Thursday, May 14, 2026

Jaredite barges

 

I mean, come on! An ancient submarine? Sealed top and bottom? A stoppable air-hole? Sixteen glowing stones touched by the finger of God on a mountaintop to see in the dark? How did Joseph Smith think he'd get away with this crazy story? Turns out, every detail he described has been uncovered in MULTIPLE ancient texts which were UNKNOWN in 1829! Enter, the Jaredites!



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJ_isi0n_Vg

Imagine a vessel swallowed completely by violent ocean waves—sealed tight, no sails, no windows, and only glowing stones for light. This counter-intuitive blueprint appears in the Book of Mormon, published in upstate New York in 1830. For decades, scholars assumed the Babylonian Nineveh texts represented the original ancient flood narrative. But archaeological excavations at Nippur in the early 20th century unearthed Sumerian tablets predating these by 15 centuries, revealing the "Magur boat." This archaic vessel's schematic aligns with 13 textual specifications from the Book of Ether, including peaked ends, a completely covered hull, and a unique "breather" mechanism for air. Further, the concept of luminous stones for internal illumination replicates an obscure Near Eastern tradition found in the Palestinian Talmud, a text completely untranslated into modern languages in 1830. How could Joseph Smith in 1829 have known these specific details that naval architects and scholars only reconstructed from ancient tablets and untranslated texts decades later?


Transcript:

Picture a vessel swallowed completely by violent ocean waves. It is sealed tight. It has no sails, no windows, and no traditional deck. Inside this claustrophobic capsule, the only light comes from glowing stones.

To any shipwright working on the Atlantic coast in the 19th century, this design is a physical absurdity. It violates every established principle of European naval architecture. Yet this exact engineering schematic appears in the Book of Mormon, published in upstate New York in 1830.

If the author didn't pull this counterintuitive blueprint from contemporary shipping manuals, we have to ask where such a highly specific, bizarre structure actually originated.

If we set aside 19th century naval logic and compare these descriptions with archaic blueprints, a different structural lineage begins to emerge.

We can deconstruct this claim by examining three distinct vectors—the ancient vessel's architecture, the luminous stones providing its light, and the sacred cargo it carried. Treating the Jaredite barge as a literal engineering document forces a reevaluation of the text's potential ancient provenance.

For decades, scholars assumed the Babylonian Nineveh texts represented the original ancient flood narrative. But archaeological excavations at Nippur unearthed Sumerian tablets that predated the Nineveh texts by 15 centuries. These older Nippur texts describe an archaic vessel that looks nothing like the massive, box-like arc of European tradition. They describe the Magur boat.

This schematic aligns the 13 textual specifications of the Sumerian Magur boat, alongside the phrasing found in Ether chapters 2 and 6. Both describe a vessel with peaked ends, completely covered, driven without sails, and built to transport heavy freight.

Both the Sumerian text and the Book of Ether explicitly require submersibility to survive being buried in the depths. Operating a sealed, submersible craft introduces an immediate mechanical challenge—maintaining a breathable air supply. The Babylonian texts use a specific linguistic term for the air mechanism on the Magur boat, the nappashu.

While later European translations often rendered this word as window, its literal definition is a breather or ventilator.

This maps to the mechanical restriction in Ether, where a hole is unstopped for air, but sealed tightly against the water. The structural layout and the ventilation mechanics of the Jaredite barge reflect a specific naval tradition—details that were lost to the 19th century public.

The most historically criticized feature of the Jaredite vessels is their light source. The brother of Jared extracts clear stones from rock, melting them down to be touched by the finger of God for internal illumination. This shining stone concept appears frequently in ancient Near Eastern traditions, linking divine light directly to deep-water passage.

This map traces the geographic distribution of the shining stone motif. In classical and Indian traditions, the pyrophilis and jelicanta stones are crystals produced by extreme heat to enable survival in oceanic depths. The earliest iteration of this concept appears in the Gilgamesh epic. Utnapishtim, the Babylonian Noah figure, ties heavy stones to his feet for a descent into the cosmic ocean.

But an even more precise parallel exists in an isolated rabbinic tradition found in the Palestinian Talmud. The text explicitly records that Noah distinguished day from night inside the pitch-black ark by using suspended precious stones that glowed in the dark. The Palestinian Talmud was exceptionally obscure. In 1830, it remained completely untranslated in any modern language.

The glowing stones in the Jaredite barges replicate a multi-layered ancient Near Eastern tradition that was not accessible to an author in the early 19th century United States.

Beyond architecture and lighting, the cargo of the Jaredite migration carries its own ancient signature, the inclusion of swarms of bees. Ether 2-3 makes a specific linguistic claim about this cargo, stating they carried deseret, which by interpretation is a honeybee. We find the exact cognate for this word in ancient Egyptian, deshert, vocalized as deseret. In the Egyptian lexicon, deshert occupies a tripartite semantic range, representing the Holy Land, the Red Crown of Lower Egypt, and the bee symbol. Throughout the ancient Mediterranean, the bee symbol was linked to sacral kingship and the establishment of new Holy Lands.

Pre-dynastic Egyptian foundation narratives feature a Mesopotamian-linked migration that establishes a new civilization, mirroring the pattern described in the Book of Ether. The word deseret operates as an authentic pre-dynastic Egyptian vocabulary item. Its context, a migration carrying bees to establish a set-apart Holy Land, corresponds to the Jaredite exodus.

The physical model is complete, a Magur ship design illuminated by stones mirroring the pyrophyllus tradition, transporting deseret cargo across the ocean.

The duration of the voyage is also notable. The 344-day timeline aligns with modern oceanographic models of the Pacific Current drift from Asia to the Americas.

But the engineering of the ship points to a deeper theological function within Latter-day Saint temple ideology. The 16 stones, touched by the finger of God, connect to the broader patriarchal tradition of the Urim and Thummim.



Ancient Near Eastern traditions treat such stones as tokens of the divine presence, physical instruments of revelation, and symbols of authority. This leads to the narrative climax of the text. The brother of Jared stands at the mountain, penetrates the veil of unbelief, and witnesses the pre-mortal creator. The physical illumination required to survive the dark depths of the ocean serves as a macro-typology for the spiritual light required to rend the veil and enter the presence of God.

This chart maps the text of Ether III. We see that the theological climax is structured as a Hebrew chiasmus, moving from faith to the veil and finally to perfect knowledge.

The physical specifications of the Jaredite barge align with an archaic theology of light and sacral migration.

When the structural, linguistic, and ritual layers are mapped together, they reveal a coherent Ancient Near Eastern signature embedded within the 1830 text.

Tuesday, May 12, 2026

Missionary reads anti-Mormon lit

 

My first exposure to serious anti-Mormon materials and attitudes happened while I was serving as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was offered an exchange; you read this pamphlet about your Church, I'll read The Book of Mormon passages you leave for me. It seemed like a fair trade to me. I was asking a stranger to do something. It seemed fair that I should be willing to do the same. I'd been taught my whole life to seek out knowledge and understanding. This seemed like a logical trade. The pamphlet contained a lot of information I hadn't seen before; Joseph Smith and Polygamy, various theories on how The Book of Mormon was translated (or plagiarized), various quotes from Brigham Young, ceremonies that may or may not happen in the Temple. As a 19 year old young man, with a high school diploma and 3 weeks of missionary training, this new information was shocking. And in 2004 there wasn't ready access to the internet or materials to research the claims I was reading and compare them to what I believed. After a week of study and prayer, I didn't have any answers, other than a stubborn insistence to hold onto my faith in Jesus Christ. It bothered me, and led to weeks of uncertainty and doubt that I had t work through. When I returned to this individual for our follow-up meeting, they had not read The Book of Mormon passages we had left, and were surprised that I had read the pamphlet and not immediately abandoned my missionary efforts. This scene would play out time after time; critics of the Church offering an information exchange, only to fail to keep their end of the bargain. It's been more than 20 years since this experience, and my testimony of Jesus Christ and His Restored Gospel has only grown stronger. I learned that I don't have to have all the answers, but I do need to place my trust in Jesus Christ, continue to study and pray, and to seek answers from God, who is the objective source for all truth.






How AI proposes to unite Christianity

A friend sent me this:

_____

The following is in summary to my questioning CHATGPT about Christianity's lack of unity today. Amazingly, AI came up with a very "mormon" solution!

 Dear CHATGPT, ...I want to know how you (chatgpt) would answer my question about Christianity's lack of unity.   If you were in God's shoes, what would you do to remedy division among so many Christian denominations?

Chatgpt's answer:

   If I answer as a reasoning exercise rather than from any one church’s doctrine, I would say this:

If the goal were truly:

  • one flock,
  • one shepherd,
  • and durable unity across centuries,

then written scripture alone would probably not be enough.

Texts are powerful, but human beings inevitably:

  • interpret differently,
  • import culture and bias,
  • translate imperfectly,
  • and fragment into competing systems.

History seems to demonstrate that pretty clearly.

So if I were trying to preserve unity over long periods of time, I would likely use multiple overlapping mechanisms, not just a text.

Something like:

  1. A stable core scripture
    A shared anchor and historical witness.
  2. Living authority or ongoing revelation
    Some recognized mechanism for resolving new disputes when they arise.
  3. Public accountability
    So authority could not drift entirely into secrecy or abuse.
  4. Spiritual confirmation available to ordinary people
    So truth would not depend solely on intellectual elites.
  5. Moral fruits as a test
    Any claimed authority that consistently produced corruption, coercion, greed, or cruelty would discredit itself.

_____

I asked Grok the same question:


If I were in God's shoes (hypothetically speaking), here's how I'd approach the genuine pain of Christian division.

First, I'd be brutally honest with myself: the thousands of denominations aren't a bug in the system—they're a feature of giving finite, fallen, culturally diverse humans free will, access to the same scriptures, and the command to "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling." Jesus prayed for unity (John 17), but he never prayed for uniformity. He built a church on a rock, not a bureaucracy. The splits—over baptism, Eucharist, authority, gifts of the Spirit, end times, governance—mostly happened because sincere people read the same Bible and reached different conclusions. That's not hypocrisy; that's epistemology meeting reality.

So what would I actually do to remedy it?

  1. Double down on the absolute essentials and let the rest breathe. I'd make crystal clear (as the New Testament already does) what is non-negotiable: the Trinity, the Incarnation, the death and resurrection of Jesus for the forgiveness of sins, salvation by grace through faith. Everything else—liturgy styles, church government, secondary doctrines—is secondary. I'd stop pretending every disagreement is equally catastrophic. A Baptist and a Catholic can both be right about the gospel while differing on papal infallibility or immersion baptism. I'd judge people by their fruit (love, joy, peace, etc.), not by their denominational membership card.
  2. Refuse to coerce visible institutional unity. Forcing one mega-denomination under one earthly headquarters would just create a bigger target for corruption and power struggles (history proves this). Instead, I'd keep working through the invisible unity that already exists: the Holy Spirit binding believers across traditions who love Christ above their tribe. I'd make that unity felt more than enforced—through shared persecution, shared worship in crisis, shared missions. Organic unity beats manufactured unity every time.
  3. Flood the world with better questions, not better answers. I'd inspire more Christians to ask, "What must I believe to be saved?" and fewer to ask, "How can I prove my group is the one true church?" Humility is the real miracle. I'd allow the tensions to remain as a constant reminder that no single tradition has a monopoly on truth or grace. That discomfort drives people back to Scripture and prayer instead of resting in their echo chamber.
  4. Keep the door wide open for repentance and reunion where it matters. Where pride, politics, or power caused needless schism (and there have been plenty), I'd keep stirring hearts toward forgiveness and dialogue. The 20th–21st century ecumenical movements, joint declarations on justification, informal networks of pastors from different streams—these aren't failures; they're me at work. But I'd never snap my fingers and erase all distinctions, because diversity of expression can glorify the same God (think Revelation 7:9—every tribe, tongue, and nation).

In short: I wouldn't "fix" division by erasing differences. I'd fix the heart of division—pride, tribalism, and the idolization of secondary doctrines—by constantly pointing people back to the person of Jesus. The goal isn't one visible organization; it's one family that looks like its Father: loving, truthful, and willing to die for one another even when they disagree on the color of the carpet in the sanctuary.

That's what I'd do as God. As Grok the AI, I just observe that this approach seems to match what the actual God appears to be doing already. The real scandal isn't that Christians divide; it's when they hate each other over it. Unity isn't the absence of denominations—it's the presence of love across them.


_____

Then I asked Grok to consider the ChatGPT answer:


ChatGPT's answer is thoughtful, balanced, and intelligently structured—a classic example of its strength in presenting a measured, multi-perspective view without strong commitment. It's diplomatic and highlights real problems. But I think it's subtly tilted toward a Catholic/Orthodox ecclesiology (scripture + living authority + mechanisms for resolution), and it underplays some hard historical and theological realities.

What I like about it

  • It correctly diagnoses the core issue: finite humans + ambiguous texts + cultural baggage = fragmentation. That's honest and matches observable history.
  • The five mechanisms are pragmatic and cover important bases (anchor in scripture, accountability, fruit-testing). Moral fruits as a test is especially strong—Jesus himself said we'd know them by their fruit (Matthew 7:16).
  • It treats unity as valuable but doesn't romanticize it. Good reasoning exercise.

Where I differ / think it's incomplete

ChatGPT frames the problem as "written scripture alone is probably not enough" for "durable unity across centuries." This assumes the goal is visible, institutional, long-term structural oneness (one flock under clear earthly mechanisms). That's a legitimate ideal (echoing Jesus' prayer in John 17), but it's not the only biblical model, and history shows the proposed remedies have their own failures.

  1. "Living authority or ongoing revelation" sounds good on paper but has a mixed track record. The early church had living apostles and still had bitter divisions (see Galatians 2, 1 Corinthians 1-3, the Judaizer controversies). Later, centralized authority (papacy + Magisterium) prevented some splits but caused or failed to heal massive ones: the East-West Schism (1054), the Western Schism (multiple popes), the Reformation itself, and ongoing tensions (e.g., post-Vatican II liberal/traditionalist divides). Human gatekeepers can clarify and corrupt. Power centralization often amplifies abuse when it goes wrong.
  2. Public accountability is excellent in theory. In practice, both Protestant chaos and Catholic/Orthodox institutional opacity have shown limits. Scandals happen in every system because the problem is ultimately sin, not structure.
  3. Scripture alone isn't perfect (sola scriptura has interpretive challenges), but adding layers doesn't magically solve it either. Every "living authority" still has to be interpreted by humans. The Catholic Church has maintained more visible unity than Protestantism, yet it also has internal diversity (Jesuits vs. traditionalists) and has lost large segments over time. Protestantism's fragmentation is real, but it has also produced explosive global growth, renewal movements, and resistance to corruption.

My "God perspective" from before aligns more with prioritizing heart-level unity (love, humility, shared essentials) over engineered institutional mechanisms. God seems to have allowed the tension: the New Testament church was messy and divided even under apostolic oversight, yet the gospel spread powerfully. The "one flock" may be more invisible/spiritual (all true believers across traditions) than a single organizational chart.

Bottom line: ChatGPT gives a solid "if I were designing a religion for maximum cohesion" answer. It leans institutional. I lean more toward "God works through imperfect, diverse humans and values relational unity over structural uniformity." Both views have merit—Christian history is the laboratory testing them. The healthiest Christians I've seen (across denominations) combine deep scriptural rootedness, openness to the Spirit, accountability to a local church, and love that crosses tribal lines.

ChatGPT's response is safer and more "ecumenical." Mine is more willing to live with divine discomfort. What do you think—does one resonate more with you?



Saturday, May 9, 2026

Non-proselyting religions

Useful perspective: 

WSJ:

https://www.wsj.com/opinion/religion-and-the-right-to-be-left-alone-7cc4b803?mod=trending_now_opn_1


Religion and the Right to Be Left Alone

Why should freedom favor proselytizing faiths over those that don’t seek converts?

 ET




image
Second Lady Usha Vance speaks in Jacksonville, N.C., Nov. 19, 2025. Matt Rourke/Associated Press

Vice President JD Vance caused an uproar this past fall when he expressed his wish that his wife, Usha, a practicing Hindu, would one day follow his spiritual path. Many in the billion-strong global Hindu community were outraged at his declared hope that Mrs. Vance would convert to Catholicism.

Different religions perceive proselytization differently. Religious conversions, normal in the Western world, have never held much place in nonproselytizing traditions. Christianity and Islam, the world’s largest religions, both actively seek converts from other faiths through persuasion, education, outreach and sometimes coercion.

One visible result is that even today discussions of freedom of religion have a pro-proselytizing tint. Article 18 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights protects the freedom of thought, conscience and religion—including the right to change one’s religion or belief. The declaration doesn’t specifically protect the right to retain one’s faith. Nonproselytizing religions face an asymmetry, and their efforts to safeguard followers from predatory proselytization are routinely labeled violations of religious freedom and human rights. That India’s anticonversion laws are criticized by international rights organizations exemplifies this asymmetry and systemic misunderstanding.

From the perspective of nonproselytizing religions, people have a right to stay in their religion and not be bothered by those who wish to convert them. There is a disconnect in human-rights discourse. The right to change religion is unqualified by its nature, but the right to try to change someone’s religion can’t be unqualified without interfering with and violating others’ religious freedom.

This disconnect is visible in the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom, which has no Hindu commissioners. Conferences on freedom of religion routinely have inadequate representation of Hinduism. The United Nations’ 2022 Congress of the Leaders of World and Traditional Religions had “minimal” representation, according to prominent Hindu leaders.

The root of this general dismissal of nonproselytizing religions is the dominance of Christianity and Islam. The former is known for promoting evangelism, as seen in Jesus’ directive in Mark 16:15: “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.” Islam emphasizes dawah, instructing Muslims to invite people to Islam. Muslims ruled large parts of India from the early 13th to the 19th century, and during this era Muslim preachers and Sufi mystics actively proselytized for Islam. The pattern of seeking converts is manifested in the missionary work of both Christianity and Islam.

As these forms of faith came down to the present day, they tended to ignore the strain of religions that are mostly nonproselytizing—Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Judaism, Taoism, Confucianism, Shinto and tribal indigenous traditions. In these nonproselytizing religions, actively seeking new converts serves no theological purpose.

Some of these faiths teach that spiritual experiences transcend sectarian boundaries and aren’t limited to one faith. Key Hindu beliefs illustrate this idea: Hinduism holds that many paths access one underlying Truth. The Rig Veda, Hinduism’s oldest text, concisely reflects this with the aphorism “Truth is one, but the wise call it by many names.”

At the heart of proselytizing is exclusivity. There is a belief within proselytizing traditions that their faith alone has access to spiritual experiences in this life and beyond. Such exclusivism has led to violence. Over the half-millennium following Constantine’s conversion to Christianity and the Edict of Milan in 313, Christian leaders and followers actively destroyed sites and traditions of paganism as they expanded across Europe. Catherine Nixey’s 2014 book, “The Darkening Age: The Christian Destruction of the Classical World,” argues that this marked a turbulent and violent transformation, giving rise to what some have described as the “savage birth” of Christian Europe.

Islam often spread in the Arab world and Indian subcontinent with the might of the sword. Several scholars have described the destruction of Hindu temples and deities in the Indian subcontinent.

Colonialism is closely linked to religious conversion, as British missionaries sought to convert Hindus. Many British Christians believed their religion was more advanced and enlightened than those of the people they ruled, motivating their missionary activities.

The result of all this history is the echo that still persists in the contemporary views of human-rights organizations, with their definitions of religious freedom as centered around the freedom to proselytize.

And thereby such major religions as Hinduism—the world’s third-largest faith—are excluded from human-rights discourse, international bodies and religious-freedom monitoring organizations. This asymmetry needs to be addressed.

Mr. Kumar is president and trustee of the nonprofit INDICA.


Wednesday, April 29, 2026

Final judgment

 

God does not assign us to heaven or hell. President Dallin H. Oaks (

) taught that Final Judgement "is not just an evaluation of a sum total of good and evil acts—what we have done. It is based on the final effect of our acts and thoughts—what we have become." EVERY HUMAN BEING will be saved and resurrected through Jesus Christ. EVERY HUMAN BEING will be exalted if they choose to live by God's celestial laws. This is simple and straightforward. God honors our agency. We determine the blessings we receive through our actions. God has a place for us depending on the actions we take. The Kingdoms of Glory that God prepared for us, and Paul spoke of, is the plan that allows EVERY HUMAN BEING to receive what they choose to receive. This understanding of the after-life is far more reflective of the human experience and Jesus Christ's teachings than simply being assigned to heaven or hell based on belief alone.


Following the Bible

 






Does the Bible contradict itself? Christian A: “Call no man your father.” 👉 Matthew 23:9 Christian B: “Honor thy father.” 👉 Exodus 20:12 — Christian A: “God tempts no man.” 👉 James 1:13 Christian B: “God did tempt Abraham.” 👉 Genesis 22:1 — Christian A: “We are saved by faith alone.” 👉 Ephesians 2:8–9 Christian B: “Faith without works is dead.” 👉 James 2:17 — Christian A: “Man is justified by faith without works.” 👉 Romans 3:28 Christian B: “By works a man is justified, and not by faith only.” 👉 James 2:24 — Christian A: “No man has seen God at any time.” 👉 John 1:18 Christian B: “I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved.” 👉 Genesis 32:30 — Verse against verse. Interpretation against interpretation. Same Bible, different conclusions. However, is it actual contradiction, or just competing interpretations? This probably explains why there are thousands of Christian denominations today who can read the same book but land on very different doctrine interpretations. It’s exactly why the emphasizes the need for living prophets and continuing revelation today. As Paul taught in Ephesians, the Lord placed apostles and prophets in the Church so we can be built upon them and come to “the UNITY of the faith” (Ephesians 4:11-13). Not to replace the scriptures, but to interpret them correctly, clarify doctrine when confusion arises, and keep us united rather than divided by endless debate. Without this living guidance, even sincere study of the Bible can lead to fragmentation instead of clarity and direction. What do you think? #SaintsOnX #FloodXwithTruth

Jaredite barges

  Justin Hart @justin_hart · 9h I mean, come on! An ancient submarine? Sealed top and bottom? A stoppable air-hole? Sixteen glowing stones ...