With some hesitation I make a belated confession. I am not sure if or what I am to write.
Navigating between belief and knowledge is tricky. Well, at least tricky for me. When considering my testimony of Jesus Christ or of his Gospel, I have attempted not to rely on the newest facts or documents found in my research of early Mormonism. And that choice lies at the core of the paths I navigate.
My belief in the divinity of Christ, his infinite atonement, and the restoration of his Gospel is not rooted in facts. It has been found in a quiet morning on a business trip in Cleveland while reading my “travel” Book of Mormon, or while praying to help my missionary companion from Monticello gain his own testimony, or in the solitude of the Sacred Grove. My testimony travels a path of feelings, fragile at times, but inescapably real. When those feelings wane and fears of uncertainty creep in, I find my way back through pondering the things I believe—centered in the Book of Mormon. I don’t seek knowledge at those moments but the unique tranquility of the Spirit. This path is not littered with pseudo-intellectualism (most often of my own making). My study of history, even Mormon history, does not give me a superior advantage to these feelings or beliefs. My testimony is not of history—even Joseph Smith’s history. My testimony is the feelings of gratitude, unworthiness, faith, and love for a Savior. I believe. I honestly and simply believe.
My study of the life of Joseph Smith has resulted in knowledge. The historical record carefully examined reveals the integrity of the man. I have come to love and respect him as a prophet. Placed in context we find a compelling story—messy at times, but compelling. We find the vibrancy of inspiration coupled with the complexities of living at a time of great opportunity and implicit hardships. Within the early Mormon experience the consequences of ego can be seen in ironic tandem and competition with community building. As I travel on this path of gaining historical knowledge, using the aggregate of facts recounted through faded manuscripts, I develop skills to vet out speculation, exaggeration, and misdirection. While these facts can be interpreted into various narratives, I cling to the primary sources, allowing them to shape the story. This adventure is fascinating. It challenges my intellectual capacities and permits me to delve into nuances hidden by both time and agenda. I find myself on a unique path to tell the truth. Knowledge is indeed power.
Your inquiry for my testimony raises the question as to whether you want me to discuss what I know or what I believe. They are vastly different to me. One is acquired by time and work, while the other is a gift. One is lifted by aspiration or recognition. The other only survives by humility. I work to navigate between the two.
I am a believer and I am a historian.
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Raised in Michigan, Jeffrey N. Walker served in the Canada-Montréal Mission of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Upon his return, he completed a B.S. from Western Michigan University, magna cum laude. He then earned a J.D., cum laude, from the J. Reuben Clark Law School of Brigham Young University, where he served as an editor for the BYU Law Review. He practiced in Los Angeles with one of the largest west coast law firms before joining the Salt Lake City law firm of Jones, Waldo, Holbrook & McDonough. He has worked as general counsel for a regional healthcare company, as a national consultant for Lexis/Nexis, and as a founding partner of the law firm Holman & Walker. He is the president and co-owner of Western Architectural Services, a thematic manufacturing company located in Draper, Utah; and a co-founder of the national watch store chain, Precision Time.
Jeffrey Walker is currently the associate managing editor and the series manager of the Joseph Smith Papers for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, as well as the co-editor for the Papers’ legal and business series. He is also a trustee and treasurer for the Mormon Historic Sites Foundation and the managing editor of the journal Mormon Historical Studies. Currently an adjunct professor in the Department of Church History and Doctrine and in the J. Reuben Clark Law School at Brigham Young University, he teaches courses on Joseph Smith and the law.
He is married to the former Elizabeth Hepburn, and they have four children, three dogs, four cats, and two grandchildren.
Posted March 2011
Like many of you, my identity is shaped by my testimony, my membership in the Church, my family, my friends, my occupation, and my life experiences—both those that are joyful and those that are challenging. I am a sixth generation Latter-day Saint in virtually every one of my family lines. My ancestors came to Utah with the pioneers and the subsequent early waves of immigration. My parents were born and raised in New Harmony and Cedar City, Utah, but I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and raised in the eastern United States in New York, Pennsylvania, and Tennessee. So while I have a typically “Mormon” heritage, I was raised as a member of a religious minority and had wonderful, shaping experiences with people of other faiths and backgrounds.
Lately I have come to understand that spiritual conviction, like the beautiful lotus blossom in Buddhist iconography, is often found sprouting from the mire of everyday life. In my case, the flower of testimony bloomed during my teenage years in the middle of an ugly and difficult family crisis.
When I joined the LDS Church, over thirty-seven years ago, we were living in a small village in North Wales, and I was teaching and carrying out research in chemistry at the University of Wales in Bangor. At that time the local branch of the Church was very small. Very soon after becoming a Church member, I was informed by an evangelical graduate student that our book of scripture known as the “Pearl of Great Price” was merely a poor translation of the “Egyptian Book of Breathings”. Now I had never heard of the latter, and was only scantily aware of the former, and so I was intrigued and somewhat curious. The missionaries looked very nervous and worried when I asked if they could enlighten me on this issue, and the mission president, whom I did not know, lived many miles away. So, turning to an old friend who was teaching at Brigham Young University, I asked him for some help, and he sent me much of Hugh Nibley’s writings concerning the book of Abraham. I devoured the material, and could not wait to discuss the matter with the student, only to find, much to my disappointment, that he knew next to nothing about it and that he was only repeating something he had heard an evangelical friend quote! However, my reading of Brother Nibley’s extensive writings opened my eyes to the fact that there were well-educated and well-respected LDS scholars researching and writing on matters that interested me greatly.
My view of the world and the gospel has been deeply affected by my upbringing. My family traveled constantly during my early years; I attended schools in Taipei, Tehran, and Athens before returning to the U.S. for junior high and high school. The impact of those years is distilled in my memory of a chance meeting I had with a ten-year old Palestinian boy, outside our hotel in East Jerusalem (as it was called in 1963). I don’t remember exchanging a word, but I do remember looking into his eyes and recognizing he had a different existence than I did. Ever since then, I have had to square my existence and my beliefs with the fact that the world is wide and varied; that the happiness and well-being (here and hereafter) of every other person who has, or does, or will live on it means as much to my Heavenly Father as my own.
Books have typically defined both my intellectual and religious life. In my very early teens a relative gave me a book surveying world archaeology, and from that time some tie to antiquity formed in my soul and brain and eventually dictated my selection of graduate studies. That fondness for archaeology and ancient history began to intermingle with my understanding and testimony of the Book of Mormon when I found Thomas S. Ferguson’s One Fold, One Shepherd among my father’s books. From the time I first picked it up, my interests in the gospel and in archaeology had fused. My father never got the book back.
The Reverend John Polkinghorne, a Cambridge professor of physics and a truly world-class scientist, once expressed a dilemma experienced by many scientists who are also persons of faith with the following observation:
Over the years, I have had many opportunities to speak and publish about the Gospel of Jesus Christ and particularly about the Book of Mormon. In a variety of ways, every time I have written or talked about these subjects, I have borne my testimony that this work is good, that it is true, that it is what I want, that it is what I need, and that it is what this world has always needed and what it needs now more than ever. This I know in hundreds of ways, spiritual and intellectual, rationally and faithfully, academically and religiously, deductively and inductively, privately and publically, at home and abroad, in English or German, Greek or Latin, practically and theoretically, alone as well as in my family and community, in times of birth and on occasions of death, through the sacred and the secular, by thought and by deed, in word and in action, with analysis and synthesis, through fasting and feasting, in happiness or tears, with reinforcing ritual repetition as well as arresting original revelations, through study and faith, as a bishop and as a layman, by giving advice and receiving counsel, in salient moments of humility and submissiveness to God imbedded in years of hard work and tedious prospecting in the dusty corners of human life.
My testimony reflects my knowledge that my Heavenly Father knows me, loves me, and blesses me. In my life I have wanted to be in control, perhaps the reaction of being the youngest of six children who had many family members telling me their opinions of how I should live my life. As is often the case, others rarely know what is best for another person but I have learned that my Heavenly Father does.