The 1832 account of the First Vision has always been treated as the black sheep of the family when it comes to contemporary accounts of that event. It is the most unique out of the accounts in several ways. Kyle Beshears recently published a chapter, giving an important explanation of some of those differences. He also spoke about these ideas in a recent interview at the Latter-day Saint history blog From the Desk. What follows here is a copost to that interview.
In the interview, Kyle Beshears offered an overview of what makes the 1832 account unique:
The 1832 account is Joseph Smith’s earliest written record of the First Vision and the only one written by his own hand. These facts alone make it unique among the others, which emphasize restoration and Joseph’s role in it. The 1832 account, however, is more personal. Joseph’s spiritual distress is more palpable—his conviction of sin, his desire for forgiveness, and his direct encounter with Christ.
He added, however, that there is a unique feature that is often overlooked:
What sets this account apart is not its ‘strangeness’ of details or presentation.
Rather, the 1832 account’s biblical intertextuality makes it unique from the others. Nearly every sentence echoes scripture, from the “pillar of light/fire”—a blend of Exodus and Paul’s conversion—to God calling Joseph by name, like he did with Moses, Samuel, and Paul. This suggests Joseph framed his vision within biblical patterns, making it resonate with Bible-literate readers.
And although it was never published in his lifetime, the 1832 account reveals how Joseph originally understood his vision as both a moment of redemption and the beginning of his divine calling.
Like many of Smith’s early revelations, the 1832 account is shared in language that is a bricolage of Biblical text.
Beshears shared some of the examples from the text:
The 1832 account is jam-packed with biblical phrases, allusions, and echoes. Virtually every sentence contains language drawn from the Bible, ranging from direct citations to more subtle references, like echoes.
Joseph used things like biblical vocabulary, structure, and themes to describe his experience, penning a narrative that aligns his vision with scriptural patterns of how God called prophets and apostles. This intertextuality suggests that the Bible wasn’t merely a common touchstone but actually the framework through which Joseph articulated his experience.
For example:
- “I am the Lord of glory. This phrase very closely resembles 1 Corinthians 2:8, in which the Apostle Paul describes Christ as “the Lord of glory.” The phrase is surprisingly rare in the Bible, and specifically refers to Jesus.
- “In the glory of my Father.” This phrase appears toward the end of the vision. While it isn’t a direct quote, it strongly echoes Matthew 16:27: “For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father.”
- “None doeth good, no, not one.” This is a direct citation of Romans 3:12, which is itself a quote from Psalms 14:1–3 and 53:1–3. This is among the clearest biblical references in the 1832 account.
These examples (and over thirty others) show how Joseph Smith wove together biblical material—sometimes subtly, other times explicitly—to form and frame his visionary experience in a language that Bible-literate Protestants would recognize and respect.
These insights allow Beshears to make an argument for a point that other scholars have missed. In my own analysis of the First Vision, for example, I pointed out that in the early accounts, “Notably absent from the Lord’s words are indications of a prophetic call. It is only in the later accounts of the First Vision—which were written when Joseph Smith was approaching the height of his prophetic career—that Joseph even mentioned hints of his future role as a prophet.” Through use of Biblical language and allusions, however, Beshears argues that Joseph Smith did, in fact, state that the First Vision was the beginning of his calling:
The phrase “he spake unto me saying Joseph” follows a biblical pattern where God calls individuals by name, often prior to calling them to become a prophet or apostle. For example, God said “Moses, Moses” (see Exodus 3:4), “Samuel, Samuel” (see 1 Samuel 3:4, 10) and “Saul, Saul” (see Acts 9:4).
This pattern isn’t simply a stylistic feature of biblical authors. I think it serves a theological function. In each of these instances, the repeated name signals a sort of divine urgency and summons. It marks an important moment of transition, marking the person’s pivot from their former life into a divinely appointed role. …
I am very convinced that the 1832 account of the First Vision is written so that Joseph is clearly receiving a prophetic calling, which runs contrary to the opinion of other researchers. …
True, the later (and more canonical) accounts more explicitly frame the First Vision as a church-restoring commission. However, this earliest version still follows a recognizable pattern of divine calling, especially for people who could ‘pick up’ what Joseph was ‘putting down.’
So, whether Joseph understood it that way at the time or not, the way he structured his account suggests that something beyond a personal conversion moment was taking place.
This was a fascinating insight for me.
Altogether, Kyle Beshears’s analysis has given me a renewed appreciation for the 1832 account of the First Vision. As he put it himself,
The 1832 account is commonly dismissed as an unpolished, simple version of the First Vision. It’s framed as an early, somewhat naive attempt that lacks the clarity and structure of later retellings. But I think this view really underestimates the 1832 account’s literary sophistication and theological depth.
Far from being some kind of ‘rough draft,’ the 1832 account of the First Vision is a carefully composed narrative that speaks in the language of the Bible, skillfully weaving together biblical themes, literary structure, and theological context.
It’s far more complex and intricate than it has been given credit for being in the past.
For more on the 1832 account of the First Vision, head on over to the Latter-day Saint history blog From the Desk to read the full interview with Kyle Beshears.
Comments
14 responses to “A New Look at the 1832 Account of the First Vision”
The 1832 account weaves together many extra-biblical elements as well (Lead, Plato, Travels of Cyrus).
I think one of the mistakes people make with the 1832 account is treating it as an immediate, “authentic” account by an inexperienced prophet, when it was actually recorded 12 years after the events it describes and several years into Joseph Smith’s prophetic activity. I don’t mean to diminish its value, but it’s constructed just as much as the later accounts are (as it seems like Beshears makes clear).
Right, but earlier constructions are deemed of higher historical value, as they should be.
Maybe? I just don’t know if the difference between 12 and 18 years after the fact is all that meaningful. My memories of 2007 and 2013 both feel about equally distant.
If you wrote something down about an event in 2007 six years ago, and then wrote about the even again six years later, your earlier account of the event would be of greater historical value. That’s just how historical methodology works.
Just my two cents, but I teach introductory composition to community college freshmen; these are kids who are often from uneducated, precarious, low-income backgrounds, much like the Smith family of old—save that, unlike the Smiths, these students have at least had the benefit of twelve years of formal schooling. Yet when I assign them a personal reflection essay on some key moment of their life as a confidence builder, they all make the same mistakes Smith did in the 1832 version: grammar errors, too short, leaving out significant details, etc. This isn’t because either Smith or my students are stupid, but simply inexperienced.
Smith’s unpublished 1832 account reads like a rough draft before in-class peer-review, because that’s exactly what it is. Maybe in historical studies the earlier draft takes precedence, but in English and writing instruction, it’s always the later, polished draft that is granted preeminence. Just my two cents.
“Smith’s unpublished 1832 account reads like a rough draft before in-class peer-review, because that’s exactly what it is.”
That’s not what it is. It’s written 6 YEARS before! No composition course works like that.
It’s has important differences with the 1838 account, and in historical methodology, the earlier the account, the greater value it has historically.
In historical studies, like many fields, the “rules” are more like general guidelines.
Generally, earlier accounts are preferrable and given greater deference. But it is not an iron-clad rule, and there are plenty of times historians have found greater value in late(r) accounts. Arguing solely for the primacy of early accounts over any and all other considerations is bad historical practice.
“Arguing solely for the primacy of early accounts over any and all other considerations is bad historical practice.” True, but the other considerations need to be other historical evidence and not simply treating a document as absolutely historical because a religion has canonized it.
So the question would be, on points where the ’32 and ’38 accounts differ, what historical evidence do we have that ’38 is more accurate? If there isn’t any, the “guideline” is to privilege the earlier account.
My sense is that in the church we treat the ’38 account as the “real” account and all others, even if they are earlier, as derivations of the “real” ’38 account. When there are differences, we in the church tend to view the ’38 account as containing “what really happened” and the ’32 account as mistaken. To do so is a problematic historical assumption.
The lengths that some go to – in an attempt to reconcile the differing First Vision accounts – really is remarkable; and incredibly exhausting. But, when one steps back and realizes that this was nothing more than a “fever dream”; which can be interpreted any way one likes.
All in all – the ongoing debate is silly and ultimately worthless.
But not worthless enough to skip out on participating in them yourself, eh LHL?
Chad Nielson:
Hey, good buddy: when you are so inclined, why don’t you hop online here and tell me why an all powerful, all knowing, all wise Heavenly Father would feel inclined to obsfugate his messaging to his prophet and his people; from one moment in time to another.
LHL, while I agree there are important differences between the 1832 and 1838 accounts, I also very much believe that humans understanding God is generally an unclear process. As Paul said, “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” (1 Cor 13:12). There’s lots we don’t know in this life and we hope to know more when we die (I hope so too).
Such a sentiment is at odds with how we usually talk about things in the church and the First Vision account I think is a good illustration of the dichotomy. We like the 1838 account as clear and absolute, but I really do think other accounts, especially 1832, calls some of the clarity into question. And for me, that lack of clarity IS the reality of the human interaction with God.
Paul’s statement is very much in line with Plato’s philosophy. On earth we only have glimpses of the fuller truth that exists in heaven. As Plato say in his Timaeus, “Now to find the maker and father of the universe is hard enough, and even if I succeeded, to declare him to everyone is impossible” (28c).
I know such a statement doesn’t sound very “Mormon,” but that’s been my own experience.
LHL, when throwing down a gauntlet at someone, it does help to get their name right, but I think Stephen hit on the main idea that I would share. Humans have limited capacity, so it isn’t so much that God is trying to obsfugate His messaging so much as it is that we get that messaging through human filters.