He possessed a noble boldness and independence of character…his language abounding in original eloquence peculiar to himself – not polished – not studied – not smoothed by education and refined by art; but flowing forth in its own native simplicity, and profusely abounding in variety of subject and manner.

Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt, eds. Scot Facer Proctor, Maurine Jensen Proctor (Salt Lake City, UT: Deseret Book, 2000), 40.

I was afraid you’d ask me to clarify there…and I’m not sure how well I can do, but I’ll make an attempt, though it will stray from the post.

“Spiritual creation” is a concept that both fascinates and stymies me – one that, as I understand it, is relatively unique to LDS theology (although I confess a weak grasp of comparative theology and correction would be welcome). It has not been authoritatively outlined (see here for another commentary) beyond the understanding that in the divine order of creation, spiritual acts precede and correspond in some way to physical ones (Moses 3:5,7; D&C 29). Beyond this there much speculation, though temple instruction and occasional comments from general authorities seem to throw some light on the matter. For instance, Elder Bednar recently said that:

We learn from these verses that the spiritual creation preceded the temporal creation. In a similar way, meaningful morning prayer is an important element in the spiritual creation of each day—and precedes the temporal creation or the actual execution of the day. Just as the temporal creation was linked to and a continuation of the spiritual creation, so meaningful morning and evening prayers are linked to and are a continuation of each other. ["Pray Always," Ensign (Nov 2008).]

One question about this concept is whether spiritual creation refers to a constructive mental activity or some kind of spiritual act (apparently upon spiritual matter). Another interesting, related issue is the potential connectedness of these two possibilities.

My own speculation about spiritual creation is that it involves a combination and synthesis of intellectual activity/planning and spiritual activity (which to me remains obscure). One of the values of some of the activities with language we’ve been discussing is the way they can contribute to an intellectual mapping of the religious/spiritual realm…and thus perhaps be part of our own spiritually creative enterprises.

As for other terms and language that could be explored I think the examples are legion: “first principles and ordinances,” “Gospel,” “Lord,” and “worship” come quickly to mind, along with a host of others that are particular to LDS belief. Nothing inherently wrong with these terms or their use, of course. I suppose I simply mean to call for recognition in general that worn typologies and expressions can and often do constrain our spiritual vision and blunt our spiritual appetites.

And yes, Neal A. Maxwell is an interesting touchpoint in this discussion. Though his rhetoric sometimes struck me as a little overwrought, he understood how connotations of a word could be invoked in new contexts, illuminating new concepts and ideas. I think you’re right that, like Joseph, he seems to have shared a especially deep appreciation for “words of wisdom.”

As for how poetic habits might be developed, I have a couple modest suggestions…most of them probably no news for a scholarly audience. The first is a refusal to let words go uninterrogated. It’s amazing to recognize, sometimes, how words spoken and used without comprehension or curiosity; they’re treated as closed symbols when this is far from true. “Ordinance” is a good example. I’m surprised at how few people puzzle over what this term is or means. As someone raised in the Church, I’m still occasionally finding language that I haven’t looked hard at and having it surprise me.

Perhaps one other is simply trying to articulate one’s self independently, writing/speaking/thinking – as all the composition instructors say – in one’s own words (in your language, Elizabeth, living on one’s own terms). Doing so is a process of translation where we shift concepts from institutional or other foreign “dialects” into familiar language and perhaps back again. Ultimately I think a habit develops from this: we separate ideas from language, or at least learn that the connection between them can be made to serve the ends of our own understanding.