Spencer W. Kimball spent innumerable hours working on a biography of his father, Andrew, but was unable to finish it. This book, completed by Spencer’s son and biographer, Edward L. Kimball, brings that desire to fulfillment. Father of a Prophet is the link between Andrew’s apostle father (Heber C. Kimball) and his prophet son (Spencer W. Kimball), and it provides an important prologue to the biographies Spencer W. Kimball (1977), and Lengthen Your Stride: The Presidency of Spencer W. Kimball (2005). Andrew presided for twelve years over the Indian Territory Mission, and he worked for years as a salesman in Utah and Idaho traveling from village to village. Then, in 1898, Church leaders called Andrew to move with his family to Arizona and preside over the St. Joseph Stake, covering southeastern Arizona and extending to El Paso, Texas, including the Mor­mon settlements in the Gila River Valley. Andrew invested himself deeply in his adopted community. He served a term in the Arizona legislature and exerted statewide influence as chair of the agricultural and horticultural commission. Whenever a vacancy occurred in the Quorum of the Twelve, Andrew’s name received speculative mention. His twenty-five years in stake administration illuminate the Church’s maturation from pioneer times to a period of inter­national growth, and his exemplary loyalty and personal high principles were passed on to his son Spencer, especially as father and son served together in the stake presidency.

Most scholarly attention to the First Vision is dedicated to determining whether it happened or whether whatever happened is reliably described in the few primary accounts we have of it. My interests lie in a different direction. I am interested in the First Vision accounts insofar as they tell us something about religion, not about history, and not least because my wager is that this story, as a story, exceeds the limits of history, especially when it becomes understood as scripture. Which is to say, I want to better understand the work done by this story among the members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. For this analysis of Smith’s representation of his quest and its positive resolution, I will rely chiefly on the 1832 and 1838 manuscripts as the most intentional of the four accounts. They not only share a historiographical purpose but also are related in their production, the 1838 manuscript having used the 1832 account as a base for its narrative structure and descriptive detail of events. In contrast, the intervening 1835 account is a report of a conversation with a sole interlocutor observed by a notetaking third party. It less useful as a primary source for Smith’s understanding of the larger significance of his initial spiritual experience. The 1842 Wentworth letter is as intentional as the other church histories but relies on secondary accounts for much of its content. Finally, because of its canonical status, the 1838 manuscript is not merely authoritative but generative of the faithful reader’s religious convictions. Therefore, it is uniquely relevant to this analysis of the First Vision’s meaning and function among the Saints.

No one knew…that Jack was beginning what would be a quarter-century tenure in his new role, but he had already set the course for it. He had seen no reason to revolutionize what BYU Studies was—a quarterly journal committed to showcasing the complementary nature of revealed and discovered truth, welcoming contributions from all fields of learning written for educated nonspecialists. He was determined, however, to “expand the variety of its articles and the size of its reading audience,” based on the belief that “BYU Studies can and should offer the world the best scholarly perspectives on topics of academic interest to Latter-day Saints. I don’t expect my tenure to last nearly as long as Jack’s. To paraphrase Lloyd Bentsen: you know Jack and I’m not him. Like Jack, however, I want BYU Studies Quarterly to remain committed to showcasing the complementary nature of revealed and discovered truth. I welcome contributions from all fields of learning written for educated nonspecialists. I will expand the variety of articles based on the belief Jack instilled in me: BYU Studies owes readers the best perspectives on topics of academic interest to Latter-day Saints.

Reprinted in Studies of the Books of Moses and Abraham, articles from BYU Studies. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book.
Some thoughts on a fragment of parchment kept in the Church Historian’s Office.

“Education is more than preparing for life,” George H. Brimhall once said. “It is life.” His love for education was first instilled in him by his mother. Education became his constant passion, sustaining him through humble beginnings as a Utah pioneer to his pivotal role as president of Brigham Young University. For him, the motivating force ­behind education was the Latter-day Saint doctrine of eternal progress. As a teacher at BYU and then its president (1904–1921), Brimhall was known as a dynamic orator and as a compassionate administrator whose primary desire was to help students succeed. Brimhall’s faith in and devotion to his religion coincided with his love for learning, and he believed it was BYU’s unique mission to become a university where spiritual education and secular education supported each other. During times of conflict, disappointment, personal tragedy, and great economic uncertainty, Brimhall steadfastly steered the school through the growing pains of its early years toward its unique mission.