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Enos Encoded: Narrative Structure in the Small Plates

If the Book of Mormon possesses, in the words of the late Elder Neal A. Maxwell, “divine architecture,” then it follows that one task of theology ought to be to seek God in the structure of the book. In this vein, Adam Miller argues that “theological readings aim to develop a text’s latent images of Christ.” Given that the Book of Mormon is, whatever else it may be, a narrative, then those searching for God in it would do well to pay attention to the ways the text’s narrative structure (i.e., its “divine architecture”) develops “latent images of Christ.” Miller gestures toward a methodology for divining Christ in texts when he writes that the power of theology “derives from its freedom to pose hypothetical questions: if such and such were the case, then what meaningful pattern would the text produce in response?” In what follows I offer such a theological reading of the small plates of Nephi, paying particular attention to the book of Enos.

The Impact of Lester Bush’s Dialogue Essay

[…] policy relative to any individual of African heritage was a capstone in my personal journey relative to Black Mormons and the priesthood. There is no doubt, each paragraph felt like intellectual “manna from heaven” […]

Gethsemane and Atonement Again

[…] his statement: even Jesus was tried. James E. Talmage, The Articles of Faith (Salt Lake City: Deseret News, 1899), 76–87, esp. 80–81, where Talmage writes about “The Atonement” in terms of Jesus’ death and […]

Call For Papers: "Global Antisemitism: A Crisis of Modernity"

[…] genocidal antisemitic discourse as a social movement, and the limited response to it by the human rights community, this could point to a possible crisis of modernity.  This conference aims to explore this discursive […]

By the Numbers

[…] constant intervention, I think the entire universe would give in to entropy and flush itself down a black hole. It was as if she stood next to him, laughing him back to self-proportion. *** […]

No More Sister than St. Nick

[…] better: she was a weeper whose every fourth word was a gasping sob, her makeup smearing like black clown tears down her face. Vernie concentrated on his poem. “Sheeple” wasn’t a word, so he […]