Health

Health is conventionally understood as the sound condition of the body, untroubled by disease and fit for labor. However, a close reading of the King James Bible reveals a much more profound semantic weight. When the Psalmist petitions that God’s way “may be known upon earth, thy saving health among all nations” (Psalm 67:2), and reverences the Lord “who is the health of my countenance” (Psalm 42:11), the underlying Hebrew is yeshuʿah⁠—a term inextricably linked to salvation. The 1611 translators, drawing upon an Old English heritage where hælþ denoted comprehensive wholeness (sharing linguistic roots with “hale,” “whole,” and “holy”), fittingly captured a dual promise: bodies made sound and peoples secured in divine safety.

Further examination of the scriptural lexicon underscores this expansive view. The Hebrew marpe, derived from the root rapha’ (to heal), can signify a physical remedy but equally describes a tranquil, composed mind. ʾArukah, translated as “health” in the prophetic writings of Isaiah and Jeremiah, vividly signifies the fresh flesh that grows over a wound⁠—a process of restorative creation. In the Greek New Testament, hygiainō (the root of our modern word hygiene) denotes soundness, which the Apostle Paul significantly applies to true doctrine in his pastoral epistles to Timothy and Titus. Whereas contemporary vernacular and the modern wellness industry often commodify health as the private property of an autonomous individual, the scriptural paradigm insists on radiating this wholeness outward⁠—from the physical center, to the intellect, to the integrity of doctrine, and ultimately to all nations.

Health to Thy Navel

The book of Proverbs positions this holistic health as the direct consequence of yielding to divine instruction: “Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the Lord, and depart from evil. It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones” (Proverbs 3:7-8). The Hebrew term utilized here for health, rifʾut (also rooted in rapha’), is unique within the corpus of the Hebrew Bible. The imagery of the “navel” (shor, properly the umbilical cord, as seen in Ezekiel’s evocative metaphor of the abandoned infant) and the “marrow” (shiqquy, denoting drink or deep refreshment) is remarkably precise. While some commentators interpret the navel as a mere synecdoche for the body, the ancient sage is deliberately depicting the fear of the Lord as a life-sustaining cord at our very center, and as divine moisture penetrating the innermost structures of our being. Authentic health, in this ancient view, originates in our connection to God before it is made manifest in the flesh.

When the Word of Wisdom was revealed to the Prophet Joseph Smith at Kirtland in February 1833, it explicitly re-engaged this ancient covenantal language. Those who observe its precepts “shall receive health in their navel and marrow to their bones; And shall find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge, even hidden treasures; And shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint” (D&C 89:18-20). The Latter-day Saint scriptural footnotes appropriately guide the student back not only to Proverbs but also to Daniel and Isaiah⁠—the latter supplying the culminating promise to those who wait upon the Lord. Viewed through this lens, the revelation acts as a grand synthesis of scriptural threads, establishing a reciprocal relationship where wisdom generates physical health, and physical health, in turn, prepares the tabernacle to receive deeper wisdom. Furthermore, it measures this vitality by functional capacity: the endurance to run and walk without fainting in the service of the Lord.

Pulse and Water

This interplay between the physical and the spiritual is vividly illustrated in the narrative of Daniel and his companions at the Babylonian court. Assigned a daily regimen of the king’s meat and wine, they proposed an alternative to their steward: “Prove thy servants, I beseech thee, ten days; and let them give us pulse to eat, and water to drink.” Following this period, “their countenances appeared fairer and fatter in flesh than all the children which did eat the portion of the king’s meat,” and subsequently, “God gave them knowledge and skill in all learning and wisdom” (Daniel 1:12, 15, 17). Consistent with the later promises of the Word of Wisdom, the blessing transitions seamlessly from bodily vitality to intellectual and spiritual endowment. While historians of medicine frequently point to this narrative as an early example of a comparative dietary trial, we must recognize that its primary context was covenantal fidelity in a foreign land.

In our era, Daniel’s empirical proving finds a secular counterpart in the “Quantified Self” movement, articulated by Gary Wolf and Kevin Kelly in 2007. Modern wearable sensors and continuous glucose monitors allow individuals to meticulously calibrate their diet, sleep, and exertion against objective data, while the horizon of precision medicine promises interventions tailored to unique biological signatures. Yet, as sociologist Robert Crawford cautioned in 1980, the ideology of “healthism”⁠—which elevates physical optimization to an overriding value⁠—tends to reduce the pursuit of well-being to an isolated, self-absorbed enterprise. In a similar vein, Kate Holbrook has astutely noted that an unbalanced fixation with health can lead some Latter-day Saints to improperly expand or contract the Word of Wisdom based on private calculations of a substance’s physiological effects rather than prophetic counsel. Daniel’s ancient test, by stark contrast, was not an exercise in biological optimization for its own sake; it was a communal keeping of a covenant, the ultimate fruit of which was divine wisdom.

Conspiring Men and the Weakest Saints

It is deeply instructive that the 1833 revelation was presented “not by commandment or constraint,” but to manifest “the order and will of God in the temporal salvation of all saints,” specifically adapted “to the capacity of the weak and the weakest of all saints.” Crucially, it was given “in consequence of evils and designs which do and will exist in the hearts of conspiring men in the last days” (D&C 89:2-4). The deliberate phrase “temporal salvation” powerfully reunites the concepts of deliverance and health found in the Psalms. The subsequent history of tobacco⁠—the very substance whose use in early Church councils precipitated the revelation⁠—provides a sobering referent for the Lord’s warning. Decades later, internal industry memoranda candidly declared that doubt was their product, and federal courts ultimately documented a multi-decade campaign of deception by major cigarette manufacturers.

As we confront contemporary technological frontiers, such as the transhumanist aspiration for radical life extension, we must evaluate these developments against the Lord’s standard of caring for the weakest saint. A 2024 Mayo Clinic analysis of World Health Organization data highlighted a profound global disparity, revealing that individuals spend an average of 9.6 years in sickness or disability (rising to 12.4 years in the United States). The scriptural promise to “run and not be weary” speaks directly to this tragic gap between mere lifespan and actual healthspan. As Chris Bradford has articulated in the context of the Mormon Transhumanist Association, the righteous aim of life extension should be to enable individuals to live healthy lives well past a century, with a strict focus on equitable distribution. This stands in stark contrast to the approach of figures like entrepreneur Bryan Johnson, whose expenditure of millions annually to arrest his own biological aging exemplifies longevity medicine as an exclusive, private luxury.

A scripturally grounded conception of health places specific moral demands upon those who develop and deploy new technologies. We must ask makers of biometric wearables to facilitate Daniel’s honest proving without reducing the sacred human body to a mere ledger of optimization. We must urge longevity researchers to measure success not merely in added years, but in years wherein individuals possess the vitality to run and not be weary, ensuring such blessings are accessible to the impoverished. Finally, Latter-day Saints are called to observe a revealed health code adapted to the weakest among us, resisting the temptation to transform our neighbors’ dietary choices into a metric of righteousness. As articulated in the Mormon Transhumanist Affirmation, our pledge to utilize science and technology according to wisdom and inspiration aligns with the profound wish expressed by John to Gaius: “that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth” (3 John 1:2).

See also: Body, Disease, Free, Heal, Immortality, Longevity, Old Age, Senescence, Sickness, Suffering