Vort

I didn't. That was my attempt at a joke. I did plan to go to med school, but after I got married I saw the high divorce rate for med school students and decided I wasn't a good enough student to breeze through medical school. So I decided to try a route more conducive to staying married.

I don't mention this much in mixed company, but the ugly truth is that I don't really like Lewis's The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe series. I especially dislike how it ends. Nevertheless, there's a lot of very good writing and bon mots* in them. * Linguistic note: I just asked my wife why it's bon mots and not bons mots. Don't French adjectives agree in number and gender with the nouns they modify? I wouldn't say les bon choses; I would say les bonnes choses. Her authoritative explanation: bon mot is A Thing, and as A Thing it's used as a unit. So the bon doesn't change**. **Note to the note: A quick consultation of online dictionaries suggest that bons mots is indeed an acceptable plural for bon mot, but that bon mots is also correct. Don't know which is the more common one. Maybe Frenchies use the grammatically correct plural and English speakers just stick an S on the end. Sister Vort is effectively a Frenchie, though not having gone to the Sorbonne (she married some doofus instead), she may have just adopted the English-speaking way.

The medical term is "aphasia". I decided some time ago that Korihor was made aphasiac, probably from something as simple as a blood clot in the brain. By small and simple means God brings to pass great things (cf. Alma 37:6). EDIT: By the way, aphasia would mean that Korihor was not made deaf, but simply could not understand any spoken language. Aphasiacs often retain the ability to read, since that's controlled by a different part of the brain. (Or so I've been told. It's been a while since I actually practiced medicine.)

You're within one letter of being correct.

DST exists in the eternities only for those in outer darkness.

And that God is good, and that he loves you.

I doubt if I have ever had a truly original thought in my entire life. I have little doubt that most or all of my immense insight into the Book of Mormon was had by the early Saints before 1835.

How funny. I've been saying the same thing for a dozen years now.

People who live on the edge like this frighten me.

As Korihor himself admitted, he was seduced by the "angel"'s teachings: And I have taught his words; and I taught them 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 were true; and for this cause I withstood the truth, even until I have brought this great curse upon me. When I was a young man, I thought this was exceptional, really almost unbelievable. I'm now 60, and I find it utterly convincing. This is exactly how people approach things. Robocop quotes win the day.

The Book of Mormon was translated into normal English, where "anti-" is a Greek and Latin prefix that carries the same meaning that it always does in English. The proposition is that, in addition to this normal meaning, the Book of Mormon contains the prefix "anti-" (in "anti-Nephi-Lehies") where it has a different etymology, coming from an Egyptian root and carrying a different meaning.

Is your heart pure and your eye single to God's glory? If so, you have nothing to worry about, my friend.

zpeel, I can feel your frustration, and you have my sympathy. But you're mistaken. I don't think I can put this in any way that will make sense to you, but let me try. Think of a stunningly beautiful young woman. This young woman is so incredibly beautiful because she won the genetic lottery and just happens to have a willowy body, a gorgeous face with perfectly proportioned features, a soft, buttery, flawless complexion, and cascading hair that perfectly accentuates her other attributes. But in addition to his, she follows a strict beauty regime of diet, exercise, skin care, and sparse but effective use of makeup. One day, God says to this young woman (perhaps through a bishop or other ecclesiastical leader, or through her parents, or directly to her), "I want you to go forth and serve me in such-and-such capacity." The young woman responds, "I can't do that. I have to take care of my skin. I spend over an hour a day just on my hair! My workout routine won't take care of itself, and it takes me time to prepare my food so I can follow my diet regimen strictly." What is this beautiful young woman saying? In effect, she is saying, "God, you may want me to do such-and-such a thing, but I'm not going to do it. I'm much too involved in keeping myself perfectly beautiful. I realize you want me to serve you and perform service and maybe miracles among your children, but my beauty regimen is far too important to me to make such a sacrifice." Is this a moral issue? You bet it's a moral issue. God, who has given this young woman all the gifts she now enjoys, requires something of her, but she won't give it. Why not? Vanity. Foolishness. Ingratitude. This young woman would literally rather people suffer from lack of her ministration than give up her vanity, think of others more than herself, and dedicate herself to her Father's work. As a result, she will never gain the infinite blessings she might have gained. She will have traded those priceless, eternal blessings for a mess of pottage called "being pretty". The irony here is that all of her beauty will quickly fade within a few years—if she's very, very lucky, within a few decades—and leave her with nothing of substance. She'll be just another old lady, someone who used to be stunningly beautiful when she was young, perhaps still "well-preserved" but no longer admired universally for her matchless beauty. Because her beauty was transitory, the beauty of youth, the kind of beauty that inevitably fades away. You have been given blessings from your Father. You have also been given commandments and expectations regarding your duty to God. You are given the opportunity to live the law of sacrifice, wherein you put your own desires aside and do what God wants you to do. You have been (or will be) given the Priesthood of Jesus Christ, authorizing you to literally act in Christ's name. And you want to give up these tremendous eternal blessings—why? So you can lift weights and be shredded? My advice to you is: Put aside those vain ambitions. If you really care that much about bodybuilding, take a year or two after you return from your mission to get back your coveted physique. In the meantime, go serve your God by doing whatever it is he requires of you, including giving up bodybuilding for a time. Don't lift; don't even think about it. Put your mind to your service. Do your duty; that is best. Leave unto the Lord the rest.

How about your feet?

That's funny. If literally no one cares about Christians celebrating Christmas, why did I receive pushback last year for wishing people a "merry Christmas"? Curious to find out why my inoffensive well-wishing statement raised the hackles of some precious souls. Which holidays other than Christmas that exist in December do you think Christians care so much about? I want to become familiar with these other December holidays that Christians care so much about.

Responding first to your experience: I'm sorry to hear it. I can't judge, because I don't know you well enough and don't know the elder at all, but from your description it certainly does sound manipulative. I'm willing to believe the elder may only have been overly ambitious and trying to convince rather than manipulate; I have seen that people who grow up in certain family situations and internalize certain behavioral principles sometimes can seem manipulative and even conniving when their intent is honorable. But even if that is true, I hope he learned not to put things in such terms, which I fully agree seems like nasty manipulation. As for the question: The easy answer is that, no, not acting upon a testimony is not as bad as forsaking a covenant. But upon reflection, the two things are intimately related, and you could argue that a testimony is a fruit of the Spirit and evidence of a sort of implicit covenant, and therefore that ignoring or acting against a spiritual testimony is an example of forsaking a covenant, though certainly less so than forsaking a formal covenant such as baptism or other temple covenants. Not sure how useful it is to think of things in those terms. The purpose of such teachings is to illuminate, not to condemn. The condemnation, if appropriate, comes as a natural outgrowth of the teaching you're illuminating, and is not the central point. I am told that the word "gospel" means "good news", so any gospel preaching should be good news. As Hugh Nibley once said, angels invariably bring good news, even when it's phrased in such a way as to condemn (e.g. the angel telling Alma the younger to leave off his efforts to harm the Church, even if he of himself would be destroyed). If we are messengers of God's word, then by definition we are angels, and should therefore speak with the tongue of angels. Nephi had something to say about that.

I think it's great to have a major holiday, and a religiously inspired holiday at that (that is, an actual holiday), right at the winter solstice when it's dark and the weather is cold and uninviting. How nice to have a time when we're supposed to think about others and give them gifts. Sure, many will abuse such a thing, be cynical about it, whatever. But it's a nice idea. Christmas is my second-favorite holiday, right behind Thanksgiving, both calendrically and in my personal priority list.

You're very welcome. This is one lesson the Book of Mormon drives home: When you make covenants with God, those covenants protect you as long as you take them seriously. But swearing an oath to God is a terrible thing, one that you must never do casually. Those who take their covenants casually are in danger of abandoning them altogether, and those who abandon their covenants are left literally in the power of the evil one, and will likely become hardened and impenitent. You can repent from such a state, but it is a hard road, one that many or most in that position will refuse to take. (One reason why Zeezrom stands out so much as a character; one of few people in the Book of Mormon, along with Alma the younger, Alma's son Corianton, and a few others—Aminadab comes to mind—who abandoned their covenants but subsequently repented. It can happen, but it's not the norm.) So if you make a sacred covenant with God, the Book of Mormon strongly advises you to take it seriously and not to abandon it. The general feel seems to be that if you are not going to take your divine covenants seriously and really strive to live by them, you are probably better off not entering into the covenants at all. This is an hard saying; who can hear it?

That comment was directed as a commentary, not about the anti-Nephi-Lehies, but about the Amalekites and Amulonites, former Nephites who left the Nephites and who were responsible for most of the 1000+ killings among the anti-Nephi-Lehies. They had once believed and been covenant people, but at this time had become so hardened that they gladly slaughtered unarmed, defenseless men (maybe women and children, too) just for the pure enjoyment of exercising their hatred.

Apparently this was not uncommon in the ancient middle east - at least, that's what @Traveler tells us. The vassal kingship was not uncommon anciently. Feudal England was a vassal state under John Lackland, with the king of France, Phillip II, as the overlord king (I believe "suzerain" is the correct term). Actually, I'm not sure that England was technically part of John's vassalage to Phillip II. John may have been a vassal to Phillip only with the continental territories in Normandy, which he ended up losing (and which I believe is why he was called "Lackland"). Not exactly sure how the vassal kingship worked in Europe. Maybe someone who understands this better can clarify. The point is, this sort of vassal kingship is not unique to the Book of Mormon, or even particularly rare in historical terms. My testimony of the Book of Mormon comes from its application in my life and the spiritual assurance I have received, but evidence such as a vassal kingship seamlessly woven into the text of the Book of Mormon and mentioned casually, almost in passing terms, suggests an author who had little idea that the situation of a vassal king might not be immediately obvious to the reader. That author would then certainly not be Joseph Smith, or for that matter anyone I can imagine living in America at that time.

I have no idea. I don't recall ever hearing the complete song, let alone poe-tar-toe (regardless of where the emphasis is), only puh-TAY-toe and puh-TAH-toe. Jamie's spelling is phonetic when you factor in the non-rhotic British R, which would come only after a "short" ä, not a "long" ã (using "short" and "long" in the weird, stupid way they're used in describing English vowel pronunciation). So the word "tar" would be pronounced "tah" (or /ta:/) by a Brit, and therefore "potartoe" would be "poh-tah-toh" (technically, /pə ˈtɑː təʊ/).

Ewwwwwww! (We really need that icon, @pam.)

[...] PS: The index pluralizes it thusly: Anti-Nephi-Lehies. You say potato and I say potatoe... -ies it is. I wouldn't mind getting proven wrong, except that it happens so often.

"Anti" means "against" as in "opposite to", which does not necessarily mean "unlike". Consider e.g. the antipodes. I have wondered if the term means those Lehites who were adjacent to Nephi—that is, Lehites who would follow Nephi though were not of Nephi, rejecting the ancestral term "Laman", the way the (Nephite) children of Noah's priests cast off their ancestral names and turned their backs on their wicked fathers. In any case, your question has long been a topic of conversation among Latter-day Saints. I know of no authoritative answer. As a Nibleyphile, I give his opinion a lot of weight. But this is basically a topic of speculation until God, or perhaps a resurrected Mormon (or Joseph Smith), fills us in on the details.