Who Shall acsent Flashcards
Abstract: The Psalms were originally the text of the ancient Israelite temple services. Their poetry was woven into a magnificent eight day pageant-like temple drama that depicted the full eternal sweep of the Savior’s mission and his Atonement.
Ancient Israelite religion breathes a different spirit from that observed by the remnant
of the Israelites—the Jews who returned to Jerusalem and Judea after the Babylonian
exile. The Psalms are a mirror of that earlier religion. The Psalms reflect an interest in 1)
temple; 2) kingship (of God and man); 3) Messiah; 4) creation; and 5) priesthood. With
somewhat different shades of emphasis, the Book of Mormon also shows an interest in the
same things.
Creation is central tothe worship of ancient temples and other sacred places. “Ancient temples,” writes Hugh Nibley, “rehearsed the story of the creation, and the establishment of mankind and the royal government of God upon this earth.”1
These primal creative acts were seen by peoples of the ancient Near East as having a
dynamic and not a static quality. “What happened in the beginning,” observest he great
historian of religions Raffaele Pettazzoni, “has an exemplary and defining value for what is
happening in the future.”4
Psalm 24:3-6 contains
an “entrance liturgy”5
“temple entrance hymns”6
“instructions for temple visitors”7
; but which I call, somewhat less formally,
ancient “temple worthiness” questions (which should be compared with Psalm 15 and
Isaiah 33:14-17). Elements of each of these “worthiness” psalms or “temple entrance
hymns” include the “two questions”8
: in Psalm 24:3 the two questions asked are “who
shall ascend to the mountain of the Lord? And who shall stand in his holy place?”
Palms 15:1 the questions are “Lord, who shall dwell in thy tent? Who shall reside on thy holy
mountain?” In Isaiah 33:14 they are “Who of us can dwell with the consuming fire? Who
of us can dwell with everlasting burning?” Following the “two questions” is the response:
“He who hath clean hands and a pure heart, who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity nor
sworn deceitfully” (Psalm 24:4-5); Psalm 15:2-5 contains a lengthier response:
He who walks with integrity And works righteousness
And speaks truth in his heart.
Who has not tripped upon his tongue,
Who has not done evil to his neighbor,
And has not lifted up a reproach against his relative.
The reprobate, in his eyes, is despicable, but those who fear the Lord, he will honor.
He has sworn to do no evil,
And he will not falter.
His money he has not given at interest,
Nor has he taken a bribe against the innocent” (cf. Isaiah 33: 16)
Finally, the “blessing” is invoked: “He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and
righteousness from the God of his salvation. This is the generation of them that seek him,
that seek thy face, O Jacob. Selah” (Psalm 24:5-6; cf. Psalm 15:5 and Isaiah 33: 17).
The Hymns of the Pearl presents, in elegant brevity and simplicity, man’s search for
salvation and joy. The rituals and beliefs of the pre-Exilic temple, as seen in the
Psalms—covenant, temple, Messiah, and kingship—gives a mirror of the ancient Israelites
quest for joy fulfilled.
these words attributed to the Saviour.
When you come to know yourselves, then you will become known, and you will
realize that it is you who are the sons of the living Father. But if you will not
know yourselves, you dwell in poverty, and it is you who are that poverty.”11
The most important worship service in Solomon’s Temple was a pageant-like drama
that was performed annually. Everyone in ancient Israel participated.
The world-view of that drama—and therefore, of necessity, the world-view of this
book—is eternal in both directions. The theme of both the drama and the book is the
Savior’s Atonement and its power to preserve, enhance, then finally to perfect our eternal
personalities.
Even though the ancient Jews no longer performed the drama after Solomon’s
Temple was destroyed, the Nephites preserved it. The purpose of the drama was to teach
each individual who he was, and why he is here—and do that in the context of the
Savior’s Atonement. Its principles and covenants are the theme of every sermon in the
Book of Mormon.
built in order that “those ordinances might be revealed which had been hid from
before the world was” (D&C 124:38).28 Hence, the Lord’s people in these Old
Testament times had access to at least some temple ordinances. “One has only to
read the scriptures carefully, particularly the modern scriptures,” reasons Dr.
Sidney B. Sperry, “to discover that temples [or other holy sanctuaries] must have
been built and used in great antiquity, even in the days of the antediluvian
patriarchs.” He believed that the Lord’s requirements for exaltation, and
therefore the need for temples, were the same then as they are now.
Although vicarious service for the dead was not inaugurated until New
Testament times, ordinances for the living were available during earlier
dispensations.29
New Year’s day was like that, except the sacrifices were done under proper authority,
and the feasting was an expression of thankfulness to the Lord. It was a time of promise,
not at all unlike our own New Year’s celebrations, except they took their resolutions
much more seriously.
Feast of the Tabenat
The subject of the play covered the full panoramic scope of cosmic history—from the Council in Heaven before the foundation of the world, through linear time, and concluding with Jehovah’s ultimate triumph over evil, and his reign on a glorified paradisiacal earth.38
The ancient Hebrew temple rituals were a dramatic presentation of the cosmic myth.
In that presentation, the sense of aloneness and longing for home that we find in the Hymn of the Pearl is shown to be a consequence of the fall of Adam and Eve, when they were expelled from the Garden of Eden where they had walked and talked with God. They had unrestricted access to the fruit of the tree of life and to the waters of life.
The loss of all of these things—one’s personal relationship with God,
clothing that defined one as sacred space, food and drink that kept one’s body forever
young—the loss of those things left humankind naked, vulnerable, hungry, and
increasingly feeble until only death could release them from their infirmities. Yearning to
return home was the foundation principle of the ancient Israelite religion. It was an expression of hope that somehow they might regain access to the paradisiacal world, partake of the fruit, and participate in the society of the gods. (Essentially it was the hope whose fulfillment is described in the last three chapters of the Book of Revelation.) For mankind, the wish to return to the presence of God is the wish to return to sacred time in sacred space.186 Hauglid observes that the ritualized myth of the ancient temple drama enabled people symbolically to do that.
The ultimate sacred space is God’s temple in Kolob, where God’s throne is, and
where the Council of Heaven took place.188 However, in this world, sacred space is where God and his children can come to meet together. It is the mountain top to which man must ascend, and to which God may descend.189 It is separate and apart from the profane world. It is the pinnacle of the earth. Perhaps the greatest gift that Hugh Nibley gave to Latterday Saints was that he taught us that the poetry of the Psalms and Isaiah are not just vaguely symbolic, but are carefully encoded—and Nibley has taught us much of the code—“mountain” frequently means “temple,”190
In contrast, God’s time imposes no limitations. In our physical world, we have the
ability to move back and forth in space, but not in time. In God’s world, he can move from
past to present or future as though there were neither past nor future, only an eternal Now
About the nature of our time, Neal A. Maxwell observes, “We also live in the dimension of time which, by its very nature, creates vexing suspense for us. Life is so designed that we use our moral agency by choosing for ourselves daily. This steady stream of our responses forms a cumulative record out of which wewill later be judged. This same plan, a framework for life, ensures that we are to overcome by faith, not by perfect knowledge”
by its very nature sacred time is reversible in the sense that, properly
speaking, it is a premordial mythical time made present. Every religious festival,
any liturgical time, represents the reactualization of a sacred event that took place
in a mythical past “in the beginning.” Religious participation in a festival implies
emerging from ordinary temporal duration and reintegration of the mythical time
reactualized by the festival itself. Hence sacred time is indefinitely recoverable,
indefinitely repeatable. From one point of view it could be said that it does not
“pass,” that it does not constitute an irreversible duration.210
Most relevant to each of us, personally, is that true love and eternal friendships
originate and continue in sacred space and sacred time.
The ancient Israelites understood there was a heavenly temple where the scenes of the
Council of Heaven took place.214 That Temple contained God’s heavenly throne (“the
Lord’s throne is in heaven”215)
The purpose of the ancient festival’s temple drama was to invite each participant into
sacred time where each could learn his or her own place in the universe, and see from afar the purposes of this physical space and linear time—to demonstrate that their being in this world was neither haphazard nor coincidental, but that each came here by design. Their purpose was defined by God’s covenants with all of Israel as a nation, but more
specifically by God’s covenants with each individual member of the group through the
ceremonial actions of the king.
In terms of the nation, the covenants had to do with God’s promising to secure an
environment of peace and prosperity in which the people would be free to keep their
individual covenants—a promised land.
In terms of the individual, the drama taught each one his or her own place in the plan.
The drama was important because the plan was most easily understood in the drama’s
actualizing—as an ever-new reality—the events described by the pattern of the great
cosmic myth. Thus the scenes of the drama showed why it was necessary that they leave
their celestial home to face the uncertainties of this life.It also showed that before they came here, they were, or were promised that they would be, equipped with all of the priesthood and kingship powers necessary to guarantee their success.218
While the denotations of the covenants and instructions given in the festival drama were spoken generically (that is, given in such broad terms that they were equally applicable to
everyone), the connotations could be focused on the single needs and responsibilities of
every individual—for their meanings were left to the interpretation of each individual.
When one makes those requests, one asks to enter the realm of the divine—in sacred space and sacred time. He had ascended the holy mountain and could turn and look back on the events of the drama that had brought him to the veil that now blocked his way into the Holy of Holies. Implicit in his requests was anmassertion that he had fulfilled each aspect of his assignment and he had come honestly to the mountain’s summit—he was worthy to be there.
The veil was made of fine linen. It was embroidered with threads of blue, purple and
crimson with representations of cherubim—probably representing the angels and members of the Council who stood guard before the gates of heaven. It was these guards through whom the king and each of his subjects must pass in order to approach the throne of God in the Holy of Holies
It was then, in sacred time, at the ancient temple veil, that the whole drama became
alive with meaning. The purpose of the drama was not just to reaffirm one’s eternal
identity and relationship with God. It had first been that when they were expelled from the
Garden. But its primary purpose was to provide instruction—to teach each individual how
to come to this sacred place in sacred time, and to show them how they might actualize
the final chapter of the cosmic myth—to teach each one about the way to come home
again
Ultimately, the power of the ancient temple drama lay, not in what happened and
what was said, but in what did not happen and what was not said. That is, its richness lay
in what the participants understood—just as is so with reading the scriptures. The new
initiate to the ceremonies, and the seasoned participant, each heard the same words, but the words themselves were defined by the experience and understanding that each
individual brought to bear on them.
The drama of the Feast of Tabernacles focused on the overriding power of Jehovah.
The expanse of time represented in the drama began when Jehovah, the people of Israel,
and their reigning king first made covenants in the premortal world. Then it shepherded
them through the darkness of this earthly experience to the light beyond, into the far
distant future when Jehovah himself would reign in a world of peace and security.
These were the secrets that were hidden from the foundation of the world. They had
always been hidden and they will always be hidden. For that reason they might not be
spoken except in symbols and code. All the world might be able to see the symbols, but
they may only be read and understood by those who already know the code—and the code
can only be known in the context of sacred space and sacred time.224 But it can be known.
As is recorded in the apocrypha, “Jesus said, ‘Recognize what is before you, and what is
hidden from you will be revealed to you; for there is nothing hidden that will not be
revealed.’”225
In the storyline of the ancient temple drama, as in the Hymn of the Pearl, the person
who leaves home still retains his sacredness, notwithstanding his struggle with the profane.
In the Pearl, the story of Job, even the storyline of First Nephi, and all other versions of
the cosmic myth whether they are historically true or not, it is the struggle that brings
success and qualifies one to come home again.
its question of whether Job will “inherit the earth,”
broadens, until it is a cosmic test that challenges every reader with the ultimate
provocation: “Dost thou still retain thine integrity? curse God, and die” (Job 2:9).
Job was challenged with loss of family and wealth, with physical pain and academic
snobbery, but his integrity remained intact. The great bulk of the book recounts his
struggles, but in doing so, it always reminds its reader that Job’s innate princely nature
was the underpinning of his enduring sense of Self. The story is an ever unfolding
reaffirmation of the phrase found in the Pearl: “I remembered that I was a son of kings,
And my noble birth asserted itself.” Job is a perfect example of the cosmic myth.
What is true of Job is equally true of many sacred texts and conversations. Even though written or spoken in apparently vague generalities, to the initiated the words ring with beautiful tones that resonate in eternal truth.
Nibley said it more clearly: “Myth and reality meet in ritual, a ritual that, while
rehearsing something that is supposed to have happened far away and long ago, is
nonetheless an overt act, an actual historical event in its own right.”232
hesed (covenant love; i.e. the love relationship between parties whose actions express their mutual feelings and are-not merely prescribed by the terms of their contract)
Aubrey Johnson, during his discussion of Psalm 72, observed, “What is more, it is
clear from the outset that the king is both dependent upon and responsible to Yahweh for
the right exercise of his power; for his subjects, whatever their status in society, are one
and all Yahweh’s people.”246
Ultimately, for those who participated in the drama, one recognized one’s Self as an
eternal Truth in sacred time. The creation that was envisioned was a recurring re-creation
of that Self through a series of experiences: first as an intelligence, then a spirit person,
and a mortal human. Its conclusion betokened the projection of one’s shining Self to a
more glorious eternal fulfillment. The drama began, as Paul observes, at the Council with
“God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings
in heavenly places in Christ,” and it will conclude—just as it began—“according as he hath
chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without
blame before him in love” (Ephesians 1:3-4).255
The drama began in the heavenly court, where Elohim presided and Jehovah
conducted the affairs of the Council of the gods. It showed that the king had a prominent
place in that Council. In conjunction with that, it included an account of the creation. The
story of the creation was an indispensable part of the drama because it identified Jehovah
as the Creator God and Lord of the Universe.259 Then followed the events in the Garden of
Eden. It was essential because it established the eternal relationships between Elohim,
Jehovah, the premortal gods, and the mortals who inhabit this world. It was that
relationship that was the divine pivotal truth of the Israelite cosmic myth.
The story—the one told by the ritual and the songs of the ancient Israelite temple drama, as well as in Third Nephi by the prophet Mormon—was about the relationship between the heavens and the inhabitants of the earth.
What Amos was saying is that the Lord will do nothing in this world unless he first calls his human prophets back to the Council in a vision where they renew their covenants
and review conditions of where and how, in human history, they are to fulfil those
covenants. Thus a true prophet knows his own place in the past, present, and future; and
he can speak of them with certitude and authority.
For the people of ancient Israel, a sode experience was a necessary criterion for a
prophet’s legitimacy