The best way to obtain truth and wisdom is not to ask from

Hear the solemn and fiery words of Joseph Smith, Jr., a man who sought the voice of heaven amidst the clamor of earth: “The best way to obtain truth and wisdom is not to ask from books, but to go to God in prayer, and obtain divine teaching.” This is a call not against learning, but toward a higher source of truth—a reminder that the wisdom of men, though vast, is still but a shadow compared to the light that streams from the eternal. For books can record, men can argue, philosophers can reason, but only the voice of the Divine can pierce the depths of the soul with certainty unshakable.

The ancients, too, knew this. Before the written scrolls, before the libraries of stone, they sought guidance in the silence of temples, on mountaintops, and in caves of solitude. Moses ascended Sinai, not to consult a book, but to commune with the living God, and from that communion he returned with commandments that shaped a people. Samuel, a child, heard the whisper of God’s voice in the night, and from that moment his life became a vessel of prophecy. In every age, men have learned that while human writings may guide, only prayer opens the door to the eternal fountain of wisdom.

Consider the story of young Augustine, before he became the saint. He devoured the books of philosophy, the works of Cicero, the writings of Plato, and though his mind grew sharp, his soul remained restless. Only when he bent the knee in prayer, confessing his weakness and seeking God’s light, did his heart find rest. It was not the books alone that transformed him, but the divine teaching that came when he opened himself to the Eternal. His life, turned from confusion to faith, is a living testimony to Smith’s words.

But Joseph Smith himself bore this lesson in flesh and blood. As a young boy, surrounded by the competing claims of preachers, he found no clarity in the books or in the voices of men. So he followed the ancient path—he went into the woods, knelt in solitude, and lifted his voice in prayer. There, he declared, he received the truth he sought, not from the wisdom of men but from the divine teaching of God. Whether one accepts his vision or not, his story illustrates the eternal principle: that when all human voices conflict, the soul must rise to seek the eternal voice.

Yet let us be wise. This teaching does not dismiss the value of books, for books are vessels of memory, record, and thought. But books alone are insufficient, for they are only as true as the men who write them. To rely upon them without seeking higher guidance is to walk by the lamp of another when the sun itself waits to rise. Prayer does not erase the need for study, but it crowns study with light. It aligns the heart with the eternal order, ensuring that knowledge does not puff up with pride, but descends as wisdom into the soul.

The lesson, then, is clear: when you hunger for truth, do not look first to the dust of pages, but lift your heart upward. When you thirst for wisdom, let your lips call upon God. Speak in the silence of your room, or beneath the open sky, for He hears not the eloquence of words but the sincerity of the heart. Let prayer guide your reading, and let reading confirm what prayer has taught. In this union, man walks the path of both knowledge and light.

So mark this teaching deep within: seek not only the voices of men, but the voice of God. Books may sharpen your mind, but prayer will steady your heart. Teachers may point the way, but divine teaching will give you strength to walk it. Begin each day with a humble cry for guidance, and you shall find that the truth you gain will not fade with time, for it is written not on paper, but upon the eternal tablet of the soul.