The Lost 116 Pages book explores Mormonism's great mystery

Review by Doug Gibson

Mormonism is a young religious movement. Perhaps our most prominent mystery is what's in the missing 116 pages of The Book of Mormon. The story, told so often: Transcriber Martin Harris pesters Joseph Smith to let him take a stack of translated pages to assuage his skeptical wife, Lucy. Once he has the pages, Harris loses them. The Lord rebukes Smith and Harris, and because of that, we have a shorter Book of Mormon.

The lost 116 pages is a sort of Holy Grail-mystery for many of the LDS faithful. What's in it, we wonder. Don Bradley, a prominent Latter-day Saint historian, has tackled the task of interpreting the timeline and what may indeed be in those lost pages. "The Lost 116 Pages: Reconstructing the Book of Mormon's Missing Stories," Greg Kofford Books, Salt Lake City, 2019, is not an easy read. It's a scholarly work, and moves at a slow, deliberate, very detailed pace. It can be a slog at times, but it is ultimately rewarding.

I don't want this to be too much of a spoiler review, revealing to readers what is undoubtedly the most important part for many: what's in those lost pages, according to Bradley. A few tidbits of what is offered: The author's research leads him to opine that the Lost Pages are a narrative-heavy version of the time of Lehi and family in Jerusalem through the early chapters of Mosiah.

Bradley believes that the annual Passover observance coincides with the exodus from Jerusalem and the eventual possession by Nephi of the Brass Plates. Also, he believes that Lehi's followers constructed a movable temple during their journey. Readers may guess correctly that short accounts in the Book of Mormon, after the Book of Jacob, are opined to possess more detail in the Lost Pages. Topics include internal apostasy and more detail on a character named Aminadi, described as a forefather of Amulek, a missionary. In the Book of Mormon, Aminadi, an ancestor of Ishmael, is noted for interpreting writing on the wall of the temple, penned by the finger of God.

A LARGER 116 PAGES?

According to Bradley, the portion of the first 116 pages lost by Harris was much larger than what we would conceive as 116 pages today. The type of paper that was used to transcribe was roughly 13 by 17 inches. Also, through research of the various transcribers used by Smith and estimates of time spent and what could be accomplished, Bradley posits the possibility that the "116 pages" are at least 200 pages, and possibly as many as 300. The author devotes a section on potential thieves of the manuscript. He assigns a low possibility of guilt to Harris' wife, Lucy, who has often been blamed for the theft in Mormon lore.

Bradley's research is impressive. The book is heavy with footnotes, some dominating pages. Sources include Lucy Mack Smith's recollections, as well as a critical edition of same edited by historian Lavina Fielding Anderson. There arevarious 19th century published accounts of the translation from persons close to those involved. Also, the author draws parallels to events depicted or hinted at in the Book of Mormon to similar events or religious rituals depicted in The Bible.

A final note: I have noticed in conversations with friends about this book a distinction in reception. Some members seem interested, and even excited. Other members seem more reserved, even skeptical of the attempt. Granted I have only a few to several subjects, but I wonder if some members feel that the lost 116 pages should remain a great mystery, and not the subject of scholarly speculation. Is it a cultural issue?

As for me, I think it's a great, fascinating read. You can buy it from the publisher here, or via Amazon here.

Martin Harris: gullible, amiable, dedicated, prone to bumbling

I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Martin Harris, one of two of the Three Witnesses to the Book of Mormon to die a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. To my knowledge, no esteemed biography of Harris has been written, although H. Michael Marquardt has written a strong article of his years in Kirtland 1830-1870 in the Fall 2002 issue of Dialogue. (read) Harris is an important man in Mormon history. Without his farm being mortgaged, publication of The Book of Mormon would have been delayed. But Harris, born in 1783, was also a gullible soul, an amiable, man prone to hyperbole and bumbling, a sort of “Chief Wiggum” of Mormon history; a man who would walk the straight and narrow like a drunk trying to maneuver a policeman’s chalk line.

However, let there be no dispute that Martin Harris believed in The Book of Mormon. Like the other witnesses, he never recanted his testimony. The one-time wealthy farmer remained prosperous until he mortgaged his farm and provided other funds to raise $5,000, a small fortune, to publish the Book of Mormon. To give one an idea of how much $5,000 was in 1831, one can note that $5,000 in 1913 is worth $114,000 today. Not surprisingly, Harris’ wife, Lucy, was opposed to her husband paying the tab for the restored scripture. Mormon lore has it that Harris, the original transcriber, begged Smith for the first 116 pages of translated material, brought it home, and promptly lost it. In my youth, I was always told the “shrewish” Mrs. Harris was to blame. One Sunday school teacher told me she took the pages and burned them in the fireplace? (In the recent “Joseph Smith: Plates of Gold” film, a more mystical, divine explanation was offered — the missing pages disappeared from a locked drawer.) In any event, Harris has always played the bumbling, foolish, dimwitted “heavy” who deprived the world of “The Book of Lehi.”

To add insult to injury, the Book of Mormon received negative reviews and poor sales, and Harris lost his farm, and later his wife.

Harris remained committed to Mormonism, though, and became an early LDS traveling elder. However, like other witnesses Oliver Cowdery and David Whitmer, he later apostasized from the original LDS Church, the reason was the failure of a church-sponsored financial institution in 1837 Kirtland. That was a stressful time for the young church, as many members lost both their savings and faith as a result of the ill-advised financial venture. However, Harris remained on the pheriphery of the LDS Church — after Lucy’s death in 1836, he had married 22-year-old Caroline Young, a niece of Brigham Young, and had seven children with her.

In 1840, Harris was back in the LDS Church and lived in Nauvoo. When Joseph Smith was martyred in 1844, Harris did not accompany Brigham Young and other members to the Rocky Mountains. By now an old man, he became a Mormonism offshoot-hopper, aligning himself with James J. Strang, David Whitmer, Gladden Bishop, William Smith, and even the Shakers. In one, humiliating instance, Harris, financed by Strang to preach in England shortly after Smith’s murder, was shunned and ridiculed by Mormon leaders. According to Marquardt’s Dialogue piece, an LDS newspaper of that era warned against Harris, saying “his own unbridled tongue will soon show out specimens of folly enough to give any person a true index of the character of the man.”

As he became more erratic, Harris’ slowly descended into poverty and obscurity. In the mid 1850s, his wife Caroline left him and — with their children — went to Utah. Harris became a self-appointed caretaker of the deserted LDS temple in Kirtland, Ohio, and described himself as a Mormon preacher.

For the Harris family, and the LDS Church, the saga of Martin Harris had a happy ending. As 1870 approached, sympathetic Mormon missionaries, feeling compassion for the 87-year-old Harris, raised money for him to join his family in Utah. In an 1881 issue of The Latter Day Saints’ Millennial Star, taken from earlier Deseret News reports, there is an account of Harris’ return to “Zion.” Not surprisingly, it recounts perhaps the last encounter with the supernatural Martin Harris experienced. I quote from the article: “A very singular incident occurred at this time. While Martin was visiting his friends, bidding them farewell, his pathway crossed a large pasture, in which he became bewildered, dizzy, faint and staggering through the blackberry vines that are so abundant in that vicinity, his clothes torn, bloody and faint, he lay down under a tree to die. After a time, he revived, called on the Lord, and finally at twelve midnight, found his friend, and in his fearful condition was cared for and soon regained his strength. He related this incident as a snare of the adversary to hinder him from going to Salt Lake City.”

Harris was rebaptized upon his arrival in Utah. He eventually moved to Clarkston and lived, by all accounts, happily until his death there at age 92 in 1875. To this day, Clarkston hosts The Martin Harris Pageant, a play based on his life that attracts thousands to the small community.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs