going from the (seemingly) stronger condition to the (seemingly) weaker
condition so that “or even” emphasizes the weaker sense of the second condition (which
would seem to be “being brought” instead of “being compelled”). But is this
“strangeness” suggesting precisely what Adam is saying, that being “compelled to
know” is actually a weaker condition than “being brought to know” (i.e., the word itself
can compel us to be humble, whereas “being brought to know” connotes some sort of non-
linguistic circumstance like poverty)??
Also, should we read this as implicitly including the “without being,” as in “or even
[without being] compelled to know”?
Jim, thanks for all these thoughts and responses. I’ll add my own brief response to your
overarching concern to Adam’s.
It seems to me that the “future anterior” might be a big help here. The “lesser” humility
here only will have been humility in that it leads to the “greater” humility. Which is to say
that I don’t see two categories of humility at all here; rather two ways that “genuine”
humility can come about. On the one hand, one can simply humble oneself because of the
word (I’m less perplexed by the “self” of self-humbling than Adam is…), or, one can
humble oneself because of the word after/through being “humbled” by circumstances.
The latter case is, as Adam says, qualified by the “sometimes” because it is quite as
possible that one becomes infinitely proud under difficult circumstances as it is that one
becomes “genuinely” humble.
In fact, I’m not entirely sure I see Alma arguing that it is at all possible to “humble
oneself” purely, that is, without first being compelled to be humble. (Or rather, if
he is arguing that, I think I want to take issue with it.) Could his “more blessed” be a
description of a hypothetical situation that never (or at leastalmost never) occurs? And
one’s compelled humility will have been the case, will be retroactively constructed by its
leading essentially to something like that hypothetical situation (”tainted” though the
pathway might seem to be)?
To translate this into the terms of the experience you mention from your own life: I think
you did humble yourself because of the word. It seems to me that your genuine humility
and your closeness to the Spirit during the experience means that you saw the compulsion
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exercised AS the word. Could it be that theonly pathway to “genuine” humility (self-
humbling) is through this “inauthentic” humility (compulsion to be humble)?
I’m not convinced I said any of that very clearly. But hopefully….
In the meanwhile, I’ll be attempting to write up a summary of all of this today, and I’ll
have to sort out ways to think about all of this.
(I have, by the way, begun to work out a non-indexing version of the paper idea… hard
as it is for me to do that. :) )
Jenny: now in response to your #23’s question of particularity vs. generality.

I think you’ve actually grasped what I was saying quite nicely. The event disrupts the
dialectical play between faith and knowledge only in the particular… in fact, in the
singular or in the singularity of an event. But no general “eventness” could ground some
kind of unspecified “fidelity” such that it relates to universal “knowledge.” It is the
singularity of the event precisely that gives one’s singular fidelity an anti-dialectical
relationship to universal knowledge, such that the latter is entirely recoded and
classified. It is then only as we attempt to look at the historical development of
knowledge with all of its changes over the years, etc., that we can begin to talk about
something like a dialectical relationship between knowledge (in general) and faith (in
general), between the many different editions of the encyclopedia over the years and the
many different subjective fidelities that have been tied to so many different singular
events.
As such, as you rightly point out, it is only with the singularity of faith that the event can
at all enter into the model, and that is precisely what I see happening in Alma 32.
Jim,
Thinking further about these issues, I think it might be helpful, briefly, to put this in
terms of verses 13-16 as a text.
In verse 13, Alma introduces the “lesser” humility, calling those compelled to be humble
“blessed” because they sometimes seek repentance, etc. This is, I think, simply part of the
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way things are: the master-slave dialectic that is history results in slaves/the
compelled/the compelled to be humble.
Verse 14 introduces the “greater” humility, which might (as I’ve suggested above) be
taken as hypothetical, a kind of limit case. This would not be, I think, a part of the way
things are: the very arrival of the word (with an angel, according to verse 23) is
supplementary to the dialectical history of the world, and it is thus a kind of
impossibility. That is, the word might be said to go unheard necessarily in the din of
history as polemos.
Verse 15 dares to bring these two humilities together: the one is “lesser,” the other
“greater.”
And then verse 16 arranges them in the “without” structure: the one has eventually to
reconfigure the other. The “without” is profound precisely because it allows both kinds
of humility to come together in an equation, even as one is suppressed or dismissed (note
that the “blessed”/”more blessed” distinction is canceled in verse 16 with a simple
“blessed”).
I’m arguing in my comment #29, essentially, that one cannot go without until one has
first had: inasmuch as the “without” calls for a subtractive logic, onemust first have been
compelled to be humble before one can be humbled (as it were) only by the word.
(Perhaps this goes back to your [Jim's] comments in response to Jenny about Eden: it
could only have been in Eden that humility without compulsion was possible, since only
there had the dialectic of history as the history of compulsion not yet begun… and yet it
was not possible there because they did not have the apparatus of being humble.)
Jim’s question has me plagued this morning with a whole host of questions. Here’s one:
Does the mention of baptism in verse 16 limit the scope of the discussion? Is there reason
to think that the same kind of process continues after one is baptized (at least without
stubbornness of heart)? If we’re non-stubbornly baptized, then does Alma’s logic still
apply? In other words, does Jim’s example fall under the scope of what Alma is saying,
or would it be better to think of Jim’s trials as being more analogous to, say, “the heat of
the sun” of v. 38, an occurrence that is nowhere described as being more blessed?
Also, I disagree with my previous comments in #28, I think that reading is too forced
(esp. in light of the first part of v. 16). Though I don’t have a good argument I can
articulate for this, I think it’s better to read the “or even” as a strengthening of the
(negated) condition rather than a weakening (as I think would be more natural/proper
by today’s grammatical standards). This makes me less satisfied with Adam’s response to
Jim (in #27). One of my lingering questions regarding this is whether or not we
can/should conclude from the “more blessed” question in v. 14 that those who do not
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experience the kind of poverty circumstance of the Zoramite poor and are truly humbled
b/c of the word are in fact more blessed? I’m inclined, at this point, to say “yes” and
agree, in a sense at least, with Jim’s expressed limit to his gratitude for his trial: trials are
not good in and of themselves, only if they lead to a kind of humility we would not have
otherwise. It is possible, in theory at least (cf. Joe’s response to Jim regarding the situation
in the Garden…), to experience true humility, and the benefits thereof, without being
compelled by (non-word-related—I think we are all in agreement that humility without
the word is not meaningful, or not possible) circumstances. Those in such a situation
would be more blessed (acc. to Alma’s logic, or so it seems to me) than those who are
truly humbled and are rejected by the upper classes of society. I think this reading (ableit,
murkily expressed) makes more sense of the text, and it has the added bonus of not
trivializing the evil done to the Zoramite poor by upper classes.
Also, regarding Adam’s question about what “know” means, I think we should read this
in terms of experiential knowledge, like the Hebrew yada—I think Joe and I at least
implicitly discussed above (starting with my comment #3) how this seems to fit what
Alma is saying. Though I’m not sure the extent to which “mystical” might be apropos to
Alma’s use of “know,” I do think that there is an important individual vs.
universal/public contrast that Alma is explicitly addressing (roughly, that knowledge
obtained after desire and faith is only individually obtained/experienced). I think this is
also a key distinction at work in the “of a surety” phrase, which seems (to me) to be
pretty consistently used in the Book of Mormon generally and in this chapter in
particular as referring to an assuring, visible sign confirming a kind of knowledge
obtained (cf. v. 21 esp.). This is the only way I can make sense of the difference between
verse 29 where the knowledge is not perfect and verse 34 (and v. 31) where the
knowledge is perfect: in v. 29 the seed’s swelling can only be felt within the
(individual’s…) breast, whereas in verse 34 the sprouting can be seen. However, I think
an argument against this reading could be mounted by noting the seeming switch to the
sense of taste in v. 42 where what matters is the sweetness of the fruit, not the visibility of
the fruit….
I think all of these issues/questions regarding the meaning and connotations of

knowledge are related to the intriguing use of “light” and the word “discernible” in v. 35.
Somehow, “know[ing] that it is good” seems to be linked with the real,discernible growth
of the seed (an experience that the mere swelling of the seed in v. 33 does not,
perplexingly, seem to qualify for—I realize I’m getting ahead of our reading with these
comments and questions, but I think these later verses really help us to see what Alma is
talking about in these earlier verses—plus, I’m getting anxious about not feeling settled
on a paper topic and July seems to already be passing quickly!). Also, related to Jenny’s
questions above about the relationship between faith and knowledge, I think the
introduction of the term “understanding” in v. 34 (and the expanding mind image) is
intriguing, though I’m quite confused about what to make of this.
Finally, I’ve been wondering about the use of the term “work” at the end of v. 20 (”it
shall be unto every man according to his work”). What does Alma mean by work? Since
the question of the Zoramite poor is what they should do (v. 5, restated by Alma in v. 9),
I’m inclined to think that the work Alma is primarily concerned with is belief (and the
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“making place,” nourishing, and patience that accompanies such belief). This leads to the
question: what is the counterpart to the (good) work of belief? Verse 28 describes unbelief
and the casting out of the seed in a way that I think can be taken to answer this question.
Another alternative is that the work mentioned is v. 20 is either positive work (believing)
or the lack of work (”unbelief” in v. 28). At any rate, I think these thoughts help us
understand the “no cause to believe” phrase in verse 18: part of the problem of
knowledge without belief is that it leaves no room for the work of belief. Since Alma
doesn’t seem to elaborate on this issue of work raised in verse 20 (at least not until, it
seems, 33:22 where he talks about being judged at the last day according to works), I’m
inclined to think he’s alluding to a notion or scripture that the Zoramite poor are already
familiar with (which makes me want to search this idea out in previous BOM passage,
but, alas, this is already way too long and I’m out of time! though I will say 1 Ne 17:41
comes to mind regarding “the labor which they had to perform was to look,” as well as
Joe’s book manuscript discussion of the “all we can do” phrase in 2 Ne 25 as referring to
our natural man dying—or something like that).
Jim, I spent a fair amount of time yesterday thinking through my earlier reading of v.19
because I know I have a tendency to read into the text what I want to see. I decided that
while I do see Alma using the Fall thematically in his discourse to frame the experience
of the poor Zoramites (being cast out of their synagogue into the world and needing to
learn how to call upon God and worship him again) that I misread v.19. The thematic
connection may still be there, but I don’t have a clear way to articulate it.
Then I saw your comment (26). Thank you for pointing out a third option—that Adam
and Eve could have asked God what to do about the contradiction—I hadn’t ever
considered that possibility. I thought your observation that they could have (but didn’t)
“work it out for themselves” was interesting in the possible connection to the “work” at
the end of v.20. Alma does seem to be stressing the importance of individual choice and
responsibility—the experience of faith being necessarily individual (or particular).
Jenny, I should have been more careful. Working it out for themselves is a logical option,
but I don’t think it was a possible one. (I also think that eating of the fruit and trusting, in
the absence of evidence to the contrary, that everything would work out would be a form
of trying to work it out themselves.)
So, I think that perhaps the only real option they had to what they did was to ask God
what they should do to solve the predicament.
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Robert, I am as plagued by your questions as you are.
I apologize to all if what I wrote was defensive. I didn’t want it to be, but the experience I
had in mind is something about which I remain sensitive and, so, perhaps defensive.
Nevertheless, I am not sensitive about deciding what it means. Right now, Alma says to
me, “Wouldn’t it have been better if you had humbled yourself without having to go
through what happened?” To which I can only shout “YES!” I don’t think, however, that
the quality of humility produced in either case is necessarily different.
35. on July 8, 2008 at 3:06 am35 joespencer
“I don’t think, however, that the quality of humility produced in either case is necessarily
different.”
I entirely agree with this. Explaining some of this conversation to my wife tonight, I
struck on a better way to explain what I mean perhaps, something that might make it a
bit clearer how it is that I see myself entirely agreeing with Jim.
One could say that Alma speaks of two humilities, one possible and one impossible. It is
eminently possible to be compelled to be humble, of which the Zoramite poor are a
perfect example. It is, however, impossible to humble oneself, a point Paul shows with
remarkable rigor again and again.
The irony, of course, is that while compelled humility is possible, it is impossible for it
(alone, that is, without some kind of supplement) to result in eternal life. And at the same
time, while it is impossible to humble oneself, this impossible humility is the only kind
that makes eternal life a real possibility.
Alma’s task, then, in verses 13-16, is to show how the impossible humility can be made
possible—that is, how one can do the impossible. And I see his brilliant articulation as
suggesting that the impossible humility (humbling oneself) becomes possible only as a
rewriting of the possible humility (humility through compulsion): the possible leads to
the impossible and the impossible only finds possibility as the impossible rewrites the
possible.
What this means is that I see Jim’s experience as (horrifically) typical, in the literal sense
of the word: I think that every humility that invites the Spirit is a rewriting of a
compulsion to be humble. I think it is only thus that verse 16’s drawing together of
“blessed” and “more blessed” under the single “blessed” makes sense.
Does that help at all?
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Excellent Joe (#35). Thanks very much.
Discussion Summary: Alma 32:14-20

July 5, 2008 by joespencer 
Because most all of our discussion this week turned on the three “withouts” of verse 16, I
spent some time trying to formalize/diagrammatize/mathematicize that without within
the broader structure of faith I see unfolding in Alma 32. As such, I worked out the
following “matheme” or diagram:
faithmatheme 
What I will do in the remainder of this summary is, following Jenny’s lead, try to
explicate this matheme a bit by analyzing it in light of the four questions we are
addressing in the seminar. Before turning directly to the four questions, though, I should
probably be quite forthcoming that this matheme is a product as much of my reading in
the rest of the Book of Mormon as it is of my reading in Alma 32, though it would have
been impossible without our discussions this week, etc. I should also mention that there
is an obvious influence of Badiou on my thinking here (there is some loose connection
between the matheme I present here and Badiou’s “gamma diagram”).
Moreover, I think this matheme can be broken into four “stages” of development:
creation, fall, atonement, and veil (a persistent theme throughout the Book of Mormon).
I’ve shown this here:
creationfallatonementveil 
Now, all of that said, onto the four questions themselves. It might be wise to have the
matheme open or printed and handy.
(4) How might paying close attention to the textual, historical, and political contexts of
Alma 32 (re)shape our understanding of Alma’s treatment of faith?
The first part of Alma 32 reveals a remarkably Hegelian setting for Alma’s speech. The
rich-poor dialectic that obtains among the Zoramites can be read—with remarkable
rigor—as parallel to Hegel’s master-slave dialectic. The matheme adopts this by placing
the master-slave dialectic itself on the left half of the diagram: the master and the slave
are interlocked in a dialectic that entails the development of an entire encyclopedia of
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knowledge. Of course, as Hegel makes clear—though he is drawing on a tradition
stretching back to at least Socrates/Plato—the development of this encyclopedic
knowledge unfolds only as a response to death (within, as Jenny as shown us again and
again, the fall).
This, of course, points back to Alma 31:5—Alma wants to take an approach that avoids
the violence of the sword, of death, and he proposes to do it by introducing the word.
That would seem to mean that there is a way of fixing the situation that leaves off death
for life (a la Kierkegaard, or perhaps even C. S. Lewis [in his The Great Divorce]).
(1) What does Alma 32 teach us about exercising faith?

 
Alma sees faith as being structured by a “without,” on which verse 16 is decisive:
“Therefore, blessed are they who humble themselves without being compelled to be
humble; or rather, in other words, blessed is he that believeth in the word of God, and is
baptized without stubbornness of heart, yea, without being brought to know the word, or
even compelled to know, before they will believe.” Given the clarifications in verses 17-
18 (and again in verses 19-20), it seems that it would be best to summarize Alma’s
conception of faith as belief without knowledge or humility without compulsion. The matheme
is a model of what this might look like: a subtractive humility will have to traverse and
transgress the compelled humility of the poor/slave.
But if Alma speaks of two humilities, the logic of verses 13-16 can also be read as trying
to work these two humilities into a single one (the “blessed” of verse 13 and the “more
blessed” of verse 14 being collapsed into a single “blessed” in verse 16): one must ask
how the two humilities are ultimately intertwined. The matheme attempts to capture
both the apparent split between two humilities (the slave is on one side of the veil, and
the humble believer is on the other side) and their apparent connection (the
traversing/transgressing arrow connects the two humilities). But how is it that the two
are brought into relation?
(2) What does Alma mean by “the word” and why is it so central to faith?
It seems that it is only the advent of “the word” that enables a crossing of the two
humilities. The supplementation of the dialectical situation of the Zoramites—the
supplementation of the word, indeed, of the Word—makes it possible for the entire
encyclopedia to be rewritten, recategorized, recoded, reinterpreted, etc. To speak in terms
of typology: the Word that suddenly supplements the situation makes it possible to read
everything in the encyclopedia typologically, as pointing to the Word that suddenly
intervenes. As a result, faith, as fidelity to the event of the advent of the supplementary
word, cannot be disentangled from preaching. The slavish person, who is obviously far
more open to supplementation than the master, has her compelled humility typologically
rewritten in light of the supplementary word: compelled humility is effectively
reconfigured as faithful humility, as humility without compulsion.
The word, then, is vital because it is effectively what breaks the totalizing play of the
master and the slave and thus makes it possible for compelled humility to be rewritten as
humility without compulsion (or, as Alma puts it, humility “because of the word”).
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(3) What is meant by the use of the term “experiment” in Alma 32.27?
Looking ahead a bit, then, it might be possible already to anticipate the “experiment” of
verse 27 to be the work of trying out a bit of typological reading. That is, one receives the
word and attempts to rethink the encyclopedia of the situation in light of the word as a
kind of experiment, and one determines along the way whether it is something one
would like to continue doing.
Some of this will be complicated, however, by the play of “the word” and “words” as the
chapter continues to unfold. (Are experiments only performed on words, while faith is
fidelity to the word? And what is the relationship between the plural and the singular? Is
the word simply the Word, namely, the One Name above all names, etc., while words are
the flesh the Word assumes in the preaching of the faithful?) But nonetheless, it is
perhaps possible already to suggest that the diagonally traversing arrow on the matheme
is precisely the movement of the experiment.

6 Responses to “Discussion Summary: Alma 32:14-20”
Sorry that I have half a summary up. I’ll be working more on this tomorrow. [Done!]
I will try not to grit my teeth as we go through the matheme. I promise–Scout’s honor.
But, by the way, how does a matheme differ from a diagram?
As for your questions / points to cover: I like them very much. I’m looking forward to
what you do with them.
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“Diagram” would probably be a better word. The only advantage I see to using the word
“matheme” (ultimately a bit incorrectly, though I can call Lacan to my side in doing so) is
that it emphasizes a bit more than does “diagram” (1) that it is a model (in the sense that
one speaks of a scientific model) and (2) that it aims unapologetically at working up a
universal truth (whereas a diagram might just be explaining one’s point of view).
But I will, in the meanwhile, be quite grateful for your longsuffering, Jim. :)
Joe, all suffering aside, I found both the “diagramic matheme” and your explanation very
helpful. Where do you get the time and energy to work up these things?
I have three initial responses.
1) I would modify your definition of faith as “belief without knowledge” to “belief

without perfect knowledge,” now that we have verse 21 in the picture so to speak.
2) I thought your analysis of Key Question 1 was great, but that the actual model might
need to be adjusted to reflect the points you make. If it is humility that both transverses
the master/slave cycle and transgresses the veil, it might work better to have the arrow
itself be humility (you could specify compelled humility). If that is the case, then that
adjustment could problematize your note that “the traversing/transgressing arrow
connects the two humilities.” If you took another route and identified the arrow with the
experiment itself, I think I would still argue for including an identification with
humility—the experiment in humility perhaps, or through humility—simply because I
think it might add some clarity.
3) This last comment was generated by your observation that “As a result, faith, as
fidelity to the event of the advent of the supplementary word, cannot be disentangled
from preaching.” I wonder if it might be helpful to rework that slightly to allow for a
visible inclusion of humility. I would say that faith as fidelity to the event of the advent
of the supplementary word results, as you explain, in a re-vision or re-reading of one’s
(con)text. However, it is the addition of humility itself that provides the actual link to
preaching: only in the change of heart—the application of mercy—the shift through
compelled humility towards faithful humility—does the subject find the need to speak.
The element of humility is not equivalent with silence, but rather with confession, and it
is in converted confession (an acting out of one’s fidelity) that we find preaching.
I’m not sure if that last point is clear, and I don’t think the adjustment affects your overall
conclusions, but I thought it was an interesting possibility that gives the subject a voice
(which, after all, is what the multitude wants from Alma—a way to restore their own
voice in worship): humility—>confession—>preaching.
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Jenny,
re: 1) — It is certainly necessary, now that we’ve moved along beyond verse 20, to begin
to work “perfect knowledge” into the model, but I’m not convinced it is so simple as a
mere replacement. I need to think about that more.
re: 2) — It may indeed be better to write the arrow as humility; that is an option I worked
with in developing the matheme, but rejected (for now). In part, that is because I couldn’t
get Word to let me insert a diagonally-oriented text-box (I’m still getting used to Word’s
picture drawing functions), but it is also because I’m not sure what would end up under
the “Or” position. How would your revision rework that, and where would the
subraction sign end up? Most complex is what might happen as we introduce the
question of experiment, which, as I mention above in the post, complicates things.
re: 3) — You’ve uncovered an interesting ambiguity in my language. I meant the initial

preaching: fidelity cannot be disentangled from having been preached to. However, I
think the other understanding is equally important, though I was not yet trying to
address it. Much more to think about here…
Joe, thanks for working up these diagrams, I think they are indeed quite helpful.
Regarding the singular/plural of word/s, I think this issue is (potentially) quite helpful
for thinking about the significance of Christ in the restoration (this is a common
complaint among Mormons I’ve heard regarding non-substitutionary theories of
atonement: if Christ didn’t pay some metaphysical, cosmic balance, then why did Jesus
Christ have to suffer and why is there so much emphasis put on him and his role in
salvation?). And I still think this should be related to the single voice representing the
multitude in vv. 1-7, as perhaps a type of the Day of Atonement high priest, etc.
But as it relates to your matheme, it would seem there are two nodes at which this
multiplying event would make sense: first, with the commissioning of the angels to
preach the word (cf. Isaiah 6); second, with the evental site reception of the word/s and
the beginning of the word/seed’s growth (along the diagonal; I’m thinking here of the
folk-doctrine that a testimony is gained in the bearing of it, preaching the word when
you only have a belief not knowledge—according to the definitions
of belief and knowledge given later in Alma 32—that the word is good).
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Alma 32:21-25
July 8, 2008 by Adam Miller 
If we were to risk definitions of some key terms and then constructed these definitions by
referring only to information presented thus far in the chapter, what might we venture?
The Word
The narrative introduction to Alma’s sermon (32.1-7) mentions “the word” on three
occasions.
Twice in the first verse – initially qualified as “the word of God” and then simply
referenced as “the word.” Here, the word is the direct object of Alma’s preaching.
In verse six we are told that Alma sees the multitude to be “in a preparation to hear the
word.” Their preparation consists of having suffered afflictions that “had truly humbled
them.”
Alma preaches “the word of God” and in order receive it one must be prepared by true
humility.
In the body of his discourse (32.8ff), Alma first mentions the word in verse 14. Here he
says that “they are more blessed who humble themselves because of the word.” This
seems to indicate that humility may not only precede the word by way of preparation,
but follow the word as an effect.
In verse 16, Alma says that “blessed is he that believeth in the word of God . . . without
being brought to know the word . . . before they will believe.” Here, the word is
identified as the object of belief and/or knowledge.
In verse 22, Alma says that “God is merciful unto all who believe on his name; therefore
he desireth, in the first place, that ye should believe, yea, even on his word.” Here, the
word is directly identified as the object of belief and indirectly associated with what God
desires. God desires us to believe in his word. The possessive “his” suggests that in the
phrase “the word of God” the “of God” should be understood not primarily as “the
word about God” but as “the word spoken by God.” We might even understand “his
word” to refer expressly to a promise (as when one “gives one’s word”).
In verse 23, Alma describes “the word” as something that God gives or imparts: “He
imparteth his word by angels unto men.” Here, the word is a gift given by the
intermediary of an angel.
Finally, in verse 23, the word is pluralized to refer to the way that “little children do have
words given unto them many times, which confound the wise and the learned.” Here,
again, the word is described as something “given.” Further, it is associated with that
which can confound us – especially if we take ourselves to be wise and learned. Its power
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to confound is likely what accounts for the necessary preparation of humility in order to
receive it and the potential effect of humility that its reception can induce.
We might, then, say something like this: the word is what is preached by God’s
angel/messenger to those who are humble/prepared in order to extend to them a
promise that will bless them with humility by confounding them.
The content of this promise appears to be most clearly indicated in verse 22 when Alma
says that “God is merciful unto all who believe on his name; therefore he desireth, in the
first place, that ye should believe, yea, even on his word.” “His word” appears to directly
implicate the promise that he “is merciful unto all who believe on his name.”
Given this identification of “his word” with the promise of mercy, we might read verse
13 in a similar way as Alma’s clearest and fullest expression of what he then summarizes
in verse 14 with his initial use of the phrase “the word.”
“And now surely,

Whosoever repenteth
shall find mercy;
and he that findeth mercy
and endureth to the end
the same shall be saved.”
Faith
As I mentioned last week, I believe Alma 32 generally uses the terms “faith” and “belief”
in a way that is more or less synonymous. This is evident especially in verse 18 where
Alma asks: “Is this faith? Behold, I say unto you, Nay; for if a man knoweth a thing he
hath no cause to believe, for he knoweth it.” This verse is, in fact, the first verse in the
chapter to use the word “faith.” Verse 16, however, is the first to use the word “believe.”
Verse 18 is also interesting because it appears to provide a relatively stringent, negative

delimitation of faith: it is possible to believe “a thing” only under the condition that one
does not know it.
If, however, faith is understood to be synonymous with belief then verse 16 pretty
explicitly equates belief with humility:
“Therefore,
blessed are they who humble themselves
without being compelled to be humble;
or rather, in other words,
blessed is he that believeth in the word of God and is baptized
without stubbornness of heart.”
I’ve arranged the scansion of this section of the verse slightly different than previously.
Here, “humbling oneself” is parallel to “believing in the word” + “being baptized” and
“without being compelled” is parallel to “without stubbornness of heart.”
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In verse 21, Alma returns from his aside about cursedness to address again what he
means by “faith.” He begins by offering a re-statement of his initially negative
delimitation: “as I said concerning faith – faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of
things.” This restatement is less stringent the first description. The mutual exclusivity of
faith and knowledge is softened by the inclusion of the modifier “perfect.” This seems to
indicate that faith may overlap with knowledge, but not with “perfect” knowledge.
In the second half of verse 21, Alma then offers a positive definition of faith: “if ye have
faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true.” This double modification of
the “things” for which faith hopes seems to function as a commentary on the first half of
the verse. What would “perfect” knowledge be? It would be knowledge that is seen?
Faith bears a relation to knowledge of the “things” it hopes for insofar as these things are
qualified as “true,” but faith is not knowledge insofar as the “things” are not seen. Sight
here operates as the condition for the “perfection” of knowledge?
Thus far in Alma 32 we know several crucial things about faith. The object of faith is
God’s word. Believing in the word without stubbornness of heart is equivalent to
humbling oneself without compulsion. Faith entails hoping for “things” not seen. If we
know something (perfectly), then we have no cause to believe it.
What causes us to believe in “things” not seen? Is the “cause” of faith humility? Also, if
the word of God is his promise of mercy, then is God’s mercy what is not seen, but true?
In the absence of visible mercy, our humility is what causes faith in the thing unseen?
Knowledge
In verse 12, Alma introduces the term “wisdom” and connects it with humility: “it is well
that ye are cast out of your synagogues, that ye may be humble, and that ye may learn
wisdom; for it is necessary that ye should learn wisdom.” Here, both humility and
wisdom are described as “necessities” that are given in parallel with one another. We are,
Alma continues, “necessarily brought to be humble.”
What is the relationship between this wisdom and knowledge? Is wisdom a particular
relation to knowledge? A humble relation to knowledge?
What is the relationship between wisdom and the word? Is wisdom a necessary but
uncompelled relation to the promise of God’s mercy?
Verse 16 is the chapter’s first use of the term “to know”: “blessed is he that believeth in
the word of God and is baptized without stubbornness of heart, yea, without being
brought to know the word, or even compelled to know, before they will believe.” Here,
“to know” is introduced as a verb whose direct object is the word. It describes a possible
relation to the word that is contrasted with a relation that would be without
stubbornness of heart. The intensifying repetition that moves from “to know the word”
to “compelled to know” appears to mark the initial difference between belief and
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knowledge in terms of compulsion. The verse’s earlier use of the word compulsion refers
to being humble without being compelled to be humble. There is something about
knowledge of the word that compels humility.
In verse 17, Alma reports the received “wisdom” of the crowd/”the many” to be the
following: “there are many who do say: If thou wilt show unto us a sign from heaven,
then we shall know of a surety; then we shall believe.” Alma doesn’t dispute the
proposed connection between knowledge, signs, and surety. He does, however, dispute
the conflation of knowing and believing on the grounds that “if a man knoweth a thing
he hath no cause to believe it.” Again, the key difference appears to be compulsion. In the
face of a sure sign, knowing is compelled and in light of this compulsion the “cause” for
believing is removed. Belief is “caused” by an absence of compulsion? Belief is caused by
a certain kind of lack?
In verse 19, Alma proposes a connection between being cursed and knowing the will of
God without doing it. However, he does not contrast knowledge with belief on this
point. It is also cursed to “only” believe and not do it. The difference is potentially one of
degree: to know and fail to act may be “more” cursed than to only believe and not act.
But this, Alma tell us, we’ll have to decide for ourselves. However, the diminuitive
“only” associated with “only believeth” and the “more” associated with knowledge
indicates that knowledge may differ from belief in its addition of something “more.”
In verse 21, Alma qualifies the kind of knowledge that is exclusive of faith as “perfect
knowledge.” This modification, especially in light of its later use (cf. verse 34), appears to
put a positive spin on knowledge. Also, as I suggested earlier, the difference between a
knowledge that does not exclude the cause of faith and a perfect knowledge seems to
turn on the question of hope. Faith must hope and hope involves a relation to what is not
seen. Presumably, a “perfect” knowledge would then be one that involves the visible
presence of what is not seen in such a way that the need for hope is unnecessary because
the hope has been realized. The perfection of knowledge is the actualization of hope?
Finally, in verses 24-25, Alma casts the Zoramites’ request as a desire “to know what ye
should do.” Here, knowing is an object of desire and it is that which directs an action. In
these same verses, Alma also uses the following interesting phrase: “now I do not desire
that ye should suppose that I mean to judge you only according to that which is true – for
I do not mean that ye all of you have been compelled to be humble yourselves; for I
verily believe that there are some among you who would humble themselves.” The
initial statement about “that which is true” may be of note in here in connection with
knowledge. Alma doesn’t want to judge them just on the basis of what is true. He wants
to additionally take into account what might have been the case (or, what will have
been the case?): if they weren’t compelled to humility as they manifestly are, then might
have been humble nonetheless. Is the use of the phrase “that which is true” parallel to the
use of the same locution in verse 22 where “ye hope for things which are not seen, which
are true”? Is Alma invoking the same distinction? It is true/visible that the poor are
compelled to be humility, but in order for there to be room for faith we must additionally
take into account what is not seen: the humility that they might have had anyway?
Otherwise, the situation is literally hopeless and faith is without a cause? In this sense,
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the “perfection” of knowledge would involve the actualization of the humility that they
might have had if they (like all of us?) hadn’t first been compelled to humility?
Tying Knots
Well, I’ve rambled around quite a bit here, not only through my own verses for this week
but through everyone else’s preceding verses as well. Nonetheless, some ideas are on the
table. At this point in the chapter, we’ve got a constellation of key terms:
The word, mercy, humility, faith, belief, hope, knowledge, and compulsion.
Figuring out how to constellate their relationships is, I think, the key. I’m out of time now
(and already late!), but I’d propose the following “activity” for those interested: take each
of these eight terms and define their relationship to each of the others only on the basis of
what we’ve already been told in this chapter.
Thus:
What is the connection between the word and mercy? the word and humility? the word
and faith? the word and belief? the word and hope? the word and knowledge? the word
and compulsion?
And, what is the connection between mercy and the word? mercy and humility? mercy
and faith? mercy and belief? mercy and hope? mercy and knowledge? mercy and
compulsion?
Etc.

(Adam, your html tags were messed up for some reason, so I tried to fix them. So if you
notice typos or formatting problems, it’s my fault….)
Thanks, Robert. I’ll check them again. Sorry for the trouble!
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Adam, I really like what you are doing here on the whole. I think this “terminological
approach” is going to prove quite helpful.
I very much like what you’ve done in thinking about the word, perhaps especially the
turn toward promise and the way that rehabilitates the question of mercy. I never
brought up this thought in the course of our discussion of verse 13 before, but I was
struck in my own readings with the essential disconnect between what is sought and
what is found in that verse: “a man sometimes, if he is compelled to be humble, seeketh
repentance; and now surely, whosoever repenteth shall find mercy.” I think there is a good
deal more that needs to be said about this disconnect (does “seeking repentance” entail a
kind of profession of helplessness or impotence? and does “finding mercy” mean that
one stops seeking repentance at last?), so I find it very helpful that your thoughts on “the
word” are pushing us back in that direction, forcing us to give some content to what (I
hope) I have laid out structurally in my mathematization of Alma’s model of faith.
I like your analysis of verse 16 in your section on faith, but I think I do want to take some
issue with the classification of the second part of verse 21 as being in any sense a
definition. That Alma bothers to construct it in terms of an “if-then” statement makes
such a categorization somewhat problematic: he is not defining faith, but telling us what
follows from faith. As such, I think it is veryimportant to maintain a sharp distinction
between faith and hope.
Indeed, in some ways, I think that the simplest way to summarize what is wrong in
Derridean thinking (which can often, but perhaps not always, be read back into Levinas)
is that it fails to distinguish between faith and hope.
If faith is a question of one’s relation to an undeniably past event (the arrival of an angel,
the reception of a word or promise, etc.), then faith cannot be hope, which is always
oriented to the future (or at least to something futurial, something still-to-come). Where
faith and hope can be disambiguated, they are no longer a pair of intertwined terms
referring to what must, structurally speaking, never come (so that there remains to us
some kind of present). Instead, faith becomes a subjective position with respect to a past
event, and hope becomes a projective “knowledge without knowledge,” a definitively
“imperfect knowledge” because it rewrites knowledge without having seen. Inasmuch as
faith and hope remain ambiguously unseparated, we are faithful to and hope for only
death. But where the two are ambiguated, we are faithful to the word that has promised
us life, and we distract death itself in hope.
I have, as well, a good deal to say about “knowledge” and “tying knots,” but am
compelled by other things for the remainder of the afternoon….
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4. on July 9, 2008 at 1:04 am4 juliemariesmith
I think this definitional approach is fabulous; thanks.
A few notes:
(1) V21 (”And now as I said concerning faith—faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of
things;”) and v26 (”Now, as I said concerning faith—that it was not a perfect
knowledge”) are almost identical and I am wondering why. It almost seems as if Alma
heads off on a tangent in v21 and then returns to the main theme in v26, but I hate to then
dismiss v21-25 as tangential. What other purposes might the repetition serve?
(2) I can’t help but note the reference to women in v23–a rare event in the Book of
Mormon. I wonder why they are mentioned here.
(3) I’m curious about the two references to “desire” in v24. There’s the people’s desire to
know what to do contrasted (but yet, compared via the word “desire”) with Alma’s (lack
of) desire to want them to think he’ll judge them a certain way. There is also a mention in
v22 of God’s desire.
Good stuff, Adam.
Verse 8, however, can easily be read as using teleological causation. If so, then they
humble themselves in order to receive the word. But that is a small criticism (perhaps just
a supplement rather than a criticism). I particularly like the definition to which you
come” the word is what is preached by God’s angel/messenger to those who are
humble/prepared in order to extend to them a promise that will bless them with
humility by confounding them.”
Your note that Alma uses “faith” and “belief” as synonyms is important because we
often overlook that fact when we talk about Alma’s sermon.
Your scansion of verse 18 emphasizes that the answer to our question about being
humbled may be answered by Alma’s definition of that term: contrary to much of what
we have said, he takes it to mean “to believe in the word of God and to be baptized.”
That puts our entire discussion of being humbled in a different light.
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I wonder how we should understand “perfect” (verse 21)? Webster’s (1828) says:
PER’FECT, adjective [Latin perfectus, perficio, to complete; per and facio, to do or make
through, to carry to the end.]
1. Finished; complete; consummate; not defective; having all that is requisite to its nature
and kind; as a perfect statue; a perfect likeness; a perfect work; aperfect system.
As full, as perfect in a hair as heart.
Pope.
2. Fully informed; completely skilled; as men perfect in the use of arms; perfect in
discipline.
3. Complete in moral excellencies.

Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father who is in heaven is perfect. Matthew 5.
4. Manifesting perfection.
Could perfect knowledge be “not defective” or “having all that is requisite to its nature
and kind” rather than “complete”? As Adam points out, sight seems to be the metaphor
that describes perfect knowledge, but the sight of “what is requisite” is very different
than the sight what is “finished; complete.”
The use of “know” in verse 16 is very interesting when compared to its use after verse 18.
Is Alma speaking of knowing the word in verse 18? Perhaps not. For those who are
humble in verse 16 are those who believe before they know the word, suggesting that
they do know the word after they believe. Perhaps verses 18ff. describe the process by
which those who are not compelled to be humble move from belief to knowledge, but I
don’t read it that way, though I don’t have a good explanation for why not.
Adam, have you thought through the points you make about knowledge enough to give
us any kind of wrap-up?
Joe, like you, I am struck by the phrase “seeketh repentance.” We seldom speak of
repentance as something we seek. That suggests, however, that it is not something that
one merely does. It is something to be desired and sought for, not something over-and-
done. Perhaps our thinking about humility and repentance would be enriched by
thinking more about what that phrase means.
Must faith always be oriented to the future? I can hope with an orientation toward the
past: “I hope that she didn’t die.” Isn’t hope in Christ something oriented to the past as
well as the future? By the same token, isn’t faith in Christ at least partly oriented toward
the past, toward the event of passion, death, and resurrection?
Julie, I think that verses 21-25 are tangential; I think you are reading the repetition in
verse 26 correctly. But it needn’t follow that what appears in the tangent is dismissed
when we recognize it as such. The ellipses of 21 and 26 mark off something that is not
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directly a part of Alma’s main purpose, but they also mark of something that he thought
it was crucial that he say.
God desires that they believe.
They desire to know what to do.
Alma desires that they understand he is not judging them.
Their desire is framed by the explanation for why Alma doesn’t answer their question
directly, at least not at first. They want to know what to do about their exclusion from the
synagogue. God wants them to believe, so Alma is going to teach them what to believe,
and he worries that by doing so they will think that he—like the Zoramites—is judging
them.
Okay, Adam, getting on to your discussion of “knowledge,” and I’ll try to respond to
Jim’s question to me as well in the course o fmy response to you.
I think your analysis of knowledge in the chapter really comes to fruition in the last
paragraph of your discussion, where you read Alma’s not judging the Zoramite
poor only according to that which is true as his refusing to judge them only according to
the canons of knowledge. That this frees up what “might have been the case” or perhaps
what “will have been the case” is fantastic: Alma is effectively faithful to them in his
refusal to judge only by what he knows, that is, only by what one can see.
Perhaps the phrase “that which is true” should be read with a rather heavy emphasis on
“is” (”that which is true”) such that it points to Alma’s judging them rather according to
“that which will have been true.” I think you have really opened some rich possibilities
here.
And yet, again, I’m concerned about the apparent conflation of faith and hope. But I
think that your analysis of knowledge is quite helpful for sorting out the real distinction
(and in perhaps less problematic terms than merely temporal ones, to which I’ll return
below): perhaps there are two kinds of invisibility, one which corresponds with what is
believed, and another which corresponds with what is hoped for.
If what one believes is the word, or even the Word, then faith is oriented by what is
invisible by definition, by what cannot be apparent, by what cannot be imagined, imaged,
confined to the imaginary, or trapped within an idol. But if what one hopes for is things
that can be seen, then hope is oriented by what is invisible only for now, but what can be
imagined, etc.
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This distinction is of course one Derrida talks about in a number of places, including The
Gift of Death, but it is also perhaps the distinction Lacan draws between the imaginary
and the symbolic (the former can be “pictured,” the latter “written”—which means that
while the imaginary can also be symbolized, the symbolic cannot always be imagined).
If faith and hope are always to be paired, as verse 21 suggests, then one might say that it
is actually hope and not faith that takes the place of knowledge for the faithful/humble
subject: faith is what roots one in the supplementarity of the Word, but hope is what
characterizes one’s rewriting of the (death-oriented) situation in terms of life.
And it would be in this sense that one can speak of faith as being oriented by the past
and hope by the future. Faith is oriented by the past in that it is faithful to
some real supplement to the situation, something that must have been spoken (in or by
the word/Word) in an already past event. And hope is oriented by the future in that it
always concerns what remains to be seen, whether what remains to be seen is something
that may have become the case some time in the past. Faith is one’s orientation to the
invisible word of the past such that one dismisses the present state of knowledge through
an orientation to what remains (in the future) to be seen.
Faith as a question of the past; hope as a question of the future; and so, of course,
charity/love as a question of the present…
Does that begin to pave the way toward tying some knots? Inasmuch as mercy can be
tied to love, I think these further ramblings, working out some of the implications of your
own, begin to point the way toward a knotting of at least faith/belief (in the word), hope
(as a rewriting of knowledge and thus a dispelling of compulsion), and mercy, the trio of
which might be gathered under the title “humility”?
But I’ll do a bit more thinking about knotting, and more elementarily, as you suggest in
your post (with the “exercise”).
For what it is worth, I’ve finished my summary of last week’s discussion, and I wonder if
the matheme I propose and discuss there isn’t a good place to start a discussion of how to
knot the eight terms (plus a few more? such as death and life, rich and poor, angels and
preaching, the “without” and the “blessed”/”more blessed,” things and words, etc.)
Adam proposes….
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Adam, thank you—I appreciate how you’ve focused the discussion here. A few thoughts.
1) Re: the word, the content of the promise, and mercy. I thought the analysis here was
very productive. If the promise is mercy given to all who believe on his name/his word, I
wanted to explore a bit more what mercy consists of. In chapter 32, we can “find mercy”
(v.13), and “God is merciful” (v.22); mercy is both something not immediately seen that
may be located/revealed and a characteristic of God.
In chapters 30-35, Alma quotes Zenock saying that the Lord is angry “because they will
not understand thy mercies which thou has bestowed upon them because of thy Son”
(33:16); Amulek explores the relationship between mercy and justice in chapter 34 (the
sacrifice is “to bring about the bowels of mercy” [15], “thus mercy can satisfy the
demands of justice, and encircles them in the arms of safety” [16], “that he would have
mercy upon you” [17], “cry unto him for mercy” [18]). Mercy is a plural gift/honor/right
given by God because of his Son, it is the innermost seat or quality of/resulting from
Christ’s atoning sacrifice, it provides legal satisfaction, it is active and acting, it is held by
God and placed upon man, and it is what we petition from God in prayer.
Although it’s a different section of text, Alma’s wording in 36:18 is interesting: Alma asks
Jesus to “have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by
the everlasting chains of death.” The contrast between Amulek’s conception of mercy as
that which encircles in the arms of safety (34:16) and Alma’s experience with sin as that
which encircles him with eternal death is striking. In a way, the imagery suggests a
conception of repentance and the resulting promised mercy as the exchange of an
embrace: the binding, damning embrace of the devil is released and replaced by the
supporting, protecting embrace of God.
Mercy is conceptualized through oppositions: it is lost and found, it is of God for man, it
is the gift we must ask for, it is singular/one and plural/many, it acts and yet requires
others’ actions (God’s giving, man’s seeking repentance). In other words, can we think
mercy not as a static, singular, qualitative event or thing, but rather the gap or space
between death turning to life?
2) Re: Julie’s second point (4.2) regarding the mention of women in v.23. Her question
caused me to re-read the verse in a different way. I see two sections:
he imparteth his word by angels unto men,

yea, not only men but women also.
Now this is not all;
little children do have words given unto them many times,
which confound the wise and learned.
I think I’ve typically read these sections as three variations on the theme of God giving
his word via angels to mankind, where the distinctions are drawn along traditional
societal roles/lines: men, women, and children as members of the family. But in dividing
the verse into its two constituent parts, it seems like men and women are grouped
together and that children occupy a distinct space.
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In the first sentence, men and women are interchangeable: God communicates his word
by angels to both men and women. But the children are both similar and different. The
phrase “Now this is not all” could refer to the fact that angels also communicate with
children, but it could also indicate a new type of communication.
In fact, it the second segment seems to indicate several qualitative differences: the
children are given words (multiple words versus the singular word given to men and
women); while the givers may also be angels, that fact is not explicitly stated and thus
leaves open the possibility for other givers (God? Parents? Teachers?); children are given
words “many times,” an indication that the frequency of the gift may be increased for
children; finally, the children share the words given to them with others, and in doing so,
those shared words (or perhaps the act of the children sharing the words itself)
confounds “the wise and the learned.”
The relationship between the children and the words seems much more active and full. It
also seems to have interesting parallels with Adam’s study of the word: “the word is
what is preached by God’s angel/messenger to those who are humble/prepared in order
to extend to them a promise that will bless them with humility by confounding them.”
Can we see the children acting as angels/messengers sharing the words they’ve received
in order to extend a promise that blesses through confounding the wise and the learned?
If so, then it might be worthwhile to recast our social/biological definitions of “men,”
“women,” and “children” and instead re-read them as types of preparedness/humility
before God. Men/women being, then, the position we all find ourselves in—compelled
to be humble, confounded by the words given to us by the messengers of God. And
children as the position to which we aspire through
faith/repentance/humility/endurance—humble without compulsion, obedient without
stubbornness, freely and bounteously receiving and sharing the words, messenger,
giving the gift of a promise, blessing others with humility that results from the
confounding.
As I was working this out, Matt. 18:3 came to mind: “except ye be converted, and become
as little children, ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.”
I’ve been stewing on all these great comments, but have become quite distracted trying
thinking about various structural patterns in this chapter. Here’s the only pattern I’ve
found that I deem worth sharing (at this point):
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The “perfect knowledge” phrase in verses 21 and 26 that Julie and others mentioned is
suggestive enough that I played with many different ways to think about their relations
here and later in the chapter. One pattern that strikes me as interesting is as follows:
_”perfect knowledge” (v. 21)

__”all” (v. 22)
___”desire” (v. 22)
____”imparts word” (v. 23)
___”desire” (v. 24)
__”some” (v. 25)
_”perfect knowledge” (v. 26)
If there’s anything to this pattern (I still have my doubts…), then it’s interesting that,
firstly, verse 23 is the center of this chiastic structuring (which adds importance to
Jenny’s thoughts on this; the emphasis also fits Joe’s matheme/diagram well, which I
think also fits the rest of the chapter’s emphasis quite nicely); secondly, I think the switch
from the claim in verse 22 that “God is merciful unto all who will believe on his name” to
the claim in verse 25 that “for I verily believe that there are some among you who would
humble themselves” is very interesting—reminds me of “many are called but few are
chosen” passages (even though the idea seems to be the same in verses 22 and 25, the
different way of expression strikes me as potentially significant…).
Jenny, these thoughts on verse 23 are remarkable! I want to think them over very
carefully. Thank you.
Robert, I think working toward a genuine structuration of verses 21-26 is a very good
idea, since I still see them as relatively scattered. Very helpful.
Jenny,
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Very helpful thoughts about how (1) mercy must be “found,” which implies that it is in
some way “not seen/invisible,” and (2) that the men/women vs. children grouping can
be read as an exemplification of the two kinds of humility earlier differentiated.
Very nice!
Allow me to post a final mess of notes here in preparation for a summary that
I’m sure will fit all the pieces together with neatness and precision :)
These are in no particular order.
1. Humility is a necessity (”ye are necessarily brought to be humble,” v12). It is a

necessity not just for those who wish to have faith. Rather it is a necessity, period. Like
the poor, we might be compelled to acknowledge it. Or, like the rich, we might be
compelled to acknowledge its necessity all the more by trying desperately to cover it up
with clothes, baubles, honor, etc. But the humility is unavoidable. The question is our
relation to it.
Humility experienced as a compelled necessity is humiliation? Uncompelled humility is

humility “without” humiliation?
2. Mercy = uncompelled justice?
3. The word causes humility (”they are more blessed who truly humble themselves
because of the word,” v14).
4. Believing = humility without compulsion.
5. If you have a perfect knowledge, you have no cause to believe.
6. The cause of belief/uncompelled humility = the word.
7. The cause: the “without” of the “without compulsion”?
8. Faith is the cause of hope (”if ye have faith [then] ye hope,” v21).
9. We hope for things which are not seen. Their being “without” visibility withdraws
them from knowledge, allowing them to act as a cause?
10. Knowledge compels humility. This compulsion is a necessity (it is “that which is
true,” v24), but faith is a question of what “would have been” true if we had humbled
ourselves.
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11. The “would have been” is what is not seen. The subjunctive world of possibility is
what withdraws, it is what the situation of sin is without?
12. The unseen is what enables us to act/do (”what shall we do?”)?
13. God is merciful, therefore he desires our belief (cf. v22). God’s mercy is the cause of his
desire for our belief.
14. God desires. He desires what he is without. It is God’s mercy that causes a desire (i.e.,
a “without”) that sets in motion the entire process? In relation to what is necessarily true,
God initiates the subtraction of something, a lack, that opens a space for what “would
have been” true if we had humbled ourselves rather than been compelled to humility
and, thus, he makes room for faith/action?
15. Mercy must be found because it is not visible when we experience our humility as a
compelled necessity. Humility as compelled necessity is justice without mercy.
Compelled justice renders mercy invisible. Mercy is justice experienced without
compulsion. The subtraction of compulsion (the “without” that God’s desire sets in
motion) renders mercy visible.
16. When mercy is found/seen, we experience our humility as “what would have been”
other than compelled. When it is seen we have perfect knowledge. When we have perfect
knowledge we have “true” humility.
15. Note that the word “true” is used on multiple occasions to describe “humility” (v14,
v15, cf. v7). If “truth” is a quality of humility, then is there an inherent connection
between humility and knowledge (truth being a modality of knowledge)?
Fascinating and provocative notes, Adam. “Mercy is justice experienced without

compulsion.” That needs to be scrawled on the walls of every building in the Church.
Ugh, so much I wanted to say last week, yet I never had a chance to sit and collect my
thoughts. For now, a couple of intertextual thoughts on hope:
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* The discussion on hope got me thinking about a couple verses in Moroni 7. In verse 40,
it seems that hope is needed in order to have faith (”How is it that ye can attain unto
faith, save ye shall have hope?”) whereas in verse 42 it seems faith is needed in order to
hope (”for without faith there cannot be any hope”). I think this circularity/dialectic is
very provocative (I know these are Mormon’s words, not Alma’s, but still…). I think this
points to an understanding of the word/s as brought to us by messengers/texts, and
initiated by God’s desire (cf. 1 John 4:19 where God “first loved us”) as initiating an event
that sets both faith and hope in motion simultaneously.
* I also did a bit of study on Hebrews 11:1, provoked mostly by Joe’s comments above. I
think a decent case could be made for reading this as “Now faith is thereal of hope, the
divinely given conviction of things unseen.” (I’m taking “the real” basically from William
Lane’s Word Biblical Commentary and “divinely given conviction” directly from the
TDNT.) In this vein, and following above discussion, I’m inclined to think of faith as
contentless/propositionless (but based in Christ), whereas hope has a symbolized
content (hence the common phraseology, faithin Christ, but hope for salvation…).
Also, Adam, regarding your comments on justice, if you don’t have Alma 34 explicitly in
mind here, I think your thoughts (and Joe’s previous comment somewhere about this
compelled humility being like the law without Christ) match up nicely—and make for an
interesting reading of—Amulek’s follow-up remarks (esp. 34:15-18). I think this casts the
meta-theme of prayer in an interesting light: Amulek admonishes the true order of
prayer, in contrast to the apostate Zoramites’ manner of praying, and echoing Alma’s
prayer in ch. 31, as a response to—and call for—God’s mercy….
This also highlight for me, in response to Jim’s question about the sense in which Alma
doesn’t directly respond to the question of what to do in ch. 32, the response that is
eventually given by both Alma and Amulek, namely to pray. More and more, I think
prayer should be seen as the main overarching, structuring theme of chapters 31-33. I see
this as feeding into Adam’s comments about lack and desire above. Even Amulek’s
eventual discussion of charity seems to fit well in this yearning-for-
justice/atonement/mercy as expressed in prayer as a response to God’s word way of
reading these chapters. Salvation is nothing more (though also nothing less) than giving
space (and nourishment) for this desire-filled word of mercy to sprout and grow in our
breasts, increasing(/participating) in us this desire to overcome injustice, sin, pride, etc.,
etc.
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Also, regarding Adam’s pointed-to emphasis on “truly humble” in vv. 14-15, it seems
that thinking about this in terms of desire is helpful: to be truly humble is to not wish
that you were not in your humble situation. To be truly humble is to be true to your
humility, true to the humbling word and/or situation by seeing things (to put it tritely,
again) from an eternal/divine perspective—that is, reordered and restructured by the
word via faith and hope. So the hearts of the Zoramites that are “swallowed up in their
pride” (31:27) and “hardness of their hearts” (33:20, cf. 33:21) is dramatically
(chiastically?) contrasted with the “lowly in heart,” “without stubbornness of heart,”
“plant[ing] in your heart,” and “swell[ing] within your breasts” of ch. 32….
Stumbling around a bit in trying to write up some thoughts on Alma 32 as a whole thus
far, I realized that the sudden and so remarkably uncharacteristic expression of sexual
difference in verse 23 is situated in the middle of Alma’s shift from faith-as-against-
knowledge (in verse 21) to faith-as-on-the-way-to-knowledge (in verse 26). We have
something like this, then:
faith —> sexual difference —> knowledge …
Or, in terms of Badiou’s gamma-diagram:
event —> love —> science …
At any rate, the subjectivity of the event/faith is radicalized by this reference to gender:
the event splits the one into two, and real progress in knowledge/science depends on the
love that the two calls for (though we so often miss it).
In a word: inasmuch as verse 23 here calls for a thinking of gender issues in the Book of
Mormon gender, and inasmuch as it cannot be disentangled from questions of the event,
faith, and the Word, does this odd placement not begin to suggest something about how
helpful Marion/Badiou might be in their thinking about love/eros in terms of events,
fidelity, and the unnameable?
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Joe, fascinating. Especially given the thematic connections of the second half of the
chapter to reproduction, growth, and birth. And the linguistic ties between v.42 and 1
Ne. 11 (for specific ties see vs. 8, 9, 13, 15). I’ve been playing with these connections for a
while, and your reading of v.23 as splitting ch. 32 on the axis of sexual difference is very
helpful.
Am I just a curmudgeon? I don’t see what Joe does in #18.
I don’t read verse 21 as “faith-against-knowledge.” Faith is not perfect knowledge; it is

hope. But that is a redefinition of knowledge, isn’t it? I don’t see that it sets faith against
knowledge.
I think it is very interesting that Alma introduces gender in verse 23, and I also think that
Jenny’s parsing of the verse into two groups–men & women; children–is right. However,
sexual difference doesn’t seem to be the point. As Jenny’s parsing points out, the division
is not between men and women so much as it is between men and women, on the one
hand, and children, on the other.
I’m generally with Jim on this one (curmudgeon that he is).
Jim, I know your question (20) centers more around Joe’s phrasing, but it made me think
about why I’m reading sexual difference thematically in verse 23. I worked out my
thoughts a bit and am putting them here for future reference (hope that’s ok).
I’m fairly certain sexual difference is not the point—that’s why I parsed the verse as I did.
As a reader of the entire Book of Mormon text, however, the phrasing here is interesting.
For the most part, when women and men are mentioned together in the Book of Mormon
it is normally in the phrase “men, women, and children,” used to a create a sense of
“everyone in the community” (as in everyone was killed, or went into battle, or Christ
will suffer for everyone).
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Verse 23, however, is markedly different: “he imparteth his word by angels unto men,
yea, not only men but women also.” Alma could have just left it at “unto men,” and we
would (at least today) read that as a general reference to mankind. However, Alma
continues to clarify his words. The addition of “not only men but women also”
foregrounds women as a distinct group—the difference is not in who receives the words
of angels, but rather that men and women are different. Given the information we have
before us in the text, the most logical difference between men and women is that of
gender.
Alma’s intent was not to address the fact of sexual difference between women and men.
However, his phrasing is unique in the Book of Mormon as far as I can see (in my
admittedly cursory search), and as such calls attention to itself and the underlying
understanding of sexual difference that allows for the clarifying comment to be made in
the first place.
I’m interested in the placement of the verse structurally (whether intended by Alma or
not) in that it is after this verse that Alma is able to get underway with his extended
comparison of the word/seed and its relationship to faith and knowledge. I think you’re
right, however, to question what Joe means by “faith-as-against-knowledge”—I’d be
interested in having that unpacked a bit more.
I think Jenny has nicely articulated the question of sexual difference. I entirely agree with
her citing children as being the particular focus in the verse, but, as she says, the
separating out of women and men is (to my knowledge also) entirely unique to this text,
and I suspect that there is something remarkable happening there.
My burden is apparently to sort out my reading of verse 21 for everyone.
If anyone goes looking in the Book of Mormon for a definition of faith, s/he usually ends
up in verse 21 here: faith is “hope for things which are not seen, which are true.”
However, the verse does not say what faith is, but what faithdoes: “if ye have faith ye
hope for things which are not seen, which are true.” Rather than claiming that
faith is hope, the verse tells us that faith is coupled with hope, that it is the faithful who
hope.
This clarification suggests in turn that this particular phrase of verse 21 does not at
all offer a definition of faith, but rather assumes one: if you have faith (defined
elsewhere), then you do the following.
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Of course, there is a negative definition of faith earlier in the verse: “faith is not to have a
perfect knowledge of things.” I see two ways to read this. On the one hand, it can be
read: “Faith is: not to have a perfect knowledge of things.” (More clearly, one could split the
infinitive: “Faith is to not have a perfect knowledge of things.”) On the other hand (since
the Book of Mormon seems at least on a few occasions to be quite unashamed of splitting
infinitives), it can be read as simply saying what faith isn’t: “Faith is not: to have a perfect
knowledge of things.” (An added phrase makes this clearer: “Faith is not the following:
to have a perfect knowledge of things.”)
Either way this is read, there is an important disconnect between faith and “perfect
knowledge.” What that disconnect amounts to remains to be worked out.
The “therefore” at the center of the verse is of much significance: the disconnect—
whatever its nature—between faith and (perfect) knowledge implies that faith is coupled
with hope. And the “therefore” would also seem to imply that wherever “perfect
knowledge” is had, “hope” is not, whether because every hope has either been dashed or
fulfilled, or whether because one dwells in undeniable despair.
Now, I’m not sure what else can be said “non-speculatively” about verse 21 (and perhaps
I’ve said quite a bit here that could be called speculative). It thus seems to me that one is
faced with a number of questions that verse 21 raises but does not answer:
(1) What is the character of the disconnect between faith and (perfect) knowledge?
(2) What is faith?
(3) What is hope?
(4) Why are faith and hope coupled, and what does that coupling have to do with the
lack of (perfect) knowledge?
It is primarily the answers that I have worked out in this chapter and elsewhere in
Alma’s discourses to questions (3) and (4) that have guided my obviously speculative
answers to questions (1) and (4). I don’t at all see how faith and hope can be justifiably
collapsed into a single term, textually or philosophically. Indeed, it is the conflation of
faith and hope in what I’ll broadly call Derridean thought (though I hardly mean to limit
it to Derrida himself: I have reference to perhaps all of Western philosophy that does not
break rigorously with him) that effectively undoes hope: I find that inasmuch as faith and
hope cannot be disentangled from one another, hope becomes despair or hope without
hope (because one believes ultimately only in death).
The scriptures on the other hand—and I mean primarily Alma, really—ties faith to the
past event of having heard the word from some angelic messenger (whether heavenly or
earthly) and gives hope as an orientation to possibility and hence to the future (even if in
the shape of the future anterior: I hope I will not have broken my arm, etc.).
Does that help?
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This is helpful. I don’t believe there’s anything I disagree with here - particularly the
critique of what might be read as a Derridean conflation of faith/hope.
25. on July 16, 2008 at 11:52 pm25 juliemariesmith
Joe writes, “the separating out of women and men is (to my knowledge also) entirely
unique to this text”
I think the same thing happens in these texts, unless I’m missing something that makes
them different from our verse here in Alma:
Ether 14:22, 31
2 Ne 9:21
Mosiah 24:22
Mosiah 27:25
Alma 30:18
Hel 1:27
3 Ne. 17:25
Ether 6:3
Ether 15:15
Moro 9:7
Julie,
I’m not sure I’ve got much of a response to you. Only two of the passages you’ve listed
are at such pains as Alma 32:23 to draw out sexual difference (Mosiah 24:22 and Alma
30:18, the latter of which deserves more thought!), but they do all at least imply it.
(Indeed, this list might be reason enough to suggest that when the Book of Mormon says
“men” or “brethren,” it really does mean “men” or “brethren”….) In other words, I had
none of these passages in mind because I was so struck by Alma’s “now this is not all”
kind of language in 32:23, whereas most of these pass over the difference so quickly,
perhaps lightly.
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Whatever should be said of these cross references, it is clear that Alma 30:18 deserves
attention. Korihor leads women, and then men astray (with much the same explicit
differentiation we find in 32:23), which is reversed in the instance of Alma 32:23. What is
to this intertextual connection?
Joe, Adam is right: your critique of the conflation of faith and hope is good, well worth
expanding. I think that the Western tradition as a whole has often conflated the two.
Doing so they have often misunderstood both.
Nevertheless, in verse 21 Alma connects the two very closely, in at least a relation of
implication: if you have faith, then you have hope. Specifically, if you have faith, then
you hope for truth that is not visible truth. (The truth revealed by interpellation?) Is Alma
conflating faith a certain kind of hope there, or is he still understanding this as only a
relation of implication? Is the relation of faith in God to hope for truth best represented
by the operator –> or by ≡ ?
My argument is that the operator -> obtains here, though it would require a bit of
argumentation, perhaps especially with reference to how Alma uses these terms
elsewhere, etc. As such, while faith and hope (and love, I would argue) cannot come
independent of one another, they are not, for that reason, the same thing. The confusion
of faith and hope (andlove, I would argue again) in Derrida is a perfect example of how
seriously far astray such a failure to disentangle can lead one.
Did Joe really just say that Derrida went “seriously far astray?” :)
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I think he did, but I’m trying to recover from shock, so until I do I won’t be able to say for
sure.
Discussion Summary - Alma 32:21-25

July 13, 2008 by Adam Miller 
Below, I’ll try to summarize some key points from last week’s discussion with the help of
an overly reductive schema. It may, I hope, help to codify the relationship between some
of the things we’ve been thinking about.
For Joe’s sake (wink) let me begin with a little bit of formalization.
1. Schema
I hypothesize (in an overly reductive way) that Alma 32 presents a series of relationships
that all have the same structure. Let’s cast this structure initially in terms of P.
There is P and there is P’.
P’ is exactly like P – except with the tiny addition of an apostrophe.
What is P? And, what’s the apostrophe?
2. First Example
Let’s start with vv24-25. Alma says:
“Now I do not desire that ye should suppose that I mean to judge you only according to
that which is true – for I do not mean that ye all of you have been compelled to humble
yourselves; for I verily believe that there are some among you who would humble
themselves.”
Here, P is “that which is true” or the fact that the Zoramite poor are necessarily humble
because of their condition.
What is P’? Alma’s belief (and it is likely important that he describes this as a “belief”)
that, even if they weren’t necessarily humble because of their poverty, some of
them would have been humble anyway.
P is the fact that they are necessarily humble. P’ is the fact that they are necessarily
humble + the “belief” that they would have been humble even if it weren’t unavoidable.
P is the present actuality, the situation or “place” in which one finds oneself. The
apostrophe indicates the addition of a subjective possibility to the way things are. Here,
subjective possibility = someone’s taking a stand about what is or might have been
possible.
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3. Second Example
Or, let’s take the difference between “compelled” humility and “true” humility (cf. v6).
v14, “And now, as I said unto you that because ye were compelled to be humble ye were
blessed, do ye not suppose that they are more blessed who truly humble themselves
because of the word?”
Let’s call compelled humility H, and true humility H’. The relationship is the same as
with P and P’. H refers to the necessity of the situation. H’ refers to one’s subjective
stance in relation to H.
(Also, as Robert notes, this subjective stance involves desire: to be truly humble is
to want your humility.)
4. Third Example
Let’s take v30 as a third example.
“But behold, as the seed swelleth, and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, then you must
needs say that the seed is good; for behold it swelleth, and sprouteth, and beginneth to
grow. And now, behold, will not this strengthen your faith? Yea, it will strengthen your
faith: for ye will say I know that this is a good seed; for behold it sprouteth and beginneth
to grow.”
Let’s say that:
the seed’s swelling = S
and “saying that the seed is swelling” = S’.
Here, the relationship is the same as with P/P’ and H/H’.

S refers to the necessity of the situation (“the seed is swelling, this is the situation/place
we’re in!”) and S’ refers to my taking a stand about S by “saying” (e.g., “bearing
testimony”) that it is swelling, unseen.
S is the autonomous (i.e., necessary or unconditional) effect of the word/grace. The

apostrophe is my “saying” as a subjective supplement to the situation, a supplement that
re-reads what appears to be compulsory as something that opens a providential
possibility.
5. Splitting Necessity into the Compulsory and the Unconditional
Let’s let X/X’ stand for all of these structurally homologous relationships.
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Both X and X’ fall under the heading of “necessity.” For instance, as Jim pointed out,
there is always something compulsory about humility. There’s not really a choice
between being humble out of necessity, being humble of one’s free will, and not being
humble. We are all perpetually in situations that compel humility and reveal our lack of
autonomy and self-sufficiency. Both X and X’ fall under the heading of necessity.
However, it is possible to experience this necessity in one of two ways. This necessity can
be experienced as “compulsion” – as in X. Or as something “unconditional” – as in X’. To
experience this necessity as a “compulsion” is to feel the sting of justice (“I can’t do it, I’m
justly judged as insufficient!”). To experience this necessity as “unconditional” is to feel
God’s mercy as extended without condition (“God is my sufficiency no matter what I
do!”).
6. Varieties of Subjective Stances
When experienced as compulsion, the necessity of humility elicits one of two subjective
stances: shame or stubborn spite. The poor experience it as shamefully exposed. The rich
experience it as something to be stubbornly hidden/cast out and despised.
When experienced as unconditional, the necessity of humility elicits the subjective
response of faith.
7. Where does “the word” fit in?
The word is God’s word. The word is God’s “saying” that the necessity of humility (X) is
in fact mercy (X’) (cf. vv13-14, v22). In short, the word is God’s subjective stance in
relation to X.
We also know that the word is a cause of humility (“more blessed are those who truly
humble themselves because of the word”). In this sense, God’s subjective stance about X
that treats it as X’ can cause us to change our relation to X’ from X.
Where does desire fit in? Because God is merciful, he desires our belief in his word (v22).
Belief is the object of desire. The word is the object of belief. The subjective operation of
desire occurs entirely in the apostrophe of X, that is in the subjunctive dimension of
possibility that supplements the situation. To have this dimension of possibility occluded
is to be like the Zoramite poor: unable to act (“what shall we do? what’s possible?”).
8. What of faith?
We’ve proposed that faith is equivalent to belief in Alma 32 (cf. v18) and that belief is
equivalent to humility without compulsion (cf. v16).
Additionally (see above), humility without compulsion is H’.
Might we say: faith is the subtraction of compulsion from the necessity of humility? The
apostrophe of X’ marks the subtraction of compulsion (the “without”) that reveals
choice/possibility in unconditional mercy?
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Or: faith is believing God’s “saying/word” that the necessity of humility is in fact the
unconditionality of mercy?
Faith is “strengthened” (cf. v30) when I am willing to “say” that what God’s word “says”
is the case.
We also know that faith entails (->?) hope in things which are not seen, which are true.
Can we read, again, “that which is true” as X and “that which is not seen” as the
subjunctive apostrophe of X’? Or, as Joe points out, mercy must “be found” (v13) because
it is precisely what is initially unseen?
9. What of knowledge?
We know that “if a man knoweth a thing he hath no cause to believe” (v18). We know
that knowing is contrasted with a relation to the word that is without stubbornness of
heart (v16). We know that faith is not a “perfect knowledge” (v21).
Hypothesis: Knowledge is X. Perfect knowledge is X2.
What is X2? X2 is the situation/place after it has been successfully transformed by the
addition of a subjective possibility (i.e., X2 is the “new world”). X2 is the realization of a
set of possibilities inherent in X’ but unapparent in X.
10. Men, Women and Children
Verse 23 enumerates men, women, and children as recipients of the word/s. Jenny notes
that men/women are grouped in opposition to children.
Here, men/women = H? Children = H’?

4 Responses to “Discussion Summary - Alma 32:21-25”
This isn’t so much a summary as a positively brilliant exposition. I’m going to have to
think about it, but at first reading I like it very much. (Is there anything left for me to
write about? I.e., “What shall become of me?”)
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I also find myself asking “What shall become of me?” And I don’t know whether I mean
to ask the same thing Jim does, but I mean to ask: Since we seem to be coming more and
more to a rather communal understanding of the chapter, how will it be possible for us to
write six differentpapers and not the same paper six times over?
I’ll mention also that what Adam describes here is precisely what I’ve tried to capture in
my matheme, with one slight (but important?) difference. Death on the matheme equals
X in Adam’s summary; the arrow equals X’; life equals X2; etc. The difference: I see, per
Hegel (et al), X as being (internally, so to speak) a dialectic, a play of two terms (telestial
and terrestrial?).
Etc.
Adam, this is brilliant, thanks.
On your final point, I would’ve thought children should be thought children would be
more like H2. Or:
By myself, I am M. With my wife, I am (or can be) M’. Similarly, my wife alone is F, but
F’ with me. Then:
M + F = MF (simply)
Whereas
M’ + F’ = M’F'C’ (M’F’ plus a supplemental child)
What I think I’m trying to point to is a two-dimensional supplementarity that you seem
to be articulating, a “horizontal” supplement (love?) and a vertical supplement (non-
compelled humility? faith in God’s word?).
Hmmm….
Is M + F a new being, C? A molecular being, to be sure, but a new being?
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The scriptures speak of the converted person–P’–as a new being. If a couple is a new
being, is it new in the same sense? Is it a being in the same sense?
Alma 32: 26–29

July 14, 2008 by jennywebb 
I hope the discussion Adam initiated last week concerning the relationships between the
key terms of this chapter will continue, as I found it very useful last week. In that vein, I
have tried to focus the majority my thoughts around exploring specific phrases and
words.
Verse 26
Alma begins “Now, as I said concerning faith—that it was not a perfect knowledge—
even so it is with my words.” We should note the introduction of his “words” to the
concept of “word/s” in the discourse. After the preceding verses in which God’s desire
(that we believe on his word) and God’s method (he imparts his words via angels), I find
it significant that Alma’s practical application of these principles is to instruct the
multitude how to come to believe in his own words. This specific identification promotes
the idea of substitutability as a quality of the word: Alma’s words may be his own, but in
sharing them he acts as a messenger from God and his words simultaneously serve as
God’s word so that God’s desire may be realized.
The second half of the verse—“Ye cannot know of their surety at first, unto perfection,
any more than faith is a perfect knowledge”—implies through the phrase “at first” that
this lack of knowledge is temporary. If the multitude will at some future point be able to
know of the surety of Alma’s words perfectly, does the same conclusion follow the
comparison to faith and perfect knowledge? Is our lack of perfect knowledge temporary?
Additionally, I find the phrase “know of a surety” here very interesting. Joe’s cross-
references were very helpful here and I would highly suggest looking through them.
Reading through them, the phrase appears to be used to express testimony related to
God’s covenants, angels, power, miracles, etc.—in other words, God’s acts and
interactions with men. The contexts often implied a ritual use of these words, which is
also worth thinking about. What is it that makes knowledge sure? That secures
knowledge? Or, reading the phrase in its entire context, what is it that secures words
themselves?
Verse 27
This verse begins by setting up a condition: if those receiving Alma’s words will awake
and arise (a possible reference to ritual actions, following v.26?), which is equivalent to
experimenting upon his words, which experiment can begin with as little as a desire to
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believe and involve letting that desire work, then they will reach a point where they will
be able to believe “enough” to give place to a portion of Alma’s words.
This conditionality is important because it casts the remainder of Alma’s discourse in

terms of individual choice. Although Alma has talked about conditionality and choice
before (for example, the “sometimes” in v.13), this is the first time where such a
conditional choice is put by Alma directly to the multitude themselves (“if ye will awake
…”). Alma has recently reiterated his understanding of the multitude’s desire as desire to
know what they should do(v.24), and his response here is the first specific action which
they can choose to do. Of course, the implications of this choice to act inevitably admit
one’s own insufficiency (as Adam has often pointed out) and hence the prior necessity of
humility.
Regarding several terms used in the verse, I would like to call our attention to our third
Key Question (what is meant by the use of the term “experiment” in Alma 32:27) and
suggest that we discuss this together, in part because my own thoughts on the subject are
far from coherent at this point.
I do think it’s worth pointing out the phrase “exercise particle of faith” in that this
description of faith seems markedly different from earlier descriptions—faith here is
conceived as something tangible, particular, and constituted. It is able to be “exercised”
by individuals, which connotes a concept of faith as utilized, held, wielded, practiced,
etc.
To help us think through the role of desire in this verse, let me observe that this is the
third appearance of desire linked with words in Alma’s discourse. In v.22 we are told
that God desires that we should believe on his word. Vv.26–27 express Alma’s desire that
those listening to him should believe his words. And v.27 also articulates the possibility
for the (humbled) subject’s desire to believe Alma’s words. The multitude’s desire has
been repeatedly identified as desire for knowledge concerning a course of action (vv.5, 9,
24). This “worldly” desire contrasts with the “heavenly” desire of God, his messenger,
and his humbled subject: they each desire the same thing, namely, “belief in his words.”
The interpretation and significance of that phrase shifts according to who is desiring, but
the overall result is the same—that the unbeliever may believe on the word/s.
Alma also tells the humbled subject what to do with his/her desire: “let this desire work
in you.” Is it significant that desire here is active, and apparently active on its own merit
(merely be being desire)? How does desire “work” in someone? What work is
accomplished? Does the result—believing “in a manner that ye can give place for a
portion of my words”—describe the work in some way? The act of giving place implies a
removal of one’s self, an allowing that might be recognized as humility enacted. Again,
humility is both a necessary and negating action (in the sense the self removes its illusion
of self-sufficiency).
**My apologies for the tardy and partial post—I will have the remainder up later today**
It’s up now. Thanks for your patience.
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Verse 28
“Now, we will compare the word unto a seed”: how do we understand “word” here?
Why the shift from “my words” in v.27 to “the word” here? Alma’s previous discourse
has seemed at times somewhat disjointed—perhaps tangential or deferring is a better
description. Alma has been unable to sustain a direct answer to the question of “what
shall we do?” That changes, however, with the introduction of this comparison, which
will sustain the remainder of the chapter. Perhaps there is something inherent in the
structure of metaphor or parable that allows for a sustained approach?
Note that the word/seed will remain as long as the humbled subject remains humbled—
God will not remove the word/seed, but the humbled subject take actions that will cast it
out: unbelief (which seems it should be as complex a concept as belief/faith, and would
be interesting to explore) and resisting the Spirit of the Lord (which I see as echoing v.16
“stubbornness of heart”).
If the opposite choice is made—belief and accepting the Spirit of the Lord—the result is
the swelling of the word/seed. While much of Alma’s discourse centers on faith, it
appears that the power of faith simultaneously implies a relationship with the Spirit of
the Lord (who is this?), a spirit which appears to aid the swelling of the word/seed.
Regarding the word/seed “begin[ing] to swell within your breasts” and the “swelling
motions” felt, I find it interesting that Alma specifically does not begin with the sprouting
and growth of the word/seed. Instead, he follows the biology of seed growth rather
explicitly: before they sprout, seeds absorb water and swell, which activates their
capacity for growth. But this growth will not occur until v.30; growth apparently can’t
actually begin until after the subject, in response to the swollen word/seed, begins to
recognize the word/seed as good.
(As a side note, I see this swelling as subtly referencing a physical, embodied subject [it
takes place in the breast and is felt—conditions which may be metaphor, but still require
embodiment to understand].)
Alma presents both the swelling and the initial subjective response (recognizing the
word/seed as good) as unconditional: they will happen, provided the previous condition
(not casting it out) is met. The reasons for recognizing the word/seed as good are
phrased to emphasize the way in which the subject is acted upon by the word/seed:
for it beginneth to enlarge my soul;

yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding,
yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.
If the consequences for giving place to the word/seed and not casting it out are
unconditional, it follows that the subject will be acted upon by the word/seed and hence
must be previously prepared to receive those actions. Again, Alma’s prior emphasis on
humility as necessary comes into play in that only the humbled subject may be acted
upon by the word/seed—any pride of self-preservation casts out the word/seed and
voids the process.
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Verse 29
Alma’s analysis appears straightforward—“Now behold, would not this increase your
faith?”—and yet I’m not sure it’s necessarily that clear. How does a recognition of the
word/seed as good increase faith? Does the verb here indicate that faith is a quantifiable,
measurable, object? Is faith only quantifiable when it is examined in its particularity,
either particularity of situation or particularity of relation (i.e., a specific person’s faith in
a specific thing)?
The second sentence—“nevertheless, it hath not grown up to a perfect knowledge” again

returns us to the questions in v.26 regarding our apparently temporary lack (and
therefore ultimate gain) of perfect knowledge. Although we would expect the phrase
“grown up” to apply to the word/seed given v.28, Alma actually applies it to faith itself.
Does this then create a third layer to the concept of the word/seed, so that it’s actually
the word/seed/faith? If so, does the end result of matured faith being perfect knowledge
imply a parallel between perfect knowledge and the ultimate result of the word/seed
(i.e., the tree with its pure fruit)?
Final Thought (just one, I promise)
Working through these verses this week I spent a fair amount of time thinking through
the relationship between faith and knowledge. I’m wondering if it might be useful to
think of it in terms of process. Is there something essential saving about having
faith before knowledge—about the process of receiving the word, giving it place,
recognizing it as good—as opposed to simply starting with the knowledge in the first
place? Perhaps because there is something vital about faith itself? Not to jump ahead, but
when perfect knowledge in a specific thing is reached (v.34), notice that faith does not
cease to exist, but is simply dormant. Faith may not be active, but its power and strength
are still there. The end point is the same—perfect knowledge—but the difference is
whether one reaches that point with faith intact.

19 Responses to “Alma 32: 26–29”
As usual, great stuff, Jenny. I have a few things to add, but there’s little to disagree with
in your analysis. But (of course) I wouldn’t be a philosopher if I couldn’t find something to
disagree with.
Verse 26: It is odd that Alma introduces this sermon with a disclaimer: just as you cannot
have a perfect knowledge of the things of God at first, you also cannot, from the
beginning, have a perfect understanding of what I say. Faith is not perfect knowledge,
and you cannot understand perfectly what I say about faith (at least not at first).
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Verse 27: The verse begins with the contrastive “but,” making explicit that the
conditional which follows is the alternative to not having perfect knowledge.
Does Alma cast this in terms of individual choice? That question has two prongs: “Is it
individual?” and “Is it choice?”
We must give place for the seed—which is the phrase around which I will probably center
my September essay—in other words, we must be open to receiving the seed. That
doesn’t sound individualistic to me. Rather, it is something that happens between myself
and at least one other, the One who plants the seed. It also is a choice only in the sense in
which any act is a choice, and this act is the least act-like of any, it is being-open-to rather
than doing-something. Indeed, it seems to me that being hard hearted, not being open, is
more of an act than is being open. In other words, it seems to me that being hard hearted
is clearly the act of an individual while being open to the word is more like ceasing to act,
letting go. As I read verse 28, it emphasizes this “passive” character of the experiment: it
is something that I allow to happen to me: “let this desire work in you.”
Almost all of the Webster’s 1828 definitions of “exercise” circle around the words “use”
and “practice.” I wonder, however, whether “particle” had for early nineteenth-century
the materialistic meaning which it has for us. Webster’s definitions have more to do with
minuteness than they do with physicality, though the latter is not absent. My suspicion is
that we associate “particle” closely with materiality because of developments in mid- to
late-nineteenth century and twentieth-century physics. If so, then that may cloud our
reading of the verse.
In terms of the metaphor that Alma is explicating, it seems that “delicious” comes too
early. If there is, as yet, no fruit, what does it mean to say that the seed begins to be
delicious?
What do we make of the fact that Alma switches from the second person—you allow the
seed to be planted; it will swell in your breasts—to the first: “it beginneth to enlarge my
soul [. . .] to enlighten my understanding [. . .] to be delicious to me.” This is especially
interesting in light of the fact that he switches back to second person in verse 29.
Jim, I think you raise some important points—please disagree rather regularly because I
definitely need to think through these things further! Regarding the switch from second
person to first person in v.28, I wonder if it’s helpful to also recognize that the beginning
of the verse contains the chapter’s only first person plural: “Now, we will compare.” And
that that 1st p. pl. follows a progression from “I” in v.26 to “Ye” in v.27. It seems like
Alma is possibly trying to demonstrate his similarity/solidarity/brotherhood with his
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audience, and perhaps the switch back and forth between first and second person in the
latter half of the verse reflects that possibility?
Re: “If there is, as yet, no fruit, what does it mean to say that the seed begins to be
delicious?” That’s really interesting. I hadn’t thought about it before, but I wonder if we
might think about taste as a type or symbol of knowledge. In other words, the seed
begins to be delicious precisely because it begins to be known? Because in being tasted, it
is discernible?
I think your critique of “particle” is correct. In fact, my notes have the phrase “talk to
Nick about light and wave/particle identity” (he’s a physicist) scribbled down next to the
word “particular.” Which would seem to indicate a reading affected by latter
understanding of physics. :) That said, I think there’s enough evidence in Webster’s 1828
to support reading “particle” in terms of minuteness as you suggest, but where the
minute is still matter or part of a greater whole.
Also, as a side note, it’s interesting to read “particle of faith” in light of the “portion of
my words” which ends the verse in that each seem to indicate that what one starts with
in the experiment is not something complete, but something partial.
Finally, regarding giving place, I see the choice not to act itself (not to cast out the
word/seed) as more of an individual choice or act than you do. I’m seeing it as an act
simply because it seems like Alma has repeatedly emphasized the conditional nature of
this decision—which I read as implying that many, perhaps the majority, choose to act by
hardening their hearts against the word. In other words, that the natural choice, the easy
choice, the choice that many make, is one of action. If that is the case, then it seems like
there would be some type of conscious effort required to remain open to the word
through humble passivity—an effort directed at not acting. Perhaps.
Jenny, thanks for writing “particular” when you meant (I think) to write “particle,”
because that (rather obvious) linguistic connection had not occurred to me: minuteness,
yes, but locality, abstraction, systemic inclusion, etc., would also seem to be implied by
“particle.”
Regarding the theme of “place,” I’ve been more and more struck by its prevalence here.
Perhaps this is primarily because I’ve spent a good part of the last week studying
Mallarme’s Un coup de des in detail (and I’ll be at it for another few weeks), with its
concluding “Nothing will have taken place but the place . . . except, perhaps, a
constellation.” Subjectivity and the giving of place . . . .
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Regarding the first/second person shifts: am I misunderstanding, or is it as simple as
each shift is introduced by a “ye will begin to say within yourselves” (v. 28) or a “then
you must needs say that” (v. 30)?
Now, to get back to Jenny’s actual post!
I’m especially enjoying two aspects of your comments this week, Jenny: all the questions
you are raising about subjectivity in this experience, and your ruminations about what
verses 26-29 on the whole imply about the relationship between faith and knowledge. Let
me make a few comments about the second theme and then let that guide me back to a
few comments about the first.
I think the problematic reading of the relationship, which is perhaps the most common
reading as well, is to see faith and knowledge as being on a continuum (on a “divided
line”): faith is just imperfect knowledge, knowledge is just perfected faith. It is perhaps
the word “perfect” as always attached to “knowledge” in these verses that leads us in
that direction, but I’ve begun, I think, to strike on another way of reading that couple. In
fact, the more I’ve been looking at verses 21-29 all together, the more I’ve begun to
wonder whether “perfect” in “perfect knowledge” is less a marker of the completeness of
the knowledge to which it attaches than a marker of the kind of knowledge to which it
attaches. That is, “perfect knowledge” might be understood to be “scientific knowledge”
or “empirical knowledge,” the kind of “knowledge” that is whole in and of itself.
If this is a move in the right direction, then verse 21 might be understood to be Alma’s
clarification that faith must not be understood to be (1) scientific knowledge itself, nor (2) a kind
of parallel, “spiritual” knowledge. But if verse 21 marks a complete division between the
categories of faith and knowledge, verse 26 comes back (”Now, as I said concerning
faith…”) to point out that faith and knowledge are not for that reason completely
unrelated: the “at first” of verse 26 shows that faith somehow leads to (perfect)
knowledge.
What I see happening, in other words, is this: faith and knowledge must not be taken to
fall under the same kind of category (verse 21), but they nonetheless have a very specific
relationship to each other (verse 26). (This two-point argument is, quite nicely, hung on
the introduction of the event and the split of the one into two of verse 23.) Alma’s words
call for a thinking of the non-continuous relationship between faith and knowledge.
This clarification, I think, avoids two common but dangerous readings of Alma 32. On
the one hand, these verses are often read as suggesting that faith is just imperfect
scientific knowledge, something Talmage left to us in the missionary library. But Alma
seems pretty distinctly in verse 21 to dispel the “continuum theory.” On the other hand,
these verses are sometimes read as suggesting that faith and knowledge are completely
different but essentially parallel things, that faith is spiritual knowledge, and that
knowledge is visual/scientific faith. But this, I think, is dismissed in verse 26 when Alma
suggests that faith is at the root of any development of perfect knowledge.
But if the two “easy” readings of the text are thus dismissed, we’ve got difficult work to
do: what is the relationship between faith and knowledge? And I think most of your
comments this week are hitting on the answer: the relationship between them is entirely
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a question of the subject. Inasmuch as faith is subjective (indeed, so subjective that it calls
for the Book of Mormon’s onlyaffirmation of sexual difference!), it differs entirely from
scientific knowledge, which is overtly objective. But, as Alma goes on to explain the
experiment at such length, it is only through subjective fidelity to an event/advent of the
word that knowledge can get anywhere. Without the intervention of a faithful subject,
knowledge would remain within certain dialectical limits, looping on a circuit out of
which it cannot break (as objective). Inasmuch as knowledge isobjective, and inasmuch as
truth is universal and unconditional, then knowledge of the truth has got to be worked
out by the intervention of faithful subjects who have experienced/experimented on the
evental word, the truth of which is never on display (things which are not seen, but
which are true), but which must be faithfully proclaimed or preached.
The angelic event/encounter results in the emergence of a subject whose entire

subjectivity is grounded in fidelity to that event and the word introduced there, and that
subject then forces knowledge to change by offering a translation/typologization of what
is already written up in the encyclopedias or books of knowledge, etc.
Hence, as you point out, faith never disappears, but only goes to sleep, and then only in
that thing: fidelity will be as infinite as thought.
Indeed, infinite: inasmuch as the word here will turn out to be the Word, there will always
remain something unnameable that makes thought (the interplay of faith and knowledge
and so the work of the subject) infinite.
1. I think the active/passive discussion between Jenny and Jim is very interesting, and
can be productively thought in light of Joe’s withoutthoughts (e.g., something like: Faith
is something hard to describe and rather counterintutive—it is mostly passive, but
requires a kind of active passivity, “effort without effort” as Derrida or Caputo might put
it. So, rather than simply explain what you need to do, let me first challenge your
presuppositions as to what you think you cannot do, and challenge what you might
think faith is, before explaining to you in positive, metaphorical terms, what faith is…). I
also think Alma’s negative theological method is a good way to think through the faith-
works issues since they are typically thought merely in an either/or dialectic which Alma
seems to be wanting to move beyond (either I save myself by my works, or God saves me
without any involvement or effort on my part).
Regarding Alma’s “negative theological method”: He starts off with those negative
rhetorical questions in vv. 9-11 (”cannot worship,” “only once a week”) and then declares
an emphatic “nay” in v. 18 that sign-seeking is not faith, and then defines faith in
negative terms (not perfect knowledge, and hope for thingsnot seen), and then echoes this
in v. 26. Also, the yea/nay pattern in the chapter(s) is still nagging at me—something
important is surely going on here. There are 7 yeah’s in this chapter (vv. 1, 3, 5, 15, 15, 16,
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17) followed by a nayin verse 18, then 10 more yeah’s (vv. 22, 23, 27, 28, 28, 29, 30, 31, 34,
35) followed by a nay in verse 36. The seven and ten pattern of yeah’s punctuated by nay’s
strikes me as likely more than just coincidence (there are, however, 2 “perplexing” yeah’s
following the nay in verse 36 in this chapter that I’m not sure what to make of; also, I
briefly did some counting in surrounding chapters and nothing strikes me as significant:
19 yeah’s in ch. 30, 9 yeah’s in ch. 31, 7 yeah’s in ch. 33—which could be taken as
significant since this chapter break does seem to make at least some sense…). Much more
could and should on Alma’s negative methodology (and surely has—I remember Joe
posted quite a bit on this topic at the wiki, regarding v. 16 if I remember, that is well
worth reading), esp. as it pertains to the way I think he employs it to move beyond
easily-fallen-into, dichotomous ways of thinking.
2. Regarding Jim’s “delicious” question, I think that the phrasing of the description is
important: “enlarges the soul” in verse 28 seems much more than a neutral description.
I’m not sure what to make of this, but I think it’s important that the growth itself is
delicious/desirable, not just the fruit. I think this description should also be compared
(structurally as well as thematically) to the enlightened understanding and expanding
mind described in verse 34.
Also, I think this is an interesting and important issue to think about because in other
scriptural tree-fruit metaphors, there is a difference between sweet and bitter fruit, and
Alma is clearly taking this in a significantly different direction (the bitterness seems to be
displaced by the question of whether the seed grows and enlarges the soul).
3. Amen to Joe’s distinguishing between faith and knowledge as working in different

realms—and amen to Jenny’s comment about faith increasing, not just the seed growing
(a pet peeve of mine is when someone triumphantly corrects the common misreading
that the seed is the word, not faith—but then fails to appreciate this more subtle
similarity between faith and the word that Jenny has noted here…).
I’ve wondered about these issues (how faith and knowledge relate and in what sense
they “grow”) especially in light of the “line upon line” teaching in Isaiah that shows up
in 2 Ne 28:30 and D&C 128:21. Avraham Gileadi has an interesting reading of this (in his
introductory chapter to his translation of Isaiah) where he contrasts a linear, incremental,
secular way of learning with the sudden, instantaneous, revelatory way that wisdom is
(often) described as coming. I’m not sure I buy his argument, but I think he raises an
important question, and I esp. like that he’s calling into question the economic way that
we think about learning, that it comes systematically and in direct proportion to our
effort, or something.
This is another way, I think, to get at the passive aspect of “gaining knowledge” without
ignoring the sense in which we have a role in this taking place—something that the seed
analogy does so well (scare quotes on “gaining knowledge” b/c I think it’s very
interesting that the seed grows and faith increases, but knowledge is never explicitly said
to increase in this chapter—and, in fact, I think it’s somewhat conspicuous that
unconditional perfect knowledge is never actually described as being attained in this
chapter; rather, it is only alluded to metaphorically via the fruit…). I think the natural
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analogy of the seed is apt in this sense b/c it disrupts any economic way of thinking—
growth is not technological, but subject to the whims of nature’s grace.
4. Regarding the swelling vs. sprouting, I don’t want to detract from Jenny’s insight
which I’d never considered before (that seeds swell before sprouting), but I’ve just
realized that I think I’ve been radically misreading verses 30-36ish previously. I’ve
thought that the swelling comes first, and this isn’t considered perfect knowledge (even
“in that thing”), but that the perfect knowledge “in that thing” comes later after the seed
not merely swells, but also sprouts (I’ve mentioned this before in terms of an implicit
public-private distinction going on here).
But now I think it makes more sense to read verses 30-36ish as a restatement of what’s
going on in verse 28, and that the addition of the sprouting to the swelling is an
elaboration rather than a continuation of what’s described in v. 28. I’m still trying to
make sense of this new way of reading this, but at the least I think it points toward
against making too strong of a distinction between the swelling and sprouting (not to
deny that their order is important and indeed follows the biological sequence…).
5. Thanks, Jenny, for pointing to the “awake and arouse” phrasing. These are such
important terms elsewhere (well, “awake” and “arise” at least), esp. in the small plates (2
Nephi 1:13-14, 23 and Jacob 3:11, which also uses the rare “arouse,” particularly come to
mind) that I think this deserves much more attention. Interestingly, Alma does not seem
to use this terminology elsewhere in his sermons.
The richness of these terms sets in motion another slew of reckless, mostly intertextual
thoughts for me. For now I’ll only say that I think the seed metaphor seems an esp. apt
way to think about the already-but-not-yet “tension” in Paul, and all of the eschatological
and rebirth issues directly and tangentially related to that (esp. as “parallely” addressed
in the small plates…).
6. Joe #3, I really like these thoughts. Your comments seem very much in the spirit of
many of Adam’s thoughts in his “Testimony and Atonement” essay. Am I wrong to see
you as basically thinking in that vein? If so, can you explain. If not, can you point to
where you think you might be saying substantially new or different? (I don’t mean for
this to sound like criticism that your thoughts aren’t new, I’m just trying to sort out what
you and Adam are and aren’t saying—I have a tendency to generalize and miss nuances
of thought….)
“Minute” definitely means “in comparison to a greater whole,” but I’m still not fond of
the interpretation of minute in terms of material. The connection of “particle of faith” and
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“portion of my words” is important given Alma’s parallel between faith and his words in
verse 26.
Jenny’s point about “delicious” is excellent: I can already taste—foretaste—the fruit as

the seed swells in me. Which reminds me that her insight about the swelling seed is, as
Robert points out, also brilliant.
I think that Joe is right: I was simply not reading well when I made something of the
move from second to first person.
However, more of the curmudgeon:
I think that Joe’s use of the terms “scientific knowledge” and “empirical knowledge” is
anachronistic, so his discussion of subjective and objective knowledge is also. I think that
way of speaking uses assumptions about faith and knowledge that we often use when we
think about these verses, the assumptions of scientific discourse—whether we think, as
many do, that “perfect knowledge” is either the same as or like scientific knowledge or
whether we disagree with that way of seeing things.
The question we have to think about is: What kind of knowledge would Alma have in
mind in a Hebrew culture that had been separated from its mother culture for about 300
years? Obviously any answer to that question is mostly speculative. So, let me speculate:
Yda, the divine knowledge of which Adam and Eve partook when they ate the fruit of the
Tree of Knowledge, is sexual knowledge, moral knowledge, intellectual knowledge,
social knowledge, and other forms of knowledge, but in each case it refers to knowledge
that is part and parcel of some intimate relation. When God brings a lawsuit against
Israel for breaking its covenant in Hoseah 4:1, he says that Israel has no faithfulness (emt)
or loyalty (hsd) to God and no knowledge (yda) of him. Wouldn’t perfect knowledge be
the completion—the adequation—of the knowledge of God? In other words, wouldn’t it
be the completion of an intimate relation to him?
By the way, the word for perfect in the OT, tmm meant, originally, “complete,” but is
used mostly in the OT for ethical relations: the perfect heart (e.g., Psalms 78:72). Also the
right decision (e.g., Judges 9:16, where it is translated “sincerely”). I assume that
something like this is still the meaning for Alma.
So, perhaps a continuum (which need not be a Platonic divided line) is the right way to
think about faith and knowledge after all: faith is hope for the fulfillment of loving
relation to God. Such hope can grow, gradually (i.e., along a continuum), until it comes
to fulness.
On this reading, which is more in line with what I think most readers have understood
(but which is not, because of that, more likely—after all, Joe is right that most readers
make the mistake of thinking this is a text about how to gain something like scientific
knowledge), verse 21 tells us that to have faith is not yet to be related to God intimately,
but it is to hope for that relation.
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However, contra Joe (my apologies that I seem to be on an anti-Joe kick recently—it isn’t
personal; perhaps it is a repressed anti-Badiou kick), if knowledge of God is intimacy—
love—then it is not entirely a question of the subject. It occursbetween subjects. (In an anti-
symmetrical relation, as Badiou points out.) Indeed, in love my subjectivity is called into
question and sometimes (often?) disappears.
When verse 34 speaks of our faith being dormant “in that thing,” isn’t the “that thing”
the word? I think that the common interpretation, which takes the experiment to be on
each question I might have about the gospel, is wrong. The experiment is an experiment
on only one thing: the question has been, “Is the word good?” and the answer is, finally,
“Yes,” so faith that it is good becomes dormant when the seed matures into a tree. If we
compare it to a seed now, then we have to compare it to one that is not swelling. Why?
Because the seed of faith that we planted grew into a tree that bore the fruit of life, into
the Tree if Life.
I would be very interested in seeing a follow-up on Joe’s-Robert’s insight that Alma uses
a negative rhetorical methodology. (Is that a negative theological method? I’m not so
sure.)
I find it interesting that Alma portrays us as being asleep. To awaken is to awaken to a

call: Awake! But he says “arouse your faculties” rather than “arise,” Which would be
merely a repetition of “awake,” a hendiadys. Rather, once we are awakened, he
commands us to do something, namely to arouse our faculties, to stir our powers of
action into performing. Aristotelian theories of perception assumed that perception was
something like wakefulness or opening one’s eyes: sleep is the absence of perception, to
awaken is to perceive. However, Alma doesn’t think in that way. He sees our abilities to
perceive and act as something that we must goad or encourage.
I’m not sure if this is what Joe meant, but I read him as trying to distinguish between
knowledge obtained by faith (i.e., subjective knowledge) vs. knowledge obtained as a
sign sought (i.e., objective knowledge).
Regarding the distinction (raised on the previous thread, I think) between faith and
knowledge, it seems the “only believeth” in v. 19 is a good argument for thinking of
belief (at least) and knowledge on some sort of continuum.
On the other hand, I do think the “faith is dormant” phrasing in v. 34 is peculiar and
suggests that a simple continuum view is too simplistic. Sign-sought knowledge vs.
knowledge obtained with dormant faith somewhere lurking in the background—I think at
least this kind of a non-continuum conception between faith and knowledge is justified,
at least in trying to think through the chapter as a whole….
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Robert, I think you’d have to explain a bit more how you see my thoughts in #3 matching
up with Adam’s in “Atonement and Testimony” before I can even be sure what it is
you’re asking me to explain.
Anachronistic, yes. I agree with that (so we can say that I’m on just as much an “anti-Joe
kick” as you, Jim :) ). But I should state that I think I’m trying to be anachronistic (in the
sense Jim describes) for at least two reasons:
(1) The details—particularly theological—of the Korihor narrative are remarkably

anachronistic. It seems to me that in an important sense there is a departure from
Hebrew ways of thinking with the sudden emergence of Korihor’s doctrines. Which is to
say that while there is likely good reason to find continuity between, say, Benjamin’s
teachings and what one finds in Old Testament tradition, I wonder whether that method
is quite as appropriate after Alma 30.
(2) I would hope that I’m reading forward from the text rather than backward into the
text. That is, I don’t intend to take current categories and read the text through them so
much as I intend to approach current categories through the text, like reading Freud
through Paul’s discussions of death and the psychical man in 1 Corinthians. As Robert
points out, I see the bridge between Alma 32 and current categories as being primarily
rooted in the important place given to signs in the text: Korihor’s and then the Zoramites’
understanding of signs would suggest that there is good reason to draw on Alma’s
teachings in order to think current categorization.
But beyond these “justifications,” I should also clarify that when I say “subject” or
“subjectivity,” I do not at all have reference to anything in the Cartesian tradition, but
rather to Badiou’s (in my opinion definitive) break with that tradition (that is, I see
Badiou as perhaps the only significant philosopher who has broken with Cartesian
subjectivity and yet still argued coherently that there is something that must be called a
subject). And of course, for Badiou, the subject is only a subject due to the insuperable
between of subjects that it names (”love”). To translate everything I’ve said about
subjects or subjectivity into the Cartesian tradition, one would have to replace each
instance with some form of the word “gifted” in the sense that Marion uses it.
In other words, I was likely speaking with something of a private language. Or, because I
was responding to Jenny, who is familiar with Badiou, I was assuming a language game
that not everyone has been playing. (And that would mean that Jim’s “anti-Joe kick”
really is a repressed anti-Badiou kick. :) )
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All of this is to say that I’m not sure I see the text supporting the weight of a Hebraic
reading. Knowledge seems too tied to things visual throughout the text to go that far. But
I would love to see a consistent argument otherwise…
Thank you, Jenny. This is good stuff.
Joe writes, “so subjective that it calls for the Book of Mormon’s only affirmation of sexual
difference.” What are you thinking about here?
Robert, I love your observation about the yeas and nays.
A few thoughts:
–”Now, we will compare the word unto a seed.” This seems so explicit; so “parables for
dummies” if you will. I suppose it is just a response to the spiritual immaturity (or lack of
experience) of the people. But does this affect how we approach the rest of this discourse?
Is it inappropriate then to look for deep meaning/structure/nuance/etc. in a speech that
is meant to be milk and not meat?
–On the issue of delicious: this is the only such use in scripture. (Rev. has two
“deliciously”s but in a different context, although it is presumed to come from a root
meaning ” excessive strength which longs to break forth” which would be interesting in
Alma’s context.) Webster’s 1828 has about what you’d expect for the first definition, but
the second is “most pleasing to the mind.” I don’t think the word is used that way at all
today. Are we better off thinking of (physical) foretaste or are we better off thinking that
the swelling pleases the mind? “Pleasing the mind” is almost problematic itself–I would
think that things that please the mind might be carnal or earthly; mind-pleasing as a
metric for “good” is interesting, to say the least. On the other hand, if we go with the
physical foretaste, that’s intriguing because it means that you have to have faith that the
fruit will actually grow and will be delicious. We’ve come full circle. I’m reminded of
how you can salivate at the mere smell or even mention of good food because of your
past experiences with it; is that what Alma is analogizing here?
–I am curious about the word “faculties.” There are a few other BoM usages; no KJV
biblical ones. Webster has “that power of the mind or intellect which enables it to receive,
revive or modify perceptions” and I wonder how that works when Jacob tells them to
“arouse the faculties of your souls” and what the idea of mind/intellect inherent in
“faculty” might be able to teach us about Alma’s process of gaining faith/knowledge.
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–Combining my two thoughts above: if ‘delicious’ means ‘mind pleasing’ and ‘faculty’
points to powers of the intellect, then we have two data points suggesting that Alma
highly values the human mind, which is exactly what I would not have expected from a
discourse on faith.
Joe, regarding your comments and Adam’s paper:
In rereading your comment #3 and skimming back over Adam’s article, I think I’m
simply seeing the common and deep Badiouian structure in your comments and Adam’s
article as it pertains to an articulation of faith and knowledge. Roughly, you both are
arguing that faith is fidelity to an event, in contrast to the known effects that follow from
this kind of fidelity. Faith, then,changes or generates what “will have been known.”
Adam says, I believe, that sign-seeking is like mistaking love for the signs of love.
Conflating the knowledge and faith, or even to put the two on the same continuum, then
risks killing the goose of faith in a misguided attempt to obtain the golden eggs of
knowledge.
It’s when I translate both what you’ve said (in the last few paragraphs in comment #3)
and what Adam wrote (in his “Testimony and Atonement” article) back into the
language of Alma 32 (faith, knowledge and signs) that I see you both making the same
core move at stucturing the interrelationships.
One last (sloppy) attempt at re-stating/translating this “core move” that I still have only
a vague sense of—trying to articulate a version of it will help me see what I’m seeing and
not seeing clearly: To seek for a sign is to seek for something “static,” to misunderstand
that faith is what determines what will have been true. I think the tendency is to think
about this situation technologically: show me that the gadget works first, then I’ll be
motivated to learn how it works. The problem is that once the signs of the gadget are
shown to work, then the possibility for understanding how to make the gadget work is
spoiled. Faith is what makes the gadget work (i.e., what generates the signs), and seeing
these signs leaves no “space” left over for faith to be cultivated.
I’ll stop now….
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Julie, we’ve been discussing this question of sexual difference a bit on last week’s thread.
But I’ll add this here by way of clarification: I mean that the subjectivity caused by the
event, according to verse 23, is always a gendered subjectivity. I’m having fun playing
around with this on the matheme: neither/nor in Latin is ne-uter, that is, neuter, such that
there is no sexual difference in light of death; only life can split the one into two, and that
is dependent on the angelic encounter, etc.
Thanks very much, by the way, for the Webster’s second definition of delicious! Very,
very helpful.
Robert, I think you’re right: Adam and I are doing much the same thing here.
Everyone:
I feel like I ought to say something about my relationship to Badiou, since he seems to be
coming up a great deal more in our discussions than I had anticipated at the beginning. I
am not a philosopher who reads scripture, but a student of the scriptures who reads philosophy. In
some ways, I hope I never write a(nother) paper in philosophy in my life: my work is in
scriptural interpretation. I actually turned to philosophy only because I found that (only)
philosophers had asked the kinds of questions that needed to be asked to work out the
meanings of passages of scripture that I had long wrestled with, etc. And that means that:
I do not come to the scriptures through Badiou; rather, I’ve become so fascinated by
Badiou because he says philosophically what I’ve been saying and teaching in scriptural
terms for years. And in many ways, odd as this might sound, reading him has allowed
me to get back to some things I had long since learned in the scriptures but had had to set
aside when I became embroiled in phenomenology. (Of course, as Adam’s book makes
clear, one can only really come to Badiou after phenomenology, so I won’t say that my
foray into phenomenology has been bad! In fact, I’m convinced that Marion’s
understanding of phenomenology more or less redeems it from its Cartesian entrapment
and allows it to be what Badiou is doing without phenomenology. So don’t take my
words as too harsh an indictment of phenomenology!)
At any rate, I don’t know whether my little confession/clarification here is just a

manifestation of insecurity or what, but it did seem worth saying: Badiou is helpful, but
only, at least for me, after having read scripture very carefully.
Great, great, discussion this week.
First, two apologies:
1. My apologies for so persuasively introducing Joe to Badiou. (It should be noted,

however, if I remember correctly, that Jim is largely responsible for introducing Joe to
philosophy in general and phenomenology in particular.)
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2. My apologies for so unpersuasively introducing Jim to Badiou :)
Second, some scattered comments.
1. Julie writes:
‘”Now, we will compare the word unto a seed.” This seems so explicit; so “parables for
dummies” if you will. I suppose it is just a response to the spiritual immaturity (or
lack of experience) of the people. But does this affect how we approach the rest of this
discourse? Is it inappropriate then to look for deep meaning/structure/nuance/etc. in a
speech that is meant to be milk and not meat?’
I’m less inclined to think about the deployment of metaphor in the second half of the
chapter in terms of a difference between “meat” (meaning: the thing itself?) and “milk”
(meaning: something more initially accessible substituted for the thing itself).
It may be the case that Alma’s “poetic” elaboration of faith plays an essential (rather than
accidental) relation to the subject being discussed such that faith requires a “poetic” rather
than literal elaboration.
If the experience of faith is going to (as Jim has said) introduce us to a new world, then
the “literal” resources of the old world won’t in themselves be sufficient. Alma, working
with the language at hand, will have to poetically bend language in order to open a new
experience of that world.
Maybe.
2. Great point, Jenny, about how consistently “desire” is tied to the “word.”
Also, great point about the apparent semi-autonomy of desire as something that
“works in us” or as something in relation to which we have a somewhat “passive” stance.
In this light, the “let this desire work in you” of v27 resonates for me with the “give place
that a seed may be planted in your heart” in v28. I don’t see the word and desire as here
identical, but as similar in a crucial way:
Both the “word” and “desire” are a kind of foreign body located inside of us.
They are both things that are “in us” in the most intimate possible way, even as they
remain “other than us.”
In other words, the word and desire are both “ex-timate” (external + intimate). This
experience of finding something other than ourselves at the center of who we are is
quintessentially religious and is, I think, central to the experience of humility.
What’s the connection to humility? What could be more humbling than finding that we
are not ourselves, that the desires working in us have some autonomy from us, that in
our hearts is a word that is not our own?
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The “natural” reaction to such a state of affairs is to want to reclaim ourselves and get that
thing out! (What’s more terrifying than that scene from Alien when the creature bursts
right out of the guy’s cavity!?) This is where faith requires restraint, a kind of “giving
place,” a “letting” the thing that is not me grow in me.
But if we can refrain from shame and fear and disgust, we’ll find that as the thing swells
(and, in a sense, pushes us farther and farther from the center ofourselves as it swells -
perhaps eventually pushing us right outside of ourselves) that this foreign body is
“good” and that it opens a space for “truth.”
Or something like that :)
3. A note about the antiphonal structure of these passages: a kind of call/response

pattern develops over v28ff. We get Alma saying:
“ye will begin to say within yourselves . . .” (v28)

“now . . . I say unto you . . .” (v29)
“you must needs say that . . .” (v30)
“ye will say . . . ” (v30)
“now . . . I say unto you . . .” (v31)
Apropos of Joe comments about subjectivity, I take these passages to be absolutely

central to what Alma is describing here about faith. I don’t understand them to simply be
a kind of rhetorically useful personification of thoughts and feelings. In what way?
I’m skipping ahead a touch here, but (taking license from the fact that the pattern begins
in this week’s verses) I think that what I have in mind is especially apparent in v30:
“But behold, as the seed swelleth, and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, then you must
needs say that the seed is good . . . And now, behold, will not this strengthen your faith?
Yea, it will strengthen your faith: for ye will say I know that this seed is a good seed.”
What is the antecedent for the “this” that will strengthen your faith? I think the
antecedent is not the swelling. The antecedent is the “saying that the seed is good.” Alma
is, in fact, quite emphatic about this. You “must needs say,” otherwise nothing will have
happened (even if it did happen, even if it did swell in your breast!).
Alma also immediately repeats this point in the second half of the verse and explicitly
adds the logical connector “for”:
‘. . . it will strengthen your faith, for [because!] ye will say: ‘I know . . .’
In this sense, the “saying” (the “bearing testimony”) is the hinge on which the entire
“experiment” turns. The desire has a kind of autonomy. The word has a kind of
autonomy. The word will swell if we just passively “let” it - unless we actively cast it out.
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But the absolutely essential subjective contribution required on our part is that we must
say that the word has swelled. In short, we must give voice to the word that is in us,
speak it, bear testimony of it, etc. even though the word (being in us) remains unseen.
My hypothesis: the connection between “faith” and the “word” is that we will have had
faith when we ourselves say the word.
4. A final apology: sorry about all the italics!
v.28, “. . . it must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it
beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it
beginneth to be delicious to me.”
Is this a description, from the inside out, of what it is like to be constituted as a (new)
subject, a subject interpellated by the (new) word in such a way as to be given a (new)
world in which it is once again possible to act?
If, in the preceding comment, the constitution of a new “man” or subject is being
described by “the enlargement of the soul and the enlightening of the understanding,”
it’s interesting that it is precisely this that qualifies the word/seed as “good.”
What is “good”? The process of interpellating a new subject.
Further, it’s interesting that Alma earlier in v28 states: “. . . if it be a true seed, or a good
seed . . .” such that we get an explicit alignment of truth and goodness.
Thus (Joe!), granted the above, we get a clear line drawn from truth to the process of
interpellating a new subject by the word.
How do you know if the word is a truth? The word is a truth if it does constitute a new
subject newly capable of action in relation to the old situation (of sin) because that
situation has been effectively supplemented by the addition of “the word,” i.e., if it does
enlarge the soul and enlighten the understanding.
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Adam (#11): I may have to apologize for the hand I had in introducing Joe to philosophy,
though as I remember I didn’t really have that much to do with it. Joe came to
philosophy prepared to do philosophy.
As for Badiou: I don’t’ think “convert to Badiou” would describe me well yet, but
“recovering Heideggerian” might. I’ve spent the last week or so reading several of
Badiou’s works. I won’t belabor the point here (I may not elsewhere either until I get this
paper finished), but my problem with Badiou is that I am not yet convinced that the
formulae serve as anything more than a nice metaphor. We aren’t really doing math,
though math in Badiou (like writing in Derrida–is there a difference?) helps us see / say
more clearly things that we might otherwise have difficulty saying, such as that the Two
are not reducible to the 1+1 . The other problem is that I don’t think the insights are all
that novel. I think, for example, that I was talking about them in my dissertation, and
even then my advisors thought they were fine, but not all that novel. Examples: the
already mentioned Two does not equal 1 + 1; things are really events (that is Heidegger
through and through, at least as I read him).
But enough of Badiou since this isn’t a blog about him.
Adam: “If the experience of faith is going to introduce us to a new world, then the ‘literal’
resources of the old world won’t in themselves be sufficient.”
This is a great way of explaining the importance of new readings of scripture, of new
approaches, indeed, the necessity of scripture as figural. It is such a great way of putting
the point that I am likely to steal it. The analysis that follows is also excellent.
“I think the antecedent [of this] is not the swelling. The antecedent is the ‘saying that the
seed is good.’”
Though I like the idea here—if true, if fits my understanding—what is the argument?
Grammatically, the sprouting of the seed is the nearest possible antecedent. I see that
“you must say” is also possible, but not as likely. Also, as you point out in your next
comment (#12), verse 28 puts the swelling at the center, and verses 29-30 seem to
continue that emphasis.
Perhaps your best argument is that using the language of the end of the verse: “for ye
will say I know that this is a good seed.” However, even that is followed immediately by
“for behold it sprouteth and beginneth to grow.” That seems to put the reference back on
the swelling.
I like comments #12 and #13 very much. As usual, you say well what I wish I’d thought
to say.
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Jim says (quoting me).
‘Adam: “If the experience of faith is going to introduce us to a new world, then the
‘literal’ resources of the old world won’t in themselves be sufficient.”
‘This is a great way of explaining the importance of new readings of scripture, of new
approaches, indeed, the necessity of scripture as figural. It is such a great way of
putting the point that I am likely to steal it. The analysis that follows is also excellent.’
ASM: I’m glad it’s helpful - though the sentence cited above is, of course, taken almost
word for word from Badiou :)
Jim says (again quoting me): ‘“I think the antecedent [of this] is not the swelling. The
antecedent is the ‘saying that the seed is good.’”
‘Though I like the idea here—if true, if fits my understanding—what is the argument?
Grammatically, the sprouting of the seed is the nearest possible antecedent. I see that
“you must say” is also possible, but not as likely. Also, as you point out in your next
comment (#12), verse 28 puts the swelling at the center, and verses 29-30 seem to
continue that emphasis.
‘Perhaps your best argument is that using the language of the end of the verse: “for ye
will say I know that this is a good seed.” However, even that is followed immediately
by “for behold it sprouteth and beginneth to grow.” That seems to put the reference
back on the swelling.’
ASM: I think you’re right to recognize that the emphasis falls on the seed’s autonomous
swelling (i.e., to put the emphasis on the “grace” of the seed). However, the swelling,
while necessary, is not sufficient. If there is no “saying” of this “grace,” then it will have
been of no account. Without the “saying,” it will have borne no fruit.
In this sense, though the swelling does all the work, the “saying” remains sine qua non.
V30 is (as you suggest) clearest:
“Yea, it will strengthen your faith:

—– for ye will say
————- I know that this is a good seed;
————- for behold it sprouteth . . .”
Here, we might read the first “for” of the “for ye will say” as parallel with the second
“for” of the “for behold it sprouteth.” But I think it makes better sense to read the second
“for” as subordinate to the first. The sense then would be:
“your faith is strengthened because you say that the seed is good
and
you say that the seed is good because it swells and sprouts”
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The swelling/sprouting/grace of the word is the motive force, but faith will not be
strengthened if I do not say that this is so.
I believe that this work of “saying” may also be understood as that aperture through
which the relation between faith and knowledge passes. The “saying” articulates the gap
between the seen and the unseen, faith and hope, signs and the “perfection” of
knowledge.
A final note: might we read the “perfection” of knowledge as the coming-to-be of a

something not hitherto extant? That is to say, the temptation is to read the “perfection” of
knowledge as the now perfectly adequate correspondence of our understanding with the
way things are and already were (though unseen). What if (as I suggested earlier), the
“unseen” doesn’t refer to what is in the present tense (but hidden); but rather, to what
subjunctively “could be” if we bring about that state of affairs?
This is all a long way of arguing that: perhaps the “saying” that “must needs be” should
be understood as integrally constitutive of, as productive of, the perfection of knowledge
rather than as an accurate report about something that is already the case.
We need not say that the “saying” is central (we can assign this place to the swelling
word), but we nonetheless have to say that it’s essential.
Adam, these clarifications of what you’re doing with the “saying” are very, very helpful.
Thanks.
Just a note that I’ve finally posted my “summary” of last week’s discussion.
Two brief little notes:
1. The “word” is the seed that is planted in us. Our “saying” is the word that comes out of
us.
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2. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to connect the agrarian metaphors here to their sexual
counterparts. It’s (surely?) unintentional, but the imagine of a “seed” being planted in my
body that then swells and grows into a new life/tree isn’t too subtle, is it? Perhaps
especially if what grows, here, out of us is a tree of life (where the “tree of life” always
bears some important relation to the family “tree”). I believe Jenny’s said that she may be
interested in explicitly taking up some of these themes?
I don’t think it is a stretch to make the connection between the agrarian metaphor–plant
sexuality–and human being. I would be very interested in seeing an exploration of that
connection.
Discussion Summary: Alma 32: 26–29

July 20, 2008 by jennywebb
An indexing project I’ve been waiting for all summer arrived this week. Of course, after
taking two months to send it to me, the press sent it with a two-week turnaround
deadline (for the absolutely final version). I’m hoping to have the first draft completed by
Monday so I can send it to the author and then sort through the rich discussion from this
week. Thanks to all.
Alma 32:30-36
July 21, 2008 by Robert C. 
Structure
The phrase “swelleth, and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow” in verses 30 (twice) and 33
(once) seems significant. Also, “sprouteth and beginneth to grow” occurs at the end of
verse 30. I’m not sure what to make of this partial occurrence. Verses 30-33 also seem
enveloped in a double occurrence of the notion of “perfect knowledge” at the end of
verse 29 and the beginning of verse 34. Based on these observations, if we look more
closely at verses 29-34a as their own unit, we might read this according to the following
chiastic structuring:
(A) “it hath not grown up to a perfect knowledge” (v. 29)

(B) “But behold, as the seed swelleth and sprouteth and beginneth to grow, then you must
needs say that the seed is good; for behold, it swelleth and sprouteth and beginneth to grow”
(v. 30)
(C) “are ye sure that this is a good seed?” (v. 30)
(D) “Yea, for every seed bringeth forth unto its own likeness” (v. 31)
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(C’) “if a seed groweth it is good” (v. 32)
(B’) “And now, behold, because ye have tried the experiment, and planted the seed,
and it swelleth and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, ye must needs know that the seed is
good” (v. 33)
(A’) “And now, behold, is your knowledge perfect?” (v. 34)
Notice even the word order in A and C is chiastic: perfect-knowledge and good-seed vs.
seed-good and knowledge-perfect. Also, notice the difference between B and B’ from
“you must needs say that the seed is good” to “ye must needsknow that the seed is good.”
Also, notice that at the center of this chaism is the word “likeness.” More on these two
observations below.
Verses 34 and 35 might also be considered as a unit with “is your knowledge perfect”
forming the inclusive bookends:
(A) “is your knowledge perfect? Yea, your knowledge is perfect in that thing and your faith is
dormant” (v. 34)
(B) “this because you know, for ye know that the word hath swelled your souls” (v. 34)
(C) “that your understanding doth begin to be enlightened” (v. 34)
(D) “O then, is not this real?” (v. 35)
(C’) “whatsoever is light, is good, because it is discernible” (v. 35)
(B’) “therefore ye must know that it is good” (v. 35)
(A’) “and now behold after ye have tasted this light is your knowledge perfect?” (v. 35)
Notice that “real” is the center of this chiam. I’ll just note one other structural item that
seemed potentially signficant. The word “experiment” occurs:
• in verse 27: “if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment
upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith . . .”
• in verse 33: “And now, behold, because ye have tried the experiment, and
planted the seed . . .”
• in verse 36: “for ye have only exercised your faith to plant the seed that ye
might try the experiment to know if the seed was good.”
I think it’s interesting here that verse 36 combines the “exercise your faith” and the “plant
the seed” phrases that accompany verses 27 and 33 respectively. I’m not sure what to
make of this, but one thought is that perhaps this should draw our attention to what
occurs between the “experiment” inclusio, but before and after the two “perfect
knowledge” chiasms. This sets the end of verse 27 and verse 28 in parallel with verse
36—in particular, the phrase in verse 36, “Behold, I say unto you, Nay, neither must ye
lay aside your faith,” seems at least roughly parallel to the ideas in verses 27-28 of
“giv[ing] place” to the seed and “not cast[ing] it out.”
Faith and knowledge
I really like how Adam has talked about the “you must needs say” in terms of fidelity to
an event. In light of this, the gap in the text between the “must needs say” in verse 30 and
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the “must needs know” in verse 33 is particularly intriguing. Perhaps the best place for
thinking about the role of faith is precisely in this gap. Or is it?
Before Alma sets up this gap between these two “you must need” phrases, he claims in
verse 29 that the swelling of the seed will increase your faith. Then in verse 30, he seems
to back up a step or pry open a gap between the growth of the seed and the increase in
faith by inserting the phrase “ye must needs say that the seed is good” between the
swelling (and sprouting and beginning to grow) of the seed and the claim that faith will
be increased (actually “strengthened” this time, curiously…). We’ve discussed this “must
needs” wording previously, but it’s now worth repeating the sense in which this
compulsory phraseology occurs precisely at the point that we might think Alma is going
to discuss what else the Zoramite poor need to do (remember, this was their initial
question). But this “acknowledging” step is precisely what Alma is describing in
compuslory language. We’ve previously discussed the question of whether the
word compels humility or not and it seems that once the seed/word is given place to grow in
your heart, then confession and knowledge that the seed is good will be compelled by the
swelling of the seed itself. This may (or may not) be slightly different than what Adam is
claiming; regardless, I think it’s worth careful consideration. (One alternative might be
thought in terms of the kind of deception Korihor ultimately claimed he was acting
under—so it might be that Alma is advocating that one acknowledges this swelling by
professing it, rather than describing that this profession “must needs” follow….)
If the role of faith is not to be found in this gap between the swelling of the seed and the
confession of this fact, where is faith’s role to be found? Before and after: in giving place
for the seed to be planted (vv. 27-28), before the seed has begun to grow/swell, and not
“lay[ing] aside your faith” but nourishing the tree so that it will go on to produce fruit
(vv. 36ff), after the seed has begun to grow. The reading I’m proposing here is against
reading “you must needs say” as a kind of admonition to, for example, faithfully
proclaim the truthfulness of the gospel. Rather, I think this “you must needs say” should
be read either as an explanation of how faith can lead to knowledge (i.e., faith gives place
for the goodness of the seed to become known), or as an admonition not to give into a
kind of self- or other-induced deception that the seed is not good when it has in fact
caused swelling to occur (this is the alternative I mentioned with respect to Korihor in the
last sentence of the previous paragraph—the more I think about this, the more I like this
alternate reading, especially because I think it explains well why verse 31 about
“bring[ing] forth unto its own likeness” is so important to mention, and at the center of a
chiasm…).
Notice also that if the seed is in fact good, but the seed is never tested/tried, then the
goodness of the seed will not be known (until, presumably, final judgment when all non-
fruit-producing trees/souls will be burned). So, by trying this experiment on the word,
knowledge is in fact produced—as Adam has said, and as verse 33 seems to be is saying
(”because ye have tried the experiment . . . ye must needs know that the seed is good”).
Faith and perfect knowledge
Alma seems quite intent on making the point that the kind of knowledge described
above is not perfect knowledge. Although a kind of knowledge is obtained once the seed
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starts growing, this knowledge does not preclude a larger role for faith to play. Indeed,
Alma says explicitly (and emphatically, on my reading), “neither must ye lay aside your
faith, for ye have only exercised your faith to plant the seed that ye might try the
experiment to know if the seed was good” (verse 36). Without getting bogged down in
exploring possible ways of understanding what “perfect knowledge” means, let me
explore a couple of different issues here regarding “surety” and the link with sign-
seeking in verse 17 and in the Korihor narrative.
In verse 17, Alma says many will say if a sign were given they would then say “we shall
know of a surety; then we shall believe.” Then, in verse 26, Alma puts the
terms surety and perfection in an interesting synonymous juxtaposition: “Now as I said
concerning faith—that it was not a perfect knowledge—even so it is with my words. Ye
cannot know of their surety at first, unto perfection, any more than faith is
a perfect knowledge.” Finally, after describing the swelling of the seed in verse 30, we
read in verse 31, “And now, behold are ye sure that this is a good seed? I say unto you,
Yea; for every seed bringeth forth unto its own likeness.” Recall, verse 30 31 is the center
of a chiasm as I structured it above.
This question of surety seems to be responding directly to the question that Korihor
raised in 30:14-15:
Behold, these things which ye call prophecies, which ye say are handed down by holy
prophets, behold, they are foolish traditions of your fathers. How do ye know of
their surety? Behold, ye cannot know of things which ye do not see; therefore ye cannot
know that there shall be a Christ.
Korihor’s claim, and Alma’s echo of it in 32:17, seems to try to establish a sharp
dichotomy between faith and knowledge: faith is unsure and imperfect whereas
knowledge is sure and perfect. Alma seems to respond by making a distinction between
limited knowledge (”in that thing”) and perfect knowledge. To try and put this into a
diagram (for Adam and Joe):
1. Desire –> at least a particle of faith (F1)

2. –> plant seed/word
3. –> growth of the seed
4. –> knowledge in that thing (K1)
5. –> increased faith (F2)
6. –> nourishment of the tree
7. –> desirable fruit (synonymous with perfect knowledge: K2).
In words, a desire to believe leads to at least a particle of faith, which gives place for the
planting of the seed, which will then grow, which leads to knowledge that the seed is
good (K1). This, in turn, increases faith (F2) which will cause you to nourish the tree and
eventually obtain the desirable fruit (K2).
It seems, then, that Korihor’s claim, as Alma critiques it, is based on two problems: First,
Korihor focuses only on steps 4 and 5. True, there is a sense in which knowledge
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precedes an incresae in faith. However, the problem is that Korihor ignores steps 1-3
where faith is precisely what produces knowledge: knowledge depends on faith (I think
this is very similar to the main argument of critical theory, that other social theory
approaches ignore the sense in which knowledge is not merely given; rather, the
emergence of knowledge is something that depends on my beliefs, desires, etc.) This
ignoring of steps 1-3 might (also) be productively thought in terms of Adam’s claim in
his “A Hermeutics of Weakness” paper that faith is an acknowledgement of weakness or
dependence. In this case, it is the role of the word/seed itself that is being ignored by
Korihor (and the sign-seekers Alma describes). Without the presence of the word,
knowledge does not increase anything; rather, it is vain and pointless.
The other, related mistake that Korihor makes is that he conflates knowledge “in that
thing” (K1) with perfect knowledge (K2). I think the ramifications for this mistake might
be productively thought in terms of Levinas’s Totality and Infinity—very roughly, to
mistake partial knowledge for perfect knowledge is to try and totalize something that is
infinite.
Alma’s “Nay” in verse 36 (again, following 10 yea’s since the previous and only other
“nay” of the chapter in verse 18, which directly follows verse 17 with the “sure/ty” link
with verse 31 just discussed), then, might be read as a protest to the kind of totalized,
stagnant situation that the Zoramite poor feel themselves trapped in. To think that
knowledge leads to faith is to think that a situation determines our beliefs (and desires?).
Alma’s response is a call to awaken (v. 27; cf. “faith is dormant” in verse 34) and
to exercise faith, in order to escape this deceived way of thinking that leads to
immobilization. (The expanding seed and mind images, as well as the
light/englightenment images in verses 28 and 34-35, might be productively contrasted
with Alma’s frequent use of captivity and blindness symbolism in other sermons in order
to further this theme.)
Further questions
Some other issues I was hoping to have time to discuss more include the following:
• “Own likeness” in verse 31: Given the structural emphasis on this phrase
discussed above, I think it’s worth thinking much more carefully about this. Here is
a link to cross references using this phrase. I think it’s especially germane to Jenny’s
topic of the Garden (and, by extension, the creation; Jenny, if you haven’t read Jim’s
paper on Genesis 2-3, I highly recommend it—published in the first edition of
theJournal of Philosophy and Scripture). This also seems to feed into Adam’s
suggestion of reading the tree as a genealogical symbol, with “own likeness”
parallel to “seed” and “fruit.”
• “Cast out/away” and “lay aside”: Bad seeds are to be “cast out” or “cast
away” (vv. 28, 32) like the tree with no root is “cast out” in verse 38; cf. “neither
must ye lay aside your faith” in verse 36; cf. the Zoramite poor that have been “cast
out.” What’s going on here? Is Alma drawing on larger garden and/or tree imagery
here? Jacob 5? This is such an obvious thematic motif throughout this chapter, but
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I’m not sure how to think about it. Also, it seems to strongly complement the
“giving place” motif we’ve discussed a bit already.
• “Real” in verse 35: I thought about this a bit, especially in light of the
term imagin-e/ation as used by Alma in Zarahemla (Alma 5:16-18) and elsewhere
in the Book of Mormon (esp. the “vain imagination” motif). This seems rich, esp. in
light of the structural emphasis given to “real” that I mentioned above—I’ll leave it
to the Lacanians to have fun with this one!
• “Only” in verse 36: The “ye have only exercised your faith” phrase here got me
thinking more about verses 19-20, especially in light of Alma’s discussion elsewhere
of this life being a probationary state, a space to repent, and the way the
word prolong is used in the Book of Mormon. I think the gap between faith and
knowledge could productively be thought in these terms also. That is, this
prolonged space of time that we are graciously given in order to repent, in order to
choose to humble ourselves and believe rather than compelled to believe, seems to
be what, for example, Adam is getting at in his 32:21-25 summary discussion of X
and X’. I think it would be helpful to study these analogous/parallel themes in
Alma’s other sermons in an effort to understand better the faith-knowledge gap and
relation that Alma is articulating here.

Thank you for this. I really like the chiasmus that you identified and find it helpful not
just for the fact of its existence but because of what is does in terms of content.
“Also, “sprouteth and beginneth to grow” occurs at the end of verse 30. I’m not sure
what to make of this partial occurrence.”
One thought: The third (and partial) iteration reads “ye will say I know that this is a good
seed; for behold it sprouteth and beginneth to grow.” So the phrase “a good seed”
replaces swelling in the third iteration. Perhaps swelling and being a good seed should
therefore be paralleled.
But I also noticed that the first two iterations (which each include all three elements)
surround the phrase “then you must needs say that the seed is good.” I would conclude
that swell/sprout/begin is related to being good and probably defines being good. This,
of course, doesn’t agree with what I wrote above. . .
On the casting out/laying aside issue: It may be that the Z. poor have had experience
with being cast out, they know that they are good, but that their leaders can’t see it
because their clothing is poor. So they already have some experience with the dynamic
that Alma is teaching them about faith. It may also be that this reading of people-as-seeds
supports the genealogical reading of the tree that you mentioned.
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On “real:” not a common word in the scriptures; no OT/NT uses. Several BoM references
to “real intent,” which I assume (?) means “genuine, not feigned” intent. Importing
“genuine” into this context brings me back to Korihor (and I agree with you: my sense is
that Korihor really got under his skin for a variety of reasons and that much of 32 is a
response to Korihor’s thinking): Korihor claimed atheism but that wasn’t real. He had an
angelic visitation that wasn’t “real.” The point of the chiasmus may well be a guide to
recognizing the real deal: it enlightens, you know that it has happened, etc.
Robert, I really like the structural patterns you draw out of the text. Thank you.
It’s clear that you are primarily wrestling with the relationship between faith and
knowledge here. Without responding very directly to any particular comment you’ve
made here, let me make a few of my own, for what they’re worth.
I think it is striking that there is no mention whatsoever of knowledge after verse 36 in

the chapter, though faith will be mentioned four more times. This is, of course, quite in
line with Alma’s “neither must ye lay aside your faith” (which is, as Robert says, not only
explicit but emphatic). What is Alma suggesting or even arguing here?
It seems clear to me that verses 26-35 show faith as leading to knowledge, indeed,
to perfect knowledge. But it almost seems as if that knowledge is a sort of comforting side
effect, a product of the process of fidelity that is not without importance but that must
not be seen as the end of the process, since faith continues right to the end of the chapter.
Does this then mean that there is something (but only something!) right about the sign-
seekers’ model of faith: faith does come after knowledge? The difference would be that
the sign-seeker wants immediately perfect knowledge, knowledge unmediated by faith or
fidelity, knowledge independent of the word (a kind of direct encounter with the real,
which is a pipe dream). The sign-seeker would only tack faith as a kind of transcendental
hobby onto this immediate knowledge, a kind of “Let’s hang out at the pub and talk
about spiritual things” business rather than the work of a revolutionary or radical.
But there is—it remains unavoidable—a vital role for perfect knowledge to play, is there
not? Or could it even be read as a kind of “Look. If you want to have perfect knowledge,
well, you can have it ‘in that thing’ along the way, since you seem to be so keen on it. But
let’s get quite clear about the fact that it’s just a kind of bonus while you’re doing the
actual work of faith”?
What all of this forces me to think about now is Jenny’s Edenic insights. Two trees: of
knowledge (with its two fruits) and of life (with its one fruit?). The matheme I developed
might be rewritten in terms of the two trees: on the left is the tree of knowledge, the
dialectic being a dialectic between the good and the evil; and on the right is the tree of
life; the word brought by the angels is a piece of fruit from the tree of life that must be
planted in the forest of knowledge (introducing a foreign species into a limited
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ecosystem), etc., etc., etc. (It can’t be much of a coincidence that I finished reading The
Magician’s Nephew to my daughter yesterday: how else would I be reading all of this after
reading that?)
I’ll have a whole list of “smaller” issues to talk about as I get time. (I don’t know how
much time I’ll have this week since I’m leaving town tomorrow morning for my ten-year
high school reunion.)
Robert, thanks for diagramming the chiasmuses for us. Can you say something explicit
about what each shows?
I am having trouble with your diagram (is that my lot in life, never to get a diagram?).
Really I am having trouble with the verses you have diagrammed:how are K1 and K2
different? Verse 36 makes clear that K1 is “knowledge in planting the word, that it is
good.” If so, then is K2 “knowledge in the word itself”? (By the way what do we make of
the preposition “in” there (verse 34)–perfect knowledge in that thing rather than of that
thing?) What is there to know more than that the word is good? I have difficulty figuring
out the difference between K1 and K2, though obviously there is a difference since the
knowledge of verse 34 is perfect and that of verse 35 is not.
Sorry about that very rambling paragraph. It’s thesis is “I don’t understand!”
I think that Joe’s point about the word “knowledge” not appearing after verse 35 and
“know” appearing for the last time in verse 36 is important. Almost as much of Alma’s
discussion after verse 26 is devoted to the growth of the tree as is devoted to planting of
the seed. We often read that growth as a growth of knowledge, but Alma’s point is about
getting the fruit of the tree, the fruit of the tree of life. Presumably that fruit is not
knowledge. Indeed, its description in verses 42-43 does not seem like a description of
cognitive knowledge.
Perhaps that answers my confusion: if verse 42-43 describes “perfect knowledge,” then it
is not the cognition of a fact, but a state of blessedness: K1 is the knowledge that the seed
is good. K2 is the knowledge of the life of blessedness that the growth of the seed
produces.
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Julie #1, I like your thought about “swelling” being substituted by something in the
preceding phrase (”Yea, it will strengthen your faith: for ye will say I know that this is a
good seed”). Notice also that only“swelling” is mentioned in verse 28, not sprouting or
beginning to grow. What I think this points to is the sense in which the discussion
beginning in verse 30 is an elaboration on the swelling described in verses 28-29. I
suggested in my post that verses 30ff “pry open a gap between the growth [or swelling,
more accurately] of the seed and the increase in faith.” I think this is still generally right,
but your comment suggests that this is being done in a rather particular way (at least
structurally—I’m still not sure how this will affect the meaning…), by substituting out
the word (”swelling”) that forms the link.
So, verse 28 seems to give an overall sketch of the analogy that will be discussed and
elaborated on throughout verses 29-36 (the analogy seems to be furthered only in verse 36
with the introduction of the growing tree).
Verse 29 contrasts faith with perfect knowledge.
Then verse 30 revisits the “swelling” of verse 28, but adds the additional phrase
“sprouteth and beginneth to grow.” The use of the term “swell” is dropped only after it is
established that faith has been (or will have been…) strengthened (”will not this
strengthen your faith? Yea, it will strengthen your faith”).
Ah ha! So, if we incorporate Jenny’s insight about the chronology of a seed’s

development here, then I think we have something very interesting: Once the seed
swells, then it goes on to do something else—namely it sprouts and begins to grow. The
swelling is done, but it has caused something new to take (its) place. Faith becomes
dormant with respect to the swelling because the seed is now known to have swelled, so
“swelling” is left behind and drops out of the vocabulary, having been replaced by
knowledge that the seed is good. But the seed continues to sprout and grow, so faith is
still needed in order to continue the growth. So, by concatenating the “sprouteth and
beginneth to grow” phrase in verse 30 to the “swelling” of verse 28, Alma is able to show
within the analogy of the seed how faith produces knowledge and then becomes
dormant with respect to that function, but must not be set aside because there is still
something more to come (viz., fruit).
Also, it’s interesting that the one verb, “swelleth,” is substituted by two verbs here,
“sprouteth and beginneth to grow”: is Alma’s rhetoric multiplying in the same way that
faith multiplies (”a particle” that is increased and strengthened, and that nourishes what
eventually becomes an everlasting fruit-bearing tree)?
A couple other thoughts that thinking this through brought to mind:
* In my post I emphasized how the “ye must needs know that the seed is good” phrase in
verse 33 contrasts with “ye must needs say that the seed is good” phrase in verse 30.
However, I didn’t address how the word know is used in verse 30 itself, “for ye will say
I know that this is a good seed.” I think this development is very interesting, from “you
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must needs say” to “ye will say I know” (in verse 30) to “ye must needs know” (in verse
33)—not to mention the “ye will begin to say within yourselves” in verse 28, which this
presumably is all elaborating on. Hmm….
* The word “begin” as used in this chapter, and these verses especially, deserves careful
attention (apart from just its occurrence in the phrase “beginneth to grow”). Some form
of “begin” occurs no less than 5 times in verse 28; 3 times in verse 30; then in verses 33, 34
(twice), 37, and 41. It would also be interesting to think about these occurrences of
“begin” vis-a-vis the “endure to the end” phrase used in verses 14-15 (once in each
verse).
Julie #1, regarding “cast out,” I like how your comments suggest that Alma’s discussion
of the seed being cast out—either because of unbelief (v. 28) or because it is not a good
seed (v. 32) or because it has not been nourished (v. 38)—helps the Zoramites see their
own situation as being cast out of the synagogues in a new light. Likewise, each of us,
like Adam and Eve, are invited to think differently about being cast out of God’s
presence in the Garden. What’s interesting is that Alma never really condemns the
Zoramite priests for casting them out of their synagogues. In the Adam and Eve analogy,
the Zoramite priests are in the role of God, casting the poor out because they were in fact
unworthy (perhaps—that is, if they had not yet truly humbled themselves before God…).
But rather than seeing this as a bad thing, Alma seems to be suggesting that the Zoramite
poor should use this as an opportunity to cultivate some fruit and become worthy to
(re)enter the synagogues/temple/Garden….
Also, I just noticed how the premise in verse 32 for the seed being “cast away” uses only
the verb “groweth not”—that is, neither swelling nor sprouting are mentioned here, the
seed is to be cast away only if the seed “growth not.” I think this underscores the
importance of growth as the effect of faith: swelling and sprouting are, again, good only
in that they lead to growth, which in turn will bring forth fruit, and growth occurs only
when faith (in the word) is exercised. So, I think this effectively emphasizes faith and
puts a kind of deemphasis on knowledge. It’s true that knowledge can be gained via
faith, but this kind of knowledge that the seed is good only matters inasmuch as it
increases/strengthens faith. Knowledge is subservient to faith, at least in this sense.
Regarding “real,” I noticed the following interesting use in JS-H 1:6:
yet when the converts began to file off, some to one party and some to another, it was
seen that the seemingly good feelings of both the priests and the converts were more
pretended than real; for a scene of great confusion and bad feeling ensued—priest
contending against priest, and convert against convert; so that all their good feelings one
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for another, if they ever had any, were entirely lost in a strife of words and a contest
about opinions.
I think you’re right to link this back to Korihor. It’s easy to imagine that Korihor’s
question “how do ye know of their [the prophecies'] surety?” generated many questions
in the minds of many people (or at least in Alma’s mind who is, after all, giving the
sermon and re-raising these questions in terms of sign-seeking here). In this sense, “real”
and “surety” should be read as synonyms. However, the fact that Alma uses “real” and
not “sure” here suggests something else may be going on, and the JS-H quote above
reminded me of the affected praying of the Zoramites in Alma 31. This contrast to their
affected prayer is in line with the “real intent” phrases you mention elsewhere in the
Book of Mormon, which all have to do with praying, repenting, or asking forgiveness….
Joe #2, regarding the sign-seeker wanting faith only “as a kind of transcendental hobby,”
I think this is exactly right. This is what I found so striking in Adam’s “Atonement and
Testimony” paper, his description of adultery as “mistaking the sign of love [i.e.,
knowledge] for love itself [i.e., faith].” In today’s culture we want: a great body without
having to diet or exercise (sorry, donuts are on my mind right now…); great sex without
the work of a loving relationship; comfortable SUVs without having to pay for the gas or
environmental conequences; (pirated) music or software without having to pay the
copyright fees (that’s for you esp., Adam…), etc., etc. I also like how you (implicitly) tied
this in to the theme of the Fall and Adam and Eve’s attempt to “steal” knowledge, and
how the gospel is preached as a reversal of this knowledge-without-faith situation
(especially because I think it further challenges an overly-simplistic positive view of the
fall that I think we tend to lapse into in Mormon theology—I’m anxious to see how Jenny
grapples with all these isssues!).
Jim #3, I like how you’ve argued against a “cognitive knowledge” way of reading
“perfect knowledge”—I think you are right. I wonder if the effective substitution of
“perfect knowledge” for the fruit of the tree in the end of the chapter shouldn’t be taken
as a textual suggestion to link perfect knowledge with the idea of wisdom (cf. 32:12). It
seems others—I’m thinking esp. of Dan Peterson and Margaret Barker—have begun to
explore some of these wisdom motifs in the Book of Mormon, and I think that kind of
work might prove very helpful in understanding what’s going on here.
I’ll say something about the meaning/implication of my structural comments above in a
new comment.
Below are some lengthy musings (mostly thoughts on cross-references for “likeness”) in
an attempt to respond to Jim’s question about what the implications of the structural
thoughts above are for meaning. I feel like I still haven’t bridged the gap between my
more reckless theological musings about this chapter and what I’m finding in a close
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reading of the text and its structure, but here’s a shorter version of where my musings
have taken me:
In verses 30-33 I think we have a slowing down of the discourse in order to highlight
what amounts to the miracle of life/reproduction in verse 31 where “every seed bringeth
forth unto its own likeness.” I think this miracle-of-life sense of this central phrase
suggests that we should read “perfect knowledge” in terms of experience—i.e.,
experiential knowledge that we can have in our soul (cf. vv. 28, 34)—including all of the
symbolic, mystical, and sexual connotations of this kind of knowledge. So, if in verse 42
we read about being “filled, that ye hunger not, neither shall ye thirst,” then in these
earlier verses it seems we are reading about what leads up to this climax.
Thus, if in verses 30-33 we read a carefully structured, repetitive account of how
experiential knowledge is obtained, then we don’t have to worry so much about the
difference between what this kind of knowledge is versus what perfect knowledge is
because both kinds of knowledge will be qualitatively the same, at least in some sense
(i.e., from the same seed—the taste or flavor will be the same; kissing someone lovingly is
tantamount to making love in this sense, though it’s not making love in the “complete”
sense…). This means I want to take back some of the emphasis I was previously trying to
put on the “in that thing” phrase of verse 34, and the “nay” of verse 36 (which I wanted
in order to emphasize the difference between knowledge and perfect knowledge), and
shift it to verse 31 with a dose of wonderment about the miraculous experience we see
being described there where the seed “bringeth forth unto its own likeness.” Knowledge
itself, when experienced as the product of faith, is beautiful, sweet and miraculous, and if
we continue in faith, we can experience (infinitely) more of the same….
(Lengthier musings posted below—read at your own risk.)
Regarding the meaning/implication of the structural comments I’ve made above, I’m
really not sure what to make of it all yet. I’ll confess that on my first (re-)reading of these
verses, 30-33 in particular, it all seemed very repetitive without really saying much
substantively—this is largely the reason I spent so much time looking at the structure
of/and the repetition there. The only substantive point that verses 30-33 seem to be
making is that if the seed grows than it is good—a point this seems almost trivial, banal
even. However, precisely because of the lengthy way in which Alma makes this point,
and in this key part of his sermon (that is, roughly about where one would expect the
climax of the sermon to be), I think these verses should be read quite carefully.
To that end, the center of the chiasm of verses 30-33 as I’ve structured it (and let me
repeat the tentativeness with which I present this chiasm—I’d feel much better if
someone else carefully considered this and other possible ways of thinking the structure
of these verses…) is this curious phrase in verse 31: “Yea; for every seed bringeth forth
unto its own likeness.” The word “likeness”doesn’t strike me as particularly significant
in other Book of Mormon passages, but I do think some of the uses in Genesis, the PofGP,
and the D&C are worth commenting on.
1. In Abraham 4:26 we read, “And the Gods took counsel among themselves and said:
Let us go down and form man in our image, after our likeness” (cf. Genesis 1:26).
Interestingly, we read a few verses earlier, “Let us prepare the earth to bring forth grass;
the herb yielding seed; the fruit tree yielding fruit, after his kind, whose seed in itself
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yieldeth its own likeness upon the earth; and it was so, even as they ordered.” Here, we
have—in a text where Joseph is again serving as translator—an intriguing link forged by
the term “likeness” between seeds reproducing and the Gods reproducing. This suggests
to me that thoughts like Jenny and Adam have been proposing regarding the seed and
tree referring to something like a family tree are, indeed, worth pursuing further. I think
this also suggests an interesting way to think about “likeness” as it’s used to describe
idolatry in several places, starting with the commandment given in Ex 20:4, “Thou shalt
not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven
above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.” (Below I’ll
make a comment related this curious “in the earth beneath” phrase as it relates to the
planting of the seed.) D&C 1:16 and surrounding verses also seems worth studying in
this light,
They seek not the Lord to establish his righteousness, but every man walketh in his own
way, and after the image of his own god, whose image is in the likeness of the world, and
whose substance is that of an idol, which waxeth old and shall perish in Babylon, even
Babylon the great, which shall fall.
What’s interesting to me here in light of Alma 32 is the use of the term likenessadjacent to
a metaphor of Babylon falling, perhaps like a tree that is producing wild fruit or no
fruit….
2. In Moses 6, “likeness” appears 3 times. In verses 8 and 10, we seem to have repetitions
of texts in Genesis (God created man in “the likeness of God,” and Adam “begat a son in
his own likeness, after his own image, and called his name Seth”). In verse 63 we read:
all things have their likeness, and all things are created and made to bear record of me,
both things which are temporal, and things which are spiritual; things which are in the
heavens above, and things which are on the earth, and things which are in the earth, and
things which are under the earth, both above and beneath: all things bear record of me.
What is striking to me about this passage, in light of Alma 32, is the way in which the
seed-growing-to-a-tree fits this repetitive description so well: “things which are under
the earth [the planted seed], both above [the fruit] and beneath [the seed, again].” I’m not
sure how to pursue this thought further, but these connections seem quite interesting.
Also, a potentially interesting cross-reference for this spiritual-temporal likeness is D&C
77:2 where we read in response to a question about the four beasts in Revelation 4:6,
“that which is spiritual being in the likeness of that which is temporal; and that which is
temporal in the likeness of that which is spiritual; the spirit of man in the likeness of his
person, as also the spirit of the beast, and every other creature which God has created.”
3. In D&C 128:12-13, we see the term likeness occurring in a discussion about baptism for
the dead. Quite some time ago, Joe made an interesting observation on the wiki about
this passage, that we seem to read here about baptism being instituted “to form a
relationship with the ordinance of baptism for the dead, being in likeness of the dead”—as
though baptism for the dead predates the ordinance of baptism for oneself. Without
getting too distracted by that curiosity, I do think that the way in which baptism is
discussed here in terms of “likeness” and the explicit mention of the symbolism of the
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grave being “a place underneath” is all very provocative the way it interweaves some of
the same themes of Alma 32—remember the curious mention of baptism in verse 16, and
of course seeds must first be planted under the ground, or “die” (cf. 1 Cor 15:35-38; John
12:24), in order to sprout, etc.
Now, coming back to Alma 32:30-33 (finally!), how might this intertextual excursion help
us understand better what’s going on in this seemingly trivial, repetitive set of verses? It
seems that Alma is discussing here nothing less than the wondrous—and yet seemingly
commonplace in a botanical setting—miracle of life and reproduction. Remember, the
seed must be planted in our heart (v. 28—again, this curious preposition in; cf. Jim’s
comment #3 on v. 34, “perfect knowledge in that thing…). So, inasmuch as baptism
marks the beginning of a new life, so too the planting of the seed represents a new, life-
and heart-transforming event in which we partake of the sacred(/sacramental) nature of
God (by his “breathing” the word into our soul?). It is this kind of internal experience of
something other, an experience which is rhetorically accomplished by the intertwining
of saying and knowing in verses 30-33, that Alma is describing. Faith in the miracle of life,
represented by the growth of the seed, is reinforced when the growth of the seed is felt
and experienced. And although these feelings and experiences of growth testify to the
goodness of the seed, they are only a shadowy foretaste of the kind of knowledge(/love)
that can be experienced if we continue true and faithful….
Great discussion this week, Robert. My heads spinning in so many directions!
I’m not sure what’s left to add, really.
A couple of brief notes:
1. I’m curious about the status of the “musts” that Robert draws attention to.
“It must needs be that this is a good seed” (v28).

“You must needs say that the seed is good” (v30).
“Ye must needs know that the seed is good” (v33).
“Ye must know that it is good” (v35).
Are all these “musts” identical in usage? Is there a difference between the first three
“must needs” and the final just “must”? Do they function as prescriptive or descriptive?
Or is the difference between prescriptive and descriptive here the difference between
humility without compulsion and a compelled humility? A humility without compulsion
would understand the “must” as a prescription that is to be taken up, whereas a
compelled humility understands the “must” as a description of a necessity to be borne?
2. So much emphasis in these verses on the “good.” Do we have a working

understanding of the meaning of “good”?
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“Good” has already been paralleled with truth in v28 (”if it be a true seed, or a good
seed”).
And then we get the concatenation of v35 that links the “real” to what is “light” to what
is “good” to what is “discernible” and back again to what is “good.”
The “good” seems to be deeply connected here to things epistemological: truth, light,
discernibility. How close is the connection between the “good” and “knowledge” (or,
better?, wisdom)?
In v32 we get the “good” associated with growth: “if a seed groweth it is good.” The
“good” entails movement, growth, productivity?
Putting this all together could we say:
The good is thinkable only in connection with the production/growth of

light/discernibility/truth/reality?
3. Have you ever “tasted light?” What a great image.
Is this a provocative conflation of two different senses (sight and taste)? Or are we talking
about the concrete form that light takes when it is converted (via photosynthesis?) into
something edible (e.g., fruit)?
4. Just a note that in v28 we “give place that a seed may be planted” (note the passive
construction). But in v33 and v36 the construction is active: “ye have tried the experiment
and planted the seed” and “ye have only exercised your faith to plant the seed.”
Does this mean anything? Does the intervention of the “saying” between v28 and v33
change our relation to the planting from passivity to activity?
Adam,
1. Yes, I like this. This seems related to what I poorly articulated in the post
(parenthetically) that “Alma is advocating that one acknowledges this swelling by
professing, rather than describing that this profession ‘must needs’ follow” (I’m quoting
myself for reference when it comes time to summarize…), and I like you’ve shown a link
to our compelled humility discussions.
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2. Great question and thoughts about “good,” much I want to think more about here.
Culturally, I think it’s interesting how, as “the” Mormon religion, we have a cultural
pragmatism to us that seems at least somewhat related to this notion of good being
what works (i.e., grows, reveals, tastes good, etc.).
3. Conflation of senses—brilliant insight I hadn’t thought about.
4. From passive to active planting marked by “saying”: yes, I really like this.
So much to think about—I feel like I say that every week, but I already know I’m going to
be revisiting this thread many times in the future!
Robert, your chiastic readings here have been incredibly helpful for me. I want to
combine your thoughts concerning likeness in #6 and Jim’s observation that the fruit of
the tree does not appear to be knowledge and then draw on the first chiasmus you
describe in v.29-34. I think the central point—”every seed bringeth forth unto its own
likeness”—is vital for understanding where Alma eventually wants the Zoramites to end
up.
The principle Alma presents is, essentially, that good seeds grow. Biologically, seeds
produce a mature version of their parent, and in becoming their parents, also create their
own seeds. The phrase “bringeth forth unto its own likeness” is a bit tricky, but I think it
could potentially refer to either, or both, parts of that process.
In this case, the tree, properly nurtured, will produce fruit which is precious, sweet,
white, and pure. We’re familiar with this tree thanks to Lehi and Nephi—and Nephi’s
vision makes it fairly clear that this tree can be identified with/as the Son of God
(although it also makes it clear that this tree is not limited to one single interpretation).
So I think it’s possible to see the entire metaphor as planting the word/seed/Christ and
nurturing it so that as it grows, one becomes like Him (perhaps more literally than we
normally think?). The first half of the book of Mosiah makes it clear that we are
spiritually born of Christ—we are his seed, in a sense—and Alma himself alludes to an
underlying physicality in conversion, which results in His image being “engraven upon
[our] countenances” (5:19; as an aside, it’s interesting that that chapter/discourse
culminates in an invitation to “also … by partakers of the fruit of the tree of life”).
If we’re willing to allow for the tree of life to be Christ, it lends some interesting
possibilities to the Garden story. We could see Adam and Eve as being barred from the
fruit of the tree of life as their being barred from approaching Christ/the atonement from
the outside—essentially, they cannot be the agents that pluck that fruit and eat it
themselves (they cannot give themselves redemption/eternal life). But they still must
have that fruit if they are to have eternal life; post-Eden, however, the only way to obtain
that fruit is through the process described in Alma 32: giving place, not casting out, and
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nurturing. With the result being that instead of their reaching out to take the fruit, the
inner tree instead becomes the active agent, “bring[ing] forth fruit unto you” (43).
That final phase of the chapter echoes the central chiastic point of verses 29-34: “every
seed bringeth forth unto its own likeness.” Which now can be re-read not necessarily as
only a description of a seed maturing into the parent, becoming a parent itself, but also as
a promise: the seed will bring forth fruit (Christ will bring forth eternal life) to those that
are of its likeness/look like it (to those who have cultivated Him and have become like
Him).
Wow! I’m never leaving town in the middle of a seminar again!
Fantastic thoughts. The more I reflect on the conversations for the week, the more I
wonder whether we aren’t taking the last part of the chapter far too quickly: our
comments seem far more scattered than they have generally been. I don’t know,
however, that there is anything that can be done about that now.
I’m particularly struck by three things from this discussion.
First, the question of likeness. I find myself interested in doing comparative study
between Alma 32 and 1 Corinthians 15. At any rate, the discussions of creation texts here
are certainly quite relevant.
Second, Adam’s thematic of the “saying” that runs through these verses is immensely
helpful for thinking about what Alma is doing. I’m very eager to see this theme worked
out in greater detail.
Third, I still want to emphasize that knowledge/knowing does not at all show up in the
chapter after verse 36. Which is to say, I’m not at all sure that there is a K2. And I think
we need to look more carefully at the ideas of “increase” and “strengthen” when they are
applied to faith. What do these things mean?
I’m left with questions I would like to have asked and addressed during the week…
Discussion summary: Alma 32.30-36

July 26, 2008 by Robert C. 
I had a rather crazy week last week, so sorry for not posting this earlier. Since we’re
rather late in the seminar now, let me try to summarize (”muse about” would be more
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accurate here…) both this week’s and previous weeks’ discussion as it relates to the first
seminar question:
What does Alma 32 teach us about exercising faith?

Faith is something that occurs before the attaining of knowledge. Faith is what sets the
process of the attaining of knowledge in motion (as the frequency of the
term begin attests). Once faith is exercised, and the word/seed is given place to do its
thing, then the word/seed reproduces its goodness.
Experiencing this goodness is knowledge, and should be recognized as such. Alma

describes this recognition step by saying “you must needs say that the seed is good” and,
later, “ye must needs know that this is a good seed” (v. 33). Regarding the growth of the
seed, and the recognition thereof, Alma also says this will “strengthen your faith” (v. 30).
Interestingly, faith is in the objective (grammatical) case here, so it may be a mistake to
describe this recognition step in terms of “exercising faith”—after all, the seed/word is
described as being the agent of this increase in faith. Verse 36 seems to support this idea
when—repeating the terms “exercise” and “faith” which first occur in verse 27—Alma
says “ye have only exercised your faith to plant the seed that ye might try the experiment
to know if the seed was good.” Exercising faith is associated here, again, with the
planting of the seed, and the amount of faith needed to initiate this growth is referred to
with the modifier “only”: it is not a large amount of faith that produces knowledge, but a
relatively small amount of faith that unleashes the miraculous reproductive power of the
seed.
This “only” in verse 36 seems to have two different, non-mutually exclusive

connotations. As just described, it might be emphasizing the small degree of faith needed
to get the seed to start growing. A second, more obvious connotation is that this verse is
pointing to an additional role that faith will play in the eventual attainment of fruit. To
whit, verse 40 associates faith with the nourishing of the seed in the following negative
construction: “thus, if ye will not nourish the word, looking forward with an eye of faith
to the fruit thereof, ye can never pluck of the fruit.” Although this increased faith needs
to be accompanied “with great diligence, and with patience,” the continued exercise of
faith might now be thought of as being the direct result of the growth of the seed, and
only indirectly related to the initial exercise of faith. That is, the wording of the later
verses in the chapter seems to keep this faith which was increased by the growth of the
seed (rather than by the listener-as-agent) separate from the diligence and patience that
the listener (presumably) exerts.
I think this suggests a slightly different notion of faith than is usually conceived. Perhaps
this difference is best articulated by considering again the way that diligence and
patience are paired “with” faith in verse 40. That is, whereas faith is often thought as
being synonymous with diligence and patience (as in the common expression, “a trial of
faith”), here it seems faith is something distinct, something that does not in and of itself
connote diligence and patience. That is, verse 41 does not say “nourish the word . .
. with your faith, with great diligence, and with patience,” putting each of these terms
into obvious parallel; rather, it says “nourish the word . . . by your faith, with great
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diligence, and with patience.” It is the “by” instead of “with” preceding “your faith” that
I think suggests a distinction between the word faith and the words diligence and patience.
So, if faith should not be taken to (primarily) connote diligence and patience, how should
faith be understood? As we’ve discussed previously, I think faith is being used here more
as a synonym for belief. “Trust” might also be a good synonym: how much are the
Zoramite poor willing to trust that what Alma is saying is true (or “good”)? Whereas
diligence and patience are usually thought in terms of virtues that are within our “own”
sphere of control, the contrastive juxtaposition that I think is present in the text suggests
a much more vulnerable-to-the-ego aspect to faith. Faith is a relinquishing of one’s own
control, yielding to the power of someone or something else (the word/seed, in this
case).
This is, I think, why Alma does give a very direct answer to the Zoramite poor about
what they should do—because to have faith is not like the simple self-exerting way that
patience or diligence are exercised (though there aresimilarities in these concepts). What
is important yet difficult for Alma to convey is the sense in which what must be done is a
kind of un-doing (the “without” that Joe has been talking so much about). In short, what
the Zoramite poor need to do is to believe Alma’s word(s) over the Zoramite authorities’
word.
Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

One Response to “Discussion summary: Alma 32.30-36”
1. on August 4, 2008 at 8:59 pm1 Robert C.
(Note: I’ve finally got some summary discussion posted here.
I basically ended up considering verse 41 closely as a way of thinking through some of

the rethinking I’ve done regarding faith and the first seminar question regarding the
meaning of faith. Although verses 30-36 don’t explicitly show up in the discussion, these
verses actually played a very important role in my rethinking the meaning of faith and
the way that it represents a giving-oneself-over to the goodness of the seed, which is
what I now think is themajor theme of verses 30-36….)
Alma 32:37-43
July 26, 2008 by juliemariesmith 
Sorry this got a little long. . .
(I decided to include the verses for convenient reference.)
37 And behold, as the tree beginneth to grow, ye will say: Let us nourish it with great
care, that it may get root, that it may grow up, and bring forth fruit unto us. And now
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behold, if ye nourish it with much care it will get root, and grow up, and bring forth
fruit.
Notice the repetition of the four-fold sequence of (1) nourish, (2) root, (3) grow up, and
(4) fruit. In both, (2), (3), and (4) are seen as the results of (1). The first instance is
introduced with “ye will say” and the second is Alma’s words affirming that it will in
fact happen. So the verse makes a neat parallel between what ye (the audience) will say
and what Alma in fact says. We, the audience, are invited to do what Alma does. I also
note that both iterations are reminiscent of the creation narrative in that someone “says”
and then it happens; the audience is invited to do what God does as a creator. In this
case, it is faith/knowledge that is created.
38 But if ye neglect the tree, and take no thought for its nourishment, behold it will not
get any root; and when the heat of the sun cometh and scorcheth it, because it hath no
root it withers away, and ye pluck it up and cast it out.
Although it isn’t stated explicitly, the nourishing care of the tree must be to adequately
water it—if that isn’t done, the sun will scorch it. The unmentioned but essential element
here is water. It is tempting to develop a negative theology of Jesus-as-living-water, but I
wonder why Alma doesn’t mention it explicitly here.
The language is strongly reminiscent of Jesus’ parable of the four soils (see Mark 4:6: “But
when the sun was up, it was scorched; and because it had no root, it withered
away.”) Both involve a teacher teaching multitudes about developing faith using very
similar parables, but Jesus mentions four types of ground and encourages His audience
to identify itself with the fertile ground. In Alma, only two scenarios (not four) are
included and the audience is to identify with the farmer, not with the soil. Further, in
Jesus’ parable, the problem is that the seed fell on stony ground; in Alma’s the problem is
that the seed wasn’t nourished.
The natural result of a scorched plant is the need to “cast it out.” This language isn’t new
in this chapter; the audience had been cast out of the synagogues.We discussed last week
how their experience prepared them to hear this parable. Were they not nourished
because of their poverty? Did they wither because they weren’t nourished? They
certainly were cast out.
Notice the (interrupted) repetition in these two verses:
A And behold, as the tree beginneth to grow, ye will say:

B Let us nourish it with great care,
C that it may get root,
D that it may grow up,
E and bring forth fruit unto us.
A And now behold,
B if ye nourish it with much care
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C it will get root,
D and grow up,
E and bring forth fruit.
A But if ye neglect the tree,
B and take no thought for its nourishment,
C behold it will not get any root;
D and when the heat of the sun cometh
E and scorcheth it,
The first two strophes set up an expectation of a four-fold sequence for the third. But in
this third strophe, the B and C lines mention nourishment and root (albeit negatively),
then expectations are violated in the D and E lines where bringing forth fruit is replaced
with being scorched.
39 Now, this is not because the seed was not good, neither is it because the fruit
thereof would not be desirable; but it is because your ground is barren, and ye will not
nourish the tree, therefore ye cannot have the fruit thereof.
I can almost “hear” Alma saying “this is not because you were not good, neither is it
because you were not capable of producing good fruit, but because your clothing was
poor, because they refused to provide for you, therefore they cannot enjoy your fruit.”
Remembering that the root of the problem here is their poor clothing, it seems significant
that the crux of the parable is about where the fault lies—in the thing itself or in how the
thing is treated.
Here’s this verse with positive and negative statements indicated:
-Now, this is not because the seed was not good,

-neither is it because the fruit thereof would not be desirable;
+but it is because your ground is barren,
-and ye will not nourish the tree,
-therefore ye cannot have the fruit thereof.
It’s a nice arrangement that emphasizes the real problem: barren ground. But the ground
isn’t inherently or unchangeably barren; it is barren because it wasn’t nourished.
40 And thus, if ye will not nourish the word, looking forward with an eye of faith to
the fruit thereof, ye can never pluck of the fruit of the tree of life.
I find it interesting that Alma drops the pretense of the parable and says “nourish the
word” instead of “nourish the tree.” This is the first time that the fruit is identified: we
have obvious parallels to the creation story. But in that story, the fruit of the tree of life is
something God provides; humans don’t need to plant a seed or nourish it or
anything. Why do humans have to work for *this* tree of life? “Eye of faith” is an
interesting phrase; there are only two other BoM references; I’m not at all sure what it
means.
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Note in v38 that the same verb—pluck—is used for removing the scorched tree.Is Alma
making the point that the actions are similar? If so, why?
41 But if ye will nourish the word, yea, nourish the tree as it beginneth to grow, by
your faith with great diligence, and with patience, looking forward to the fruit thereof,
it shall take root; and behold it shall be a tree springing up unto everlasting life.
There is an interesting progression of ideas in this verse and the previous two:v39 ends
with reference to the fruit, v40 to the fruit of the tree of life, and v41 to the tree of
everlasting life. Each of the three verses begins with the need to nourish the word and
ends with increasingly specific references to what exactly the fruit is/does.
Other trees: Garden of Eden, Nephi’s vision, end of Book of Revelation. How do these all
relate? Or is that the wrong question to ask?
42 And because of your diligence and your faith and your patience with the word in
nourishing it, that it may take root in you, behold, by and by ye shall pluck the fruit
thereof, which is most precious, which is sweet above all that is sweet, and which is
white above all that is white, yea, and pure above all that is pure; and ye shall feast
upon this fruit even until ye are filled, that ye hunger not, neither shall ye thirst.
So the tree grows IN you and then you eat of its fruit. Is this where the parable breaks
down? If not, what does it mean to consume a fruit grown within you? Is it just another
way of saying that eternal life is an inside job? What else might it mean?
43 Then, my brethren, ye shall reap the rewards of your faith, and your diligence, and
patience, and long-suffering, waiting for the tree to bring forth fruit unto you.
Does the reaping happen while the waiting happens? That seems to be the most natural
reading of this verse.
General Comments on Alma 32
I want to make a few general comments about the discourse because I want to be sure
that our “a few verses per week” approach doesn’t mean that we miss sight of the big
picture.
I’m struck by how many references there are to Alma saying something (“I say unto
you”) and references to the audience saying something (“ye will say”) in this
chapter. The phrase “I say unto you” is completely unnecessary: of course the speaker is
saying to the audience what the speaker is saying to the audience! One wonders how this
phrase (or variants) made it into this chapter 14 times; I suspect it must be doing
something besides the obvious. Here’s a chart with the actual phrases on the right and
my simplification of them on the left:
OTHER (asks) Thy brother hath said . . .

I SAY (ask) I say unto you . . .
I ASK I would ask . . .
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I SAY I say unto you . . .
I SAID As I said unto you . . .
OTHER (says) There are many who do say . . .
I ASK Now I ask . . .
I SAID Now as I said . . .
I SAID As I said . . .
I SAID As I said . . .
YOU SAY Ye will begin to say . .
YOU SAY Ye will say . . .
YOU SAY Ye will say . .
Notes on this:
(a) The sequence begins with the ‘other’ and ends with ‘you.’ The point of Alma’s discourse is
to get them away from thinking that the others (=the leaders who have kicked them out)
matter and into thinking that what they choose to do matters. The audience literally gets
the last word in determining what will happen. In a discourse on the word, addressed to
people who have been isolated from “the word” by their leaders, this seems significant.
(b) The first chunk consists of three questions; the last chunk of Alma’s consists of three
“sayings,” which may imply that the questioning that begins the discourse ends with the
certitude of statements in a symbolic as well as a literal way.
(c) The material appears to move through three stages: first, asking alternates with saying;
next, saying alternates with “having said;” finally, Alma’s “saying” alternates with what
‘you’ “say.” So the progress is from questioning, to the dialogue between past and
present, to that between Alma and the audience. The audience takes the place (if you
will) of Alma’s past as his discussion partner; they are invited to ‘be a part of history’ as it
were, as questioning is replaced by . . . them. The three stages of the material are also
characterized by different discussion partners: (1) other-Alma, (2) Alma’s past—Alma’s
present, and (3) Alma—the audience.
(d) The first time the “you” says anything, it is “ye will begin to say.”That makes obvious
sense. But it also point up the fact that at that moment, the audience has begun to interact
with the word. And the thing that you will begin to say is that the seed is good.
(e) When Alma says that the audience “will say: Let us nourish it with great care, that it may
get root, that it may grow up, and bring forth fruit unto us,” the emphasis isn’t just on
the nourishing process but also on the saying process. That is, the decision by the people
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to verbalize their plans, or even just to have those plans, is the primary constituent of
their faith. Back to the Korihor story, I wonder if we need to read more into his muteness
as a symbolic sign and not just a punitive sign. And I also wonder how all of this
“saying” relates to the “word.”
(f) The point is to show the back-and-forth of faith development by casting it as a process that
swings between what Alma says and what the people say. I note that the larger discourse
is in reality an answer to the question posed by the people and that that answer consists
them of a lot of hypothetical sayings by the people.
(g) One final thought: Or maybe my “of course the speaker is speaking to the audience” was
a little hasty: the Zoramite poor have gotten used to be treated as non-entities. Maybe
this relates to the physical “turning” I noted early on; maybe the phrasing is meant to
remind them that Alma really is speaking to them—the opposite of kicking them out.
Another general comment: there are three phrases that are each repeated (in whole or in
part) at least three times in this chapter:
Swell Sprout Begin to grow

Good seed Sprout Begin to grow
Swell Sprout Begin to be enlightened
Nourish Root Grow up fruit

Nourish Root Grow up fruit
(no) nourish (no) root Wither Pluck it out
(no) nourish Looking forward with eye of faith Never pluck
Nourishing Root pluck
Faith Great diligence Patience

Diligence Faith Patience
Faith Diligence Patience Long-suffering
We talked about the first bunch last week, although I don’t think we noted the way that
“begin to be enlightened” parallels the “begin to grow” phrase. As for the next chunk of
repeated phrases, I addressed those above. I would note here that the chart suggests that
“looking forward with the eye of faith” is what “taking root” and “growing up” allude
to, but I’m still not entirely sure what that means. The final chunk is more literal and less
a part of the parable. I note that the terms don’t occur in the same order but I don’t know
if that is significant. While there is some overlap between the second set and the third,
the order of the repetitive phrases is remarkably stable. It may be that they are used to
mirror the growth process. Not sure—I sense that there is something else important
going on here but that I haven’t quite pinned it down.
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Another big picture item: in v10, Alma asks, “Behold I say unto you, do ye suppose that
ye cannot worship God save it be in your synagogues only?”Inasmuch as the parable of
the seed teaches a process by which eternal life can be grown within you, it makes it clear
that the synagogue is not necessary for worship.
Another thing: We know that the audience is poor, but I’m wondering if there are any
clues to their specific situation that I have missed. I ask because an urban street beggar
(for example) would read this parable quite a bit differently than a subsistence
farmer. Anyone?

Julie, thanks for the productive set of final comments. The tables and “sayings” overview
are especially helpful. A couple of notes:
1. Re: other trees. We might add Jacob 5 to the list. In general, I’m tempted to read the
Jacob 5 trees as concrete elaborations of “trees of life.”
Also, the language in v42 that describes the fruit is almost verbatim the language from
Lehi’s/Nephi’s dream: “precious, sweet, white” to the utmost degree (cf. 1 Ne. 8.10-12).
This parallel may emphasize the image of pregnancy that Alma implicitly develops with
this analogy because in 1 Ne. 11 when this language is used to describe the tree (see 11.8-
9), the tree is explicitly identified with Mary as a pregnant virgin (see 11.13,15, but also all
of 11.11-23).
2. I also noted the “eye of faith” construction in v40. What to make of it? I’m not sure
myself. Though perhaps we can connect the “vision” proper to faith with that shift in
perspective about the value of humility that our “saying the seed is good” provokes.
3. Great analysis of the way “saying” (the Other’s/Alma’s/Ours) unfolds over the span
of the entire chapter. I agree entirely that this rhetoric plays a substantive rather than
decorative role in the discussion of faith.
Julie, great stuff but so much I’m going to have to take a moment to digest it. However,
in response to your question about whether there are clues to their specific situation, see
my comment #13 on Alma 32:1-6. I’ve copied out a piece that may be relevant.
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Julie,
Your insight about the saying-then-doing sequence in verse 37 as being like the creation
account is fascinating. I don’t know what to do with it for now, but I really like it.
Your drawing together the theme of Zoramite clothing and the nourishing of the tree
points toward yet another Edenic image (sheesh! will we be doing anything these last
few weeks but giving Jenny more fodder for her paper?): Adam and Eve clothe
themselves first with the leaves of the (fruit?) trees. The Christic act in the Garden
sequence, of course, is the replacement of these clothes with the skins of beasts.
Interesting possibilities here.
About the planting of the tree of life (as opposed to its being simply provided in the
Garden): isn’t the trick that the tree of life is being planted in the world where only trees
of knowledge grow? One could parabolize the visitation of the angels as mentioned in
verse 23 by suggesting that they are visitors from a foreign land who bring a seed from a
faraway land: were the planter to go visit the faraway country, they would need to do no
work to pluck of the fruit, but here, where only the local trees grow for now, a good deal
of effort would need to go into producing the fruit.
Your diagramming and discussion of the many “sayings” in the chapter is simply
remarkable, remarkably productive. I want to look at each of your comments much more
carefully so as to have something much more productive to say than I would right now.
I also want to offer some reflections on the chapter as a whole, but will do that as time
permits in another comment.
esp. since this is something I’ve begun wondering a lot more about. You (or someone
else) may’ve already said this, but the repitition of the word “good” in the creation
narrative also seems significant, given these many other repeating motifs in the chapter
(saying, “likeness,” tree of life/knowledge, fruit, “cast out,” etc.).
Also, I think the unstated water theme you note with regard to the scorching sun is
interesting because of how the Book of Mormon uses fountain imagery, often
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interchangeably with the tree of life (e.g., 1 Ne 11:25; Alma 5:34) and/or Christ (e.g.,
Ether 12:28; Moro 7:11).
Regarding “cast out”: On the one hand, unbelief can cause the seed to be cast out (vv. 28,
38). On the other hand, the seed will be cast out, justifiably (presumably), if it doesn’t
grow (v. 32). So, whether the Zoramite poor were cast out “justifiably” or not seems to
depend on whether the Zoramite poor truly humble themselves or not. I think this is,
indeed, very interesting, but I’m still not sure quite sure to make of it (so if it sounds like
I’m just restating points you and others have previously made, it’s because I’m just trying
to rethink this through aloud…). One thought is that we can read these two casting outs
allegorically as the Fall and Final Judgment. Or perhaps we should think in terms of
three “casting out” events: the Fall with Adam and Eve being cast out; the Atonement
with Christ being cast out; and the Final Judgment with the wicked being cast out.
Thinking more in terms of Final Judgment also strikes me as interesting in light of the
theme in this chapter, somewhat implicit, of pre-judging vs. trying the experiment (I
think I made a related comment earlier regarding “space” in terms of prolongation:
giving place to the seed is parallel to God giving us a space of time to repent in Alma’s
later words to his son). If the purpose of this life is to be proven/tried (cf. Abr 3:25), with
“space” given to see if we repent, then our proper response to words that messengers
deliver to us should be to try them and give them place. Hmmm….
(Note to self: I’ve only responded to comments for vv. 37-38—add more later!)
Alma 32:37-43: The Summary that Wasn’t

August 2, 2008 by juliemariesmith 
Well, a very short discussion left me with little to summarize. But I stumbled upon
something else that I thought I’d share.
I was thinking about Alma 31:36 with its odd double referent to Alma clapping his hands
upon his co-workers. I found the word in Isaiah 55 and also found, much to my surprise,
that virtually every word of that chapter lines up with something we’ve seen in Alma 32.
I’ll reproduce Isaiah 55 in full and then comment after each verse:
1 Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come
ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.
Alms 32 ends with the note that those who plant the seed and nourish the tree will not
thirst. It stands to reason, then, that those thirsting would be those listening to Alma.
Isaiah’s reference to those with no money is obviously applicable. What Alma describes
as growing fruit that “ye shall feast upon . . . even until ye are filled”, Isaiah calls buying
without price. I like the way that the Isaiah chapter ties together the poverty of the
audience to the price-less-ness (two meanings) of the fruit that faith can produce. The
thing about the end of this verse is that there is a price for wine and milk–it just isn’t paid
by the consumer. There is a subtle but important Christology here . . .
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2 Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that
which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat yethat which is good, and let
your soul delight itself in fatness.
Isaiah’s words here would be Alma’s words to the Zoramite rich if he spoke to them:
why are you buying fancy clothes? Note also the reference to “the good”–a main theme
for Alma.
3 Incline your ear, and come unto me: hear, and your soul shall live; and I will make
an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David.
This, of course, is exactly what the Zoramite poor did.
4 Behold, I have given him for a witness to the people, a leader and commander to the
people.
. . . exactly what Alma is.
5 Behold, thou shalt call a nation that thou knowest not, and nations thatknew not
thee shall run unto thee because of the Lord thy God, and for the Holy One of Israel;
for he hath glorified thee.
I think it is clear from Alma’s reaction to the Zoramite prayer that he didn’t “know” this
nation and, later, when the converted Zoramite poor follow Alma et al to Jershon, they
are “run[ning] unto [him] because of the Lord thy God.”
6 ¶ Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near:
Given that a new and bloodier war will soon begin, with the Zoramites in the middle,
this call to seek now seems especially pertinent.
7 Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him
return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will
abundantly pardon.
Given that the Zoramites were dissenters from the Nephites, the idea of “returning” is
especially appropriate.
8 ¶ For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith
the Lord.
I think this is an interesting commentary on the process of knowledge/faith acquisition

that Alma develops in this chapter.
9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways,
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
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This is an interesting foil to the Rameumptom–
10 For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither,
but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the
sower, and bread to the eater:
There’s that seed metaphor again. The watering (Christ=living water) that Alma left
unstated is more explicit here, buttressed also by the “bread” reference.
11 So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me
void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosperin the
thing whereto I sent it.
The “so shall” parallels “my word” to the seed of the previous verse. I can’t help but
tying this to the biggest irony that I see in Alma 30-35: Alma decides to take this mission
to the Zoramites specifically so that they won’t enter into a league with the Lamanites
and therefore threaten the peace of the Nephites. Of course, that is exactly what ends up
happening as a direct result of his mission. This verse solves, in a sense, that irony for me
by suggesting that the preaching was for God’s purposes, which may have been larger
than even Alma’s.
12 For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the
hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field
shall clap their hands.
The converted Zoramites do in fact go out–to the land of Jershon, where they are
welcomed with open arms and nourished and given land, etc.
Another way to read this verse is directed at Alma and his fellow workers: Alma’s prayer
had asked for comfort in this (sure to be) difficult Zoramite mission, which would here
be promised (=joy). Alma preaches from a hill (=break forth in singing). It is Alma who
does the clapping–Alma, who, by his own parable, is a tree because he has planted the
seed and seen the tree grow up within himself. Note that Alma 31:38 specifically
associates joy with their missionary endeavors.
13 Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the brier shall come
up the myrtle tree: and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting
sign that shall not be cut off.
My margin notes on v13 read “thorn and briar are signs of abandonment. Cypress (=fir)
and myrtle require water and cultivation and may allude to the end of the earth’s curse.”
The (the good, useful, productive, safe) tree is an everlasting sign–the sign issue is one
that Alma addresses specifically in this chapter (and, of course, with Korihor). Note also
that it is a sign that won’t be cut off (=cast out, also suggested by parallel to apply to the
thorn and briar), another major theme in this chapter.
Thoughts?
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6 Responses to “Alma 32:37-43: The Summary that Wasn’t”
1. on August 2, 2008 at 8:33 pm1 juliemariesmith
Sorry for weird formatting–it isn’t letting me insert any spaces right now.
Interestingly, this chapter of Isaiah is linked to our ‘being cast out of the synagogue
theme’ elsewhere in the Book of Mormon as well:
2 Nephi 26:25-26:
25 Behold, doth he cry unto any, saying: Depart from me? Behold, I say unto you, Nay;
but he saith: Come unto me all ye ends of the earth, buy milk and honey, without money
and without price.
26 Behold, hath he commanded any that they should depart out of the synagogues, or
out of the houses of worship? Behold, I say unto you, Nay.
Very interesting, Julie. I think you may have a hard time making the case that Alma (or
Mormon, or another editor) is explicitly quoting from Isaiah 55 (though if you could
build a strong case, I’d be very interested!), but it does seem that there are indeed
interesting themes that overlap and interact. I would think that an “easier” and more
plausible story would be that Isaiah and Alma are both drawing on a shared common
source, or something, that we don’t have access to—perhaps by Zenos a la Jacob 5, since
Alma explicitly quotes Zenos and in Alma 33 and the tree theme is in common. Although
it probably wouldn’t be worth getting too distracted by this, I do think that if you’re
going to focus on reading Alma 32 via Isaiah 55, you’ll want to give stronger motivation
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than the somewhat vague (though provocative) similarities you mention above. Anyway,
I’m excited to see what you come up with.
Robert, I don’t think Alma (et al) was quoting. When we have BoM writers quoting from
Isaiah, that’s usually fairly obvious, and I think it is clear that that isn’t what we have
here. I think the possible explanations for the similarities run something like this:
(1) There is no inherent relationship between the two texts (but we might still profit from
reading them in the light of each, some intertextualists and some scriptural
hermeneutists would say).
(2) Alma (et al) deliberately crafted the account to allude to the Isaiah text (which
presumably they had since 55:1 is quoted 2x in the BoM).
(3) Isaiah was prophesying of this event (a hard sell to be sure but I don’t like to leave it
off the table).
(4) As you mention, Alma and Isaiah may be drawing on a common source, although I
think this would explain some similarities (word=seed) better than others (trees
clapping).
My guess at this point is that I can make a strong-but-not-airtight case for (2), although I
think the project has merit even if we just settle for (1).
Julie, yes, I like how you’ve articulated these four possibilities.
I had to look up the 2 quotations of Isaiah 55:1 (I could only remember 2 Nephi 9:50). I’m
presuming you had 2 Ne 26:25 in mind as the other quotation. What caught my interest
in looking this up, however, is Alma 1:20 which reads (my emphasis):
Yea, they did persecute them, and afflict them with all manner of words, and this
because of their humility; because they were not proud in their own eyes, and
because they did impart the word of God, one with another, without money and without price.
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Reading this is enough to change me from skeptic to believer—that is, I think the
“without money and without price” quotation of Isaiah is strong support for the idea that
Isaiah (55:1 in particular) is clearly in the forefront of the mind of the redactor of the Book
of Alma.
Also, I think the play on the word word in this verse (1:20) is fascinating in light of
chapter 32, esp. in the way the words are used to persecute those that belong to the
church, “because of their humility”.
Looking at these larger textual themes will surely be a productive exercise….
(I just noticed that searching at lds.org for the terms “without” and “money” also adds 3
Ne 20:38 as a cross-reference, quoting Isa 52:3: “ye have sold yourselves for naught, and
ye shall be redeemed without money”—interestingly, 2 Ne 9:50 doesn’t show up with
this search, though both terms occur. My confidence in the lds.org search engine has just
dropped significantly!)
6. on August 9, 2008 at 3:38 pm6 joespencer
Sorry I’ve not gotten around to reading this until this morning. Julie! This is fantastic! I’m
very eager to hear your paper!
—THE END—
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“An Experiment on the Word”

Complete Seminar Transcript

A Mormon Theology Seminar

Of course, it is hardly a unique interpretive approach to this chapter to take it up in terms

Korihor and Zoramite Idolatry

Alma 30 deserves a series of seminars in and of itself: it is a remarkably complex chapter,

This typology of interpretations of fasting aligns the Nephites in Zarahemla, taken

In the actual confrontation between Alma and Korihor—now understand as a subjective

Importantly, Korihor again and again ties the theme of transcendence/immanence to

30:33 — The mention of law here deserves more attention.

30:43 — Signs are tied explicitly to power.

1. on June 2, 2008 at 4:24 am faulconj

8. I’ve always been struck by the Nietzschean tone of 30:23.

2. on June 2, 2008 at 3:02 pm2 joespencer

3. on June 2, 2008 at 3:46 pm3 faulconj

4. on June 2, 2008 at 4:34 pm4 Robert C.

5. on June 2, 2008 at 10:44 pm jennywebb

6. on June 3, 2008 at 2:17 am jennywebb

7. on June 3, 2008 at 11:06 am7 Robert C.

8. on June 3, 2008 at 10:33 pm8 joespencer

9. on June 3, 2008 at 11:35 pm9 faulconj

10. on June 4, 2008 at 4:18 am10 joespencer

11. on June 4, 2008 at 4:26 am11 juliemariesmith

“the whole in their logic”

Some random thoughts:

30:47 In what ways were his words flattering?

12. on June 4, 2008 at 4:28 am12 juliemariesmith

13. on June 4, 2008 at 8:17 pm13 Robert C.

14. on June 4, 2008 at 8:22 pm14 Adam Miller

A couple of (general) thoughts of my own about Alma 30:

To be anti-Christ is to be anti-prophecy. Could we say that to be anti-Christ is to militate

Doesn’t Korihor’s position primarily consist of an appeal to a “flat” temporality in which

15. on June 4, 2008 at 8:40 pm15 jennywebb

16. on June 5, 2008 at 12:42 am16 Adam Miller

17. on June 5, 2008 at 11:00 am17 Adam Miller

A couple of brief thoughts about Alma 31:

This distinction leads us directly back to the question of justice.

In vs. 38 this freedom from “ornamentally compulsive thinking,” this ego-amnesia, is

18. on June 7, 2008 at 10:10 pm18 Robert C.

Regarding Alma’s lament in Alma 31:

20. on June 7, 2008 at 11:23 pm20 joespencer

I’ll try both to respond and to summarize tomorrow.

I think a couple interesting cross-references regarding this topic are as follows:

22. on June 8, 2008 at 2:35 am22 jennywebb

23. on June 8, 2008 at 3:15 pm23 joespencer

Adam asks: “Doesn’t Korihor’s position primarily consist of an appeal to a “flat”

Faith as amnesia… brilliant!

24. on June 8, 2008 at 6:29 pm24 Robert C.

26. on June 9, 2008 at 8:03 pm26 Adam Miller

27. on June 9, 2008 at 11:02 pm27 joespencer

28. on June 10, 2008 at 1:30 am28 Robert C.

Discussion Summary: Alma 30-31

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

1. on June 13, 2008 at 3:04 am1 faulconj

2. on June 13, 2008 at 4:19 am2 joespencer

3. on June 18, 2008 at 11:21 pm3 jennywebb

4. on June 19, 2008 at 6:16 pm4 joespencer

4 Thou art/wast merciful:

Posted in Uncategorized | 15 Comments

1. on June 9, 2008 at 4:34 pm1 Robert C.

2. on June 9, 2008 at 4:40 pm2 Robert C.

3. on June 9, 2008 at 8:08 pm3 Adam Miller

4. on June 9, 2008 at 8:50 pm4 Adam Miller

“whether they should believe in one God”

1. on June 2, 2008 at 4:24 am faulconj

5. on June 2, 2008 at 10:44 pm jennywebb

6. on June 3, 2008 at 2:17 am jennywebb