Joseph Spencer Wonder of Scripture

Transcript

Joseph Spencer: Thank you. First, just thanks to Kim and to Kristian for inviting me to do this, to Rosalynde and JB for hosting me here. It's a real pleasure. And thanks in advance to my son Jacob, who provided some digital art that will be in my slides at one point. So I will get started. The wonder of Scripture. That's the title of this lecture series, Book of Mormon scholar that I am. That title draws my mind to a passage in our Keystone scripture. It's a passage where the word "wonder" is used in connection with people's responses to sacred records, to Scripture. You see tucked away somewhere, most of us wouldn't think to look, the Book of Mormon stage is a remarkable scene that's precisely about the wonder of Scripture. That's just a little too appropriate. And so if you'll indulge me, I'd like to examine that scene today. Make sure this is working. Oh, it is okay. We're good.

I'm going to argue that Mormon, serving simultaneously in his role as prophet of the Lord and in his role as literary architect, intends for readers of that scene to reflect on whether they're responding in the right way to the written word of God. This intention is only subtly present in the text. Mormon is doing this delicately, yet his literary intention can, I think, be brought out with some real spiritual force, and for my money, seeing what Mormon does both prophetically and literarily in this passage might teach us much about what it means to recognize the wonder of Scripture. As you might be sensing already, what I'm going to do is a bit scholarly. It's going to be a bit technical, even as I'm going to try to make you feel its spiritual power strongly. And maybe some of you are just a little nervous about whether it's a great idea to get so academic when we're looking at something sacred like the Book of Mormon. So let me say a word about that before I turn directly to the text of the Book of Mormon.

There are, broadly speaking, two very different kinds of feelings that call us to the task of rigorous thinking, that call us to pick up the tools of reason and apply them to something The first is a feeling that something's wrong, that the way things are doesn't match up with the way things ought to be. When this feeling mobilizes scholarship, thinking tends to take on an instrumental shape that is thinking tends to give itself to figuring out how to get from point A, how things are, to point B, how things ought to be. Further, it's worth noting that you can't have this feeling without believing that you're ignorant only of means and methods. That is, you don't put thinking to the task of righting a wrong unless you feel that you already know both how things are and how things ought to be. You don't think about whether you You're right about any of that, but rather only about how to move the world and the direction you're sure it ought to be heading. There's the first kind of feeling, but there's a fundamentally different sort of feeling that can call us to the task of rigorous thinking. It's a feeling of, and here's that word again, "wonder", a feeling that the marvelous mystery of what is cries out for devoted reflection. When this other feeling mobilizes scholarship, thinking tends to take on a philosophical shape. That is thinking tends to refuse the impulse to produce results or change the world. It's enough just to celebrate something marvelous by giving your mind to it further. It's worth emphasizing that this feeling begins and usually ends in a deep sense of one one's own ignorance. That is, you wonder precisely because you don't know and you never assume that your understanding will be fully adequate to the thing given its immensity and mystery. You're happy just to be among those who celebrate it. Now it's no exaggeration to say that the first of these two feelings has largely drowned out the other in the world of scholarship in the 21st century, the prevailing dogma of our times, one shared across the political spectrum, and just as much at home and religious as in secular contexts, is that we ought to invest our resources only in what yields concrete results. That attitude has driven a decades long campaign that has penetrated deep into the territory of scholarship. Once, we held that our taxes and our tithing, our time and our tuition were worth lavishing on institutions where people study for the sheer love of the good, the true and the beautiful. Today, generally speaking, the university is a battleground where different visions of what's wrong lead to competing parties vying for scarce resources as they devise means and methods for writing the world as they see it, the university is thus a place today where principle tends to give way to strategy and agendas are the order of the day. And an institution, the University, that was never built for production, has found that it's difficult to meet the demands being made of it. One of the very last spaces secured for devotion to something higher is being lost. There's much reason to rejoice then at the very title of this series. Three Cheers. 1000 cheers for BYU sponsorship of thinking that still begins in wonder. So yes, I'm going to get a little scholarly here. I'm going to let you see the deepest devotion I can muster as an academic, the covenanted consecration of my mind to the Word of God. The Book of Mormon, with its witness of our Savior and its articulation of the Covenant, work that President Nelson has repeatedly told us, is the most important work going on on both sides of the veil. The Book of Mormon deserves nothing less than the best my mind can offer and the best my mind can offer gets, well, a little technical at times. So if you're willing to wonder with me, let's get started.

Here's the scene from The Book of Mormon that's calling me today. It's found in Mosiah 25 one through 11, and it takes place just after a major reunion of peoples in the land of Zarahemla. The Book of Mosiah can be a bit complicated, but maybe you'll remember that it tells of a Nephite colony settled in the midst of the Lamanites, far from the Nephite capital of Zarahemla, after relative peace during the time of the colony's first king, King Zeniff, and then a string of atrocities during the time of his son, King Noah, King Limhi and his people find themselves in bondage to the Lamanites surrounding them. Moreover, after Noah's regime murders the prophet of Abinadi, a small group within from within the colony, flees with Alma to settle in the wilderness, but they also soon find themselves in bondage, but thanks be to God's everlasting goodness, both Limhi's people and Alma's people escape and return to Zarahemla to safety. The gathering reported in Mosiah 25 one through 11 constitutes the public meeting in which all those who had tarried in the land of Zarahemla during all this complicated history learn about what has been happening elsewhere. Now this gathering of peoples reported here is just as much a gathering of records. You can see that once the people had come together, Mosiah did read and cause to be read the records of Zeniff to his peoples, and he also read the accounts of Alma and his brethren. And then here's what especially calls me to think at this point, the fact that the result of encountering these sacred records produces wonder in Mosiah's people. We're going to come back to some details in this passage in a bit, but it's important first to examine what Mormon seems to be doing and presenting us with a scriptural scene about people responding to Scripture. The scene is, I think, a marvelous example of a literary device that usually goes by the French name of “mise en abyme.”

In pictorial art, “mise en abyme” just names the inclusion within a work of art of a similar, a smaller version of the same larger work of art. Imagine, for example, that you're standing in a museum looking at a painting that's hanging on the wall before you. It's provocatively a painting of a gallery filled with paintings on the walls. But then when you look closely, you see that one of the paintings hanging on the wall, zooming in, seeing it is a smaller reproduction of the very painting of the gallery that's hanging on the wall before you. The result is a kind of reflection to eternity, because you know that if you could blow the painting up big enough, you'd be able to see within the painting hanging on the wall, within the painting hanging on the wall, yet another painting hanging on a wall that reproduces the painting hanging on the wall in the painting hanging on the wall that you're standing in the museum and looking at. If you could keep blowing the picture up, this could go on forever. That's great fun, but there are subtler forms of “mise en abyme” as well. One, for example, wouldn't have the same painting hanging on the wall within the painting that's hanging on the wall before you, but it might make clear in various ways that you're looking at a painting, about painting, and so that the painting you're looking at, if you interpret it wisely and well, tells you something about how you ought to look at it, because it says something about what a painting is. Thus “mise en abyme”, whether in this subtler or in the more overt form, gives a work of art a kind of self consciousness, a reflexivity that allows it to say something to the viewer about what the thing is supposed to mean. The savvy viewer is supposed to feel drawn into the work of art, not only by its beauty or by its straightforward content, but also by the question it seems to pose deliberately about itself. You're getting the picture here? Uses of “mise en abyme” can be found all through the world of art, and they're just as common in the world of literature. You've maybe read a novel in which the very novel you're reading is part of the plot of the novel. That's overt “mise en abyme.” But again, there are subtler forms. A novel about a struggling novelist presumably means to raise questions about how much you should trust the story you're reading, or a tragic novel that contains a scene in which characters discuss the nature of tragedy is likely asking you to reflect on what makes the very novel you're reading tragic. Good?

But now let's bring all this back to Mosiah. 25 one through 11, King Mosiah gathers his people and reads to them two records. The first, the text calls the records of the people of Zeniff, from the time they left the land of Zarahemla until the time they returned again. The second, the text calls the accounts of Alma and his brethren and all their afflictions, from the time they left the land of Zarahemla until the time they returned again. Those titles should jump out at any reflective reader of the book of Mosiah. Why? Because the reader has encountered them or something very much like them before. Just before the start of Mosiah chapter nine, one finds a kind of title, “the record of Zeniff”, with a line or so of explanation “following an account of his people from the time they left the land of Zarahemla until the time that they were delivered out of the hands of the Lamanites.” And then again, just before the start of Mosiah, chapter 23 one finds something similar, “an account of Alma and the people of the Lord which was driven into the wilderness by the people of King Noah.” These titles or headings aren't exactly the same as what you find in Mosiah 25 five and six, but they're more than close enough to set a careful reader thinking. Mormon as the author of Mosiah 25 one through 11 seems to be asking the reader to imagine Mosiah's people hearing read the very text the reader has just herself been reading. We have a bit of a “mise en abyme” here. Within the book we're reading, the people whose story is told in the book are reading the part of the book we've ourselves just finished reading. Mormon seems to hope we'll see in them a mirror image of ourselves.

All this lends to Mosiah 25 one through 11, a kind of reflexivity, or even a kind of self consciousness. It's as if at this moment, we hear the book of Mosiah posing a question to us about how we're supposed to react to, how we're supposed to think about what we've so far read of the book of Mosiah. Because just as soon as Mormon has us picture the people reading the previous 16 chapters of the book of Mosiah with us, he begins talking about how those people react to the records we've just read. How can that not subtly pose to us the question of whether we're reacting to the records we've just read in the right way? Here are the key lines. “And now, when Mosiah had made an end of reading the records his people who tarried in the land, were struck with wonder and amazement, for they knew not what to think.” With his subtle “mise en abyme”, Mormon seems to ask us whether we're appropriately struck by what we've been reading, whether we're filled with wonder and amazement, whether we're at all sure what we ought to think. Isn't this marvelous? If I'm not simply making things up, and Heaven knows, I very much could be, Mormon seems here to use a clever literary device to ask us as readers whether we're rightly attuned to the wonder of Scripture. He uses a clever literary device to ask us readers what it is that gets us to think as we read the scriptural volume he's prophetically producing for us. It's as if Mormon has mustered his literary resources here to make us suspend our reading of scripture for a few minutes to reflect on just what we're doing when we read Scripture. What have you been reading? He asks, how has it struck you? What do you think about it? And He lets us know that we ought to be sitting in wonder, unsure what to think, but ready to give all our minds to this text.

Now that's fun already, but I think I've actually been underselling all of this to you so far. The force of Mormons move here is, I think, intended to be much stronger than I've been letting on, but that's something we can't see unless we're really paying attention, and especially paying attention to original chapters. So I want to go deeper, and that requires a little setup. Perhaps you're familiar with the fact that in the 1870s Orson Pratt produced a new edition of The Book of Mormon that was intended for study. He divided the volumes longer chapters into smaller ones, divided the whole text into verses for the first time and introduced crossed references and interpretive notes at the bottom of the page. That new edition, which appeared in 1879 marked a major advance in Book of Mormon study, and it quickly became the standard text for citation and commentary. The thing did so much good, but one side effect was that readers soon became unfamiliar with the original chapter divisions in the Book of Mormon. Chapter divisions that were part of the inspired translation process and that I'm convinced can be shown to go back to the original ancient authors. When we're trying to understand the literary form of the Book of Mormon, we have to pay attention to original chapter breaks instead of Elder Pratt’s chapter breaks, the latter weren't intended to reveal anything about literary form, but to make for a standard system of citation and for something approaching consistency in Chapter length–helpful for many kinds of readers, but not for all purposes.

Now, why is all of this relevant here? Well, if you're pretty familiar with the book of Mosiah. It might surprise you to learn that the whole of Mosiah, 23 through 27 is one original chapter. The scene we've been considering doesn't, as you might naturally feel it should. It doesn't come at the beginning of a new chapter. It comes rather, very much in the middle of a longer story. Now, why might it feel natural to have Mosiah, 25 one through 11 come at the beginning of a new chapter? Well, with Mormons talk of Mosiah reading two accounts to his people, both stretching down until the time each record’s creator has returned again to Zarahemla it maybe feels a little like we've closed those two periods of Nephite history. We've gone with the people of Zeniff through Noah's oppressions and into the challenges of Limhi’s reign, until they've resettled themselves in Zarahemla and all as well. And we've gone with the people of Alma out of Noah's kingdom into the wilderness and then out of bondage and back to Zarahemla, where, again, all is well. Indeed, it quite naturally feels like our passage in Mosiah 25 one through 11 finally brings us as readers back to where we left off in order to read those records of Zeniff and Alma. The interruptions and aberrations are over, and we're free to get back to normal life in Mosiah's kingdom. Sure, we're left to wonder a bit at all that's been happening off in that temporary colony, but the colonists and even Alma’s church are soon enough integrated back into everyday life in Zarahemla, and we can just move on. That's certainly how Mosiah 25 one through 11 felt to me for a long time, as if it were intended to mark new beginnings. But the original chaptering of the book of Mosiah isn't so sure we should be thinking this way.

Here are the original chapters for the whole of the book of Mosiah laid out on one slide. And a few things are worth noting here. First, let's be clear that after King Benjamin's final testimony of Christ, four original chapters the next story. This is the original chapter five. Is about a group from Zarahemla who goes to find the Zeniffite colony, led by a certain Ammon. The group arrives and learns of the plight of Limhi’s people, only to have Mormon abruptly cut off the story and throw his readers without any warning, into the history of the Zeniffite colony from its beginnings. It's a major seam in the book, almost a cliff you feel yourself having gone over. But there's an important consequence here. You don't actually have to wait until Mosiah 25 to come back to the story Mormon starts the book with and then abruptly interrupts. It's actually Mosiah 21 where the Zeniffite record catches back up to where Mormon left off, the moments of Ammons arrival. So no, I don't have a laser on that you can see it chapter nine over there. That is, it's the original chapter nine that brings you back to the end of the original chapter five, and then the original chapter 10 just continues from there with Ammon helping to bring the colonists back to Zarahemla, long before we come to our passage in Mosiah 25.

Here is what this looks like. I think the straight arrow running from left to right tracks the series of chronological events making up the main storyline in the book of Mosiah through the first 10 original chapters through today's Mosiah 22. The record of Zeniff’s people, interrupts the flow of the chronology when it shows up unannounced right after the original chapter five, but then it flows right back into the chronology at the end of the original chapter nine, so that chapter 10 can just continue with the story. Of course, the original chapter 11 follows with Mosiah 25 one through 11, right in the middle of it, and this original chapter also, or again, interrupts the flow of the chronology, but against expectation, it doesn't end like the original chapter nine, that is by flowing right back into the main storyline. It doesn't close off its story of Alma’s people the way the original chapter nine closes off the story of Zeniff’s people. Rather it catches back up to the main storyline halfway through the chapter and then keeps going. So the chapter 11 ultimately supplants, rather than supplements, the story Mormon has been telling. Literally, the record of Zeniff’s people is subordinated to the story of the people in Zarahemla, but the record of Alma’s people subordinates the story of the people in Zarahemla to itself. The story of Alma’s people isn't a necessary but ultimately very brief bit of backstory, as it might feel when we read it today, though, that's what the story of Zeniff people is. It’s a story coming out of nowhere that suddenly proclaims itself the new principal story, and makes into a back story everything that the reader initially thought was the main storyline. This is confirmed by a few points that I'll rattle off quickly if you need a quick nap. Here's your moment.

First, it's certainly of interest that the original chapter 11 is the longest original chapter in the whole of the book of Mosiah. This is a climax second as this original chapter continues to develop past the scene we've been considering, it tells of how both King Limhi from the colony and King Mosiah and Zarahemla defer to Alma and his church when it comes to religious matters. This despite the fact that these two kings each have presided over temples and priesthoods. Third, the same original chapter comes to its real climax with the famous story of the conversion of Alma’s son and of the several sons of Mosiah, that's within the same original chapter. When Alma the Younger stands and addresses the people after several unconscious days and nights, he quotes, and thus brings together both the words of King Benjamin, the clear spiritual leader in the Zarahemla story in the original chapters one through five, and the words of the Prophet Abinadi, the clear spiritual leader in the colony story in the original chapters six through 10. Everything it seems has been just a setup for the emergence of this new ecclesiastical context. And as if to put an exclamation point on all of this, Mormon concludes the original chapter 11 with a few words of celebration about the new work that Alma the Younger and the sons of Mosiah are doing in their converted condition. And Mormon borrows his concluding celebratory words from the Isaiah passage that Noah's priests forced Abinadi to interpret and that Abinadi interpreted as pointing toward a coming era of Christian preaching. “And how blessed are they?” Mormon shouts, “for they did publish peace, they did publish good tidings of good, and they did declare unto the people that the Lord reigneth.” Those are the last words of that original chapter 11.

Now that was maybe a lot, but all this suggests that we've got something like this–definitely was a lot. I'm getting parched. The real story in the book of Mosiah is that of Alma’s people from the time they settle themselves in the wilderness and really solidify their new church to the time they're collectively delivered from dissension in Zarahemla thanks to the conversion of Almas and Mosiah sons. That's the original chapter 11. Everything prior to it is really just backstory for it. But then Mosiah 25 one through 11, our passage comes only in the middle of that crucial original chapter. It doesn't mark new beginnings in Zarahemla, so much as it subordinates everything leading up to it to the story of the church's survival. It doesn't mark the moment when, at last, everyone's home and life can get back to normal. Rather, it marks the moment when people in Zarahemla don't at all know what to think and the church is about to go through a complicated new era, consequently, and now we can come back to the question of what Mormons doing in this little “mise en abyme”, when Mosiah 25 one through 11 asks its readers to pause and reflect on what they've been reading in the book of Mosiah so far, it's actually doing two things at once. First, it asks its readers to reflect on the whole story of Zeniff’s colony from its beginnings in Mosiah nine, the original chapter six, to its conclusion in Mosiah 22, the original chapter 10. “Look back on that long digression from the story of the people in Zarahemla and see what you make of it” Mormon seems to say. Second though, the passage asks its readers to reflect on the story of Almas people, which we now realize we're only in the middle of. To look back on the Zeniffite record is to look back from the original chapter 11 to the original chapters six through 10, but to consider the story of Alma’s people is to try to take in the original chapter 11 while you're still reading the chapter.

There are two very different sorts of reflections that Mormon's “mise en abyme” tries to foist on us as readers, it seems. And for that reason, I think we can say that there are two very different ways that Mormon expects us to be struck with wonder, two very different ways we might not know what to think. On the one hand, we wonder what to think about as we look back on the Zeniffite story, fully concluded. But on the other hand, we wonder what to think about as we consider the story we're still very much in the middle of. The story of Alma’s people and their church. Isn't it just a little bit interesting, then that Mormon goes on to conclude this his “mise en abyme,” this passage of ours in Mosiah, 25 one through 11 by in fact, showing us two very different forms of wondering what to think. Let's in fact, isolate those verses to make this as clear as possible. In verses eight and nine, we get the people's reflection. On the Zeniffite colony. And in verses 10 and 11, we get the people's reflection on Almas, people and their church. So there are two things to wonder at here, two ways we might experience right within Scripture, the wonder of Scripture.

Let's start with the first. In verses eight and nine, and we just said we get the people's reflection on the Zeniffite colony, we get an illustration of the kind of wonder Mormon seems to want us to experience when we look at what's decisively past in the scriptures. What do Mosiah's people see in the record of Zeniff? Well, there's so much of God's goodness on display in the colony's story, but the colonists were slow to see it, with the result that many unnecessarily lost their lives as they struggled to free themselves from a mess of their own making. What's the wonder of the scriptural past here? It has a specific form. Scripture is wonderful here because it draws out of past history, those events where God's goodness can be seen right in the middle of messy things. Scripture, in this case, refuses to let the light swallow up the dark, but it also, and especially, refuses to let the dark swallow up the light. Looking back into the scriptural past, we're reminded of a key article of our faith, that God is there in the midst of terribly unfortunate things, always calling to His children in mercy. That's a first thing to wonder at, a first thing to think rigorously about. But there's a second. In verses 10 and 11. Here we watch as Mosiah's people try to think about the story of Alma’s people. And there we get an illustration of the kind of wonder Mormon seems to want us to experience when we're considering the continuity between the past and the present. Why do I say that? Because again, Mosiah 25 one through 11 shows up right in the middle of the original chapter 11, which contains an account of Alma and the people of the Lord which was driven into the wilderness by the people of King Noah. Verses 10 and 11 show us what it looks like for a people to wonder at, to struggle to think about a story that's still going on. Here we have on display, itt seems, a kind of wonder we're to experience when we aren't trapping the scriptures in the ancient past, but rather seeing them as opening directly onto our own concrete present.

What's the wonder of Scripture when we see ourselves living out the very continuation of the scriptural past? What's the wonder of Scripture when we weren't when we aren't applying it to our lives, but when we're living out it's real continuation? Well, what do Mosiah's people see in the story of Alma’s people? Note that they see God's goodness much more immediately in this story than in that of Zeniff people. This increases their joy to the point that they can't keep quiet. They did raise their voices and give thanks to God. Looking back to the first part of the unfinished story, they react with joyful gratitude voiced, but then, don't miss this, they also look forward to what remains to be told of this unfinished story–That's verse 11, the story of God's immediate goodness isn't over because, well, there are the Lamanites. Mormon’s giving his readers an enormous hint here, telling them what the continuation of the story of Alma’s people will amount to. What does that new church formed at the waters of Mormon make possible for the first time since the Nephites separated from the Lamanites shortly after father Lehi’s death? This very church, this very people of Alma will oversee the conversion of Lamanites to Jesus Christ. Indeed, before the original chapter 11, same chapter we're in is through we'll have the sons of Mosiah fully converted and thus prepared to be inspired with the idea to go preach among the Lamanites successfully, as it will turn out, we'll also have Alma the Younger fully converted and thus prepared to take responsibility for the church that will receive those Lamanite converts when they require refuge. It's precisely as the story of Almas people the original chapter 11 continues, that the pain and anguish felt by mosiah's people here in verse 11 can be alleviated.

Here, then, is a second form that the wonder of Scripture takes. Mosiah's people let a story, they let a story that's unfinished within scripture orient them toward the future fulfillment of centuries old prophecy, and Mosiah people will indeed live to see the real fulfillment of those prophecies. It's one thing to wonder at what God has done in historical scripture to extract marvelous principles from dead letters in the hope of breathing new life into them by applying them to our present circumstances. Good, but it's another thing entirely to wonder at what God, according to prophetic scripture, is still very much in the middle of accomplishing to see that God is now at work and fulfilling the living promises contained right within the text. This is the second thing that's wonderful about scripture, or a second way to wonder at scripture, to see that we are in the flow of a still sacred history that God has chosen to enter and to bend toward the fulfillment of His covenant promises. Here's the final force of Mormon “mise en abyme.” “Wonder,” he cries to us “and give your best thinking to scripture. But let that wonder and that thinking be of two sorts.” What two sorts? First look back to the very real history that scripture reports on. Find God delivering his people again and again in that history, sift those ancient events, sort them into principles that can guide your life of faith. Live righteously and well as you look to what the past can teach you.

But then second, begin to recognize that scripture isn't locked into the past. “Isn't about ancient history,” as Elder Bednar reminded us in general conference a few weeks ago, it's about a story that begins in the past but continues into and beyond the present continues into and beyond the time when we're reading scripture. Find in the writings of the ancient prophets so many reasons to look forward in faith to Israel's full redemption, because you're living through it right now. The Scriptures aren't past, they're present, and when we read them rightly, they're pointing us squarely into a redemptive future. So do all you can to understand those prophecies, sort scripture’s promises into something that can guide the work you might do for a whole lifetime of faith. Watch for God's good work to go forward as you see what you can contribute to it.

Now, all of that in Mosiah, 25 one through 11? Man, I think so. So it is, at any rate, that as I sit with the Book of Mormon, I'm struck with wonder and amazement. I don't know what to think, though I know just how much thinking this book gets me to do. The thing is a marvel, astonishingly artful if we read it carefully enough to see how it operates. And I thrill at the way that this book puts all its artfulness to the exalted purpose of convincing us that Jesus is the Christ and that God will fulfill His covenant with Israel. We'll never catch up to the Book of Mormon's remarkable witness, but I'm happy to give my mind every day to seeing what more of it I can grasp. By the way, it isn't only Mormon who tries to convince us that this scripture is a wonder, far less subtle, far blunter as always, is Nephi, who borrowing language from Isaiah, simply speaks of the coming forth of the Book of Mormon as a marvelous work and a wonder, the kind of thing that makes worldly wisdom and human understanding perish. I'm with Nephi. The book is a wonder and its work, its prophetic work, its pastoral work, its literary work, its historical work, its theological work, its work is marvelous. The Christ I know, wonderful counselor that he is, is the Christ the Nephite prophets have set before me. The covenant work I'm engaged in announcing this wonder to the world is the work this book has set me to.

I bear my witness of that Christ and testify of the promises he gave to these ancient prophets in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

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