Proliferate, Prodigious, Pollinating

Contributed by Kristen

I started this year’s storytelling efforts around the D&C with an alliteration (my signature move) about truth: proliferate, prodigious, pollinating. Truth is not like a mirror, or a singularity. Truth is like a multitude. Like an ocean. Like a changing forest. Like a field of wild strawberries. Which means, for me, that truth has the capacity to be, in practicality, exceedingly messy.

The Latter-day Saint belief in personal revelation is not necessarily unique in the Christian tradition. There is a long history of theology professing the importance of a personal, intimate relationship with God, ranging from the aesthetic mystical tradition to the more orthodox Augustinian emphasis on the potential of relationship with the divine. The idea of God speaking to individuals in authoritative ways, however, gets a little trickier as it lands in Joseph Smith’s Protestant landscape.

Historically, the prophetic tradition is connected to a larger metaphysical discussion of God’s being. Prophets called of God, in this understanding, have a limited participation in the mind of God, through which they speak as God’s mouthpiece. Importantly, they do not communicate God’s word from their own beings (because humans simply cannot get close enough to the divine to warrant this closeness), but only as vehicles. One of the things that Martin Luther challenged during the reformation movement was the idea of God’s exclusionary communication. He articulated what is known as the “priesthood of all believers,” by which he meant that there is no meaningful distinction between priests and laity (this is a very accessible overview). Everyone has equal access (and equal importance/unimportance) to and before God. There isn’t a hierarchy in access to God’s voice and direction. This doctrine gets applied in a variety of different ways across the movement and through various factions, but it’s important to understand the original distinction Luther was making: the priesthood is a ministry, not a right to power over others. This is why Luther insists on a closed cannon, because he is so opposed to a hierarchy of access to God’s voice for the sake of power over others. A closed canon of revelation, moreover, does not mean that Luther or other reformers thought God had stopped speaking (a common misconception) but rather that God was not going to suddenly contradict God’s self. For the reformers, as for most Christians, God’s word and message is complete in Jesus Christ.

For Latter-day Saints, of course, the take is somewhat different (because we do propose continuing revelation), but not really. We land in much the same arena as others on the question of who God speaks to on matters of ultimacy. In other words, we like most Christians believe that God will speak to everyone about matters of personal life, but through designated authorities about matters of universality (the specific implications of the latter are where we diverge from mainstream Protestants). The issue in discussing our view of personal revelation has to do with two separate but related concepts: what we mean by revelation, and what we mean by authority. These terms get confused and convoluted for obvious reasons, and their relationship is actually not clearly distinct—nor do they appear to be distinct for Joseph Smith. Does God speak to everyone and anyone because that is the nature of God? Or does God speak formally only through those with authority? Does God direct a specific set of doctrines and beliefs, communicated through a linear line of authority? How does God direct this authority? What does it mean? Is revelation the word of God communicated to humans? What’s the word of God? Is it always directional (i.e. here is what you must do) or emotive (a feeling) or simply a presence? Will God speak only to official authorities on some of these matters but to anyone on the others?

These questions, to my mind, are open and unresolved in the Latter-day Saint tradition. We cherish the belief in personal revelation—the idea of a proliferate, prodigious, and pollinating God. But we aren’t sure about the implications and the organization of divergent and diverse views. It is difficult to determine how to create community amid diversity, and that is the challenge and promise of personal revelation. May we keep asking.

For Littles

Contributed by Kristen

How does God speak to spiders? To monkeys? To dogs? What about to crocodiles? Does God speak to mosquitoes? Giraffes? Worms? Does God speak to you?

How does God speak to you, my child? How can you tell? I think you will learn your own answers to these questions over your life, my love. But let me share what I have learned. First, when you feel that you must be better, that you are not good enough, you are not hearing God’s voice. You are hearing your own worry. But when you hope that you can be better, that you can grow into your own goodness and wonder, God is with you. When God is speaking, you will feel courage, and love, and hope. You might not hear words, but you will feel safe. You will know that all will be well. You will know that you are good just as you are, and loved always.

Listen for God, my child, as you listen to the languages of the world. Listen for God as you listen for yourself. I am still learning. But when I am quiet enough inside, the feeling of God sits with me like a shadow. It is safe and warm. It makes me feel brave and good. And I try again, fresh every new day.

Ideas for Play

Contributed by Kristen

Read the story and talk about the languages of plants and animals
- Talk about different methods of communication. How do trees communicate?
- This magic school episode on the subject is fantastic