Author's Note:
This article was published on KSL.com in June, 2012. I thought readers of this blog would be interested in the relevance to pop culture and its influence on the motion picture industry.

SALT LAKE CITY — It’s official, apparently. The movie “The Avengers” has broken all box office records, making it the all-time, most popular movie. Audiences are blown away by the action-packed battles between good and evil, and between the egomaniacal characters themselves.

So, why all this escalating interest in comic book heroes and primeval gods? How did fantastic tales of superheroes battling aliens and mythic gods warring with one another as well as chaos monsters grow in popularity to eclipse all other movie genera?

The Avengers

In the waning decades of the last century, comic book superheroes had nearly disappeared from the cultural milieu, and reading of the Greek classics such as Homer’s "Iliad" and the "Odyssey" had long since vanished from education’s curricula. So why all the renewed interest in a species of entertainment that had all but disappeared in the latter part of the last century?

Looking back, perhaps we can see why and what it says about our day and time.

Ancient Superheroes

It’s obvious to all who have dabbled in mythology that these crusaders are modern, technological reincarnations of the cosmic gods and monsters of antiquity. Their quarrelsome, contentious natures — "Transformers" being the best modern example — are obviously derived from their counterparts in ancient mythology. Consider Zeus and his band of misfit Titans, incessantly plotting and scheming against one another when they aren’t actually in open, armed conflict.

While such tales of cosmic chaos, where gods and monsters do battle in the heavens, are universal in ancient lore and cultures worldwide, we get our best glimpse of these interplanetary loners, persecutors and tyrants from the Greek tradition.

The Hydra

In fact, the name for the very place where we go today to witness these horrific spectacles derives from the Greek word for goddess, “thea.” The Greeks called the battles of their sky gods “theomachy,” and government by the gods “theocracy.” Thus, “theater” meant a place for witnessing the exploits of the ancient gods. Their adventures were also rehearsed up close and personal in the rites and rituals enacted in sacred precincts such as temples, henges, kivas and pyramids. Each initiate actually participated ritually in the daring acts or missteps of the gods, goddesses and monsters — some few involuntarily, as in the Aztec ritual of human sacrifice.In Greek custom, the traditional clashes of the gods were rehearsed by actors on a stage using the best special effects they could muster. Gods, beasts and monsters entered the stage in elaborate, sometimes grotesque costume. Their special effects included the roaring sound of battle, theomachy, which could be heard as crude mechanical monstrosities such as Hydra, the serpent like monster with multiple heads, appeared as if from out of nowhere to engage the god and demigod actors on stage.

In fact, the very basis for most of our fiction centers on the confrontation of the villain and the hero, a universal theme in ancient lore.

Modern theater employs an upgraded version of Greek theater, with eye-popping special effects, emotive sound effects and dynamic musical orchestrations — all produced at ear-splitting, mind-boggling levels for added psychological effect. The surreal theomachy of these bullies is spectacularly recreated and take theater to a whole new emotional level.

But make no mistake: Though the Greeks’ efforts were crude by our standards, they had no less an effect on ancient audiences than modern technology allows movie creators to inflict on us. The ancients reacted the same way we do: We enjoy it!

While it takes us on an emotional roller coaster and fills us with dread and astonishment, it also fills deep-seated emotional and psychological needs. Any psychologist worth his salt will tell you that they’re a reflection of the uncertain world we see around us and the anxiety we feel as a result.

 

Godzilla
    

Modern Heroes

The comic book versions of these gods, goddesses and monsters, those we called “action heroes,” and the crude science fiction movie genre that exploded onto the big screen in the aftermath of the Second World War alleviated the doomsday anxiety of a generation of Americans that had seen genocide in that conflict and lived under the threat of nuclear annihilation. Their common storyline involved an effort to set right a world threatened by everything from petty criminals to maniacal tyrants to malevolent aliens from other worlds and dimensions.When the heroes in comic books or the silver screen defeated the villains, it was reassuring. The world seemed less menacing, less overwhelming. It was escapism, a subconscious effort to assure ourselves that all could be made right in an otherwise uncertain, chaotic and threatening world.

Perhaps looking at it from the perspective of another culture will help clarify.

In the wake of nuclear events that leveled most of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Japanese culture invented Godzilla, a fire-breathing dragon stirred from its tomb by the belligerent behavior of the human race and its abuse of technology. He is the incarnation of the mythic dragons of yesteryear. His more recent silver screen counterparts include the monsters from "Alien," "Predator" and even Hollywood's latest take on the monster from the epic poem "Beowulf."

Future Heroes

By extrapolation then, we conclude that the resurgence of this motion picture category in recent years resides in our collective experience, just as it was with the Japanese. So, too, with the ancients, experiencing the problematic nature of the human condition, sought emotional and psychological refuge in ritual sublimation and escapism.

The trigger that spurred the resurgence of heroic and deific cinemas in recent years was the horrific collapse of the World Trade Towers on Sept. 11, 2001, and the struggle to defeat terrorism. Now, our superheroes, gods, monsters, dragons and demigods have emerged once again on the movie screen with a vengeance. And with the impact imparted by computer-enhanced special effects, these hero- based epics are spectacular and action-packed.

This being the case, one may be forgiven for making a couple of predictions.

If world tensions ease, the popularity of this variety of motion pictures will diminish to the same degree. But if world tensions continue or escalate, it will become even more prevalent, popular and graphic. But more than that, the time may come when the pacifying effects of such movies will not be enough. Like our ancestors, if the provocation to re-enact becomes great enough, the urge will be seen in the streets. Modern society will seek ways to inflict this chaos. We will become suffering actors in our own caustic drama.

The Missing Writings

The statements of the Lord to Nephi in the Book of Mormon present today’s Latter-day Saints with a significant conundrum. Let’s take a close look to see what it’s all about.

We begin by quoting the germane passages from 2nd Nephi, chapter 29, in an order that clarifies and lends weight to the Lord’s vital message:

“Know ye not that . . . I bring forth my word unto the children of men, yea, even upon all the nations of the earth?” (2 Nephi 29:7) Well, that’s good news. And it seems only fair that all the “nations of the earth” should have the word of God. That’s the assignment of the church. That’s why we do missionary work. We go door-to-door with our revealed scriptures and our sacred message of restoration.

“Wherefore . . . neither need ye suppose that I have not caused more to be written.” (2 Nephi 29:10) What? More writings than what came out of the Restoration? Curious. Isn’t what we have enough? Is God telling us that there is much more out there than what we have in our present canon?

“For I command all men . . . that they shall write the words which I speak unto them; . . . (2 Nephi 29:11) Okay. That puts a bit of a different spin on the previous verses. This verse seems to imply that God has revealed his “words” to people everywhere, down through time. Again, that seems only right and fair. So far, so good.

“. . . and I shall also speak unto all nations of the earth and they shall write it.” (2 Nephi 29:12) Repetition . . . just so we don’t misunderstand. Got it. There are writings from “all nations of the earth,” which were given to them by God. So, maybe this isn’t just about missionary work. Maybe it’s about revelation to all nations or cultures down through time.

Of course, we have the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants and the Pearl of Great Price. But these verses seem to indicate that there is much more out there, given to “all nations of the earth” that qualifies as the word of God.

With the clarity of the previous verses, we could hardly suppose that the few scriptures or “words” that we have is all there is. But if that conclusion is correct, where are these other writings? When we look around for these so called “writings” or texts, we see nothing like the messages we find in our scripture. Therein lies our enigma.

“Wherefore, I speak the same words unto one nation like unto another.” (2 Nephi 29:8) That seems significant. It implies that the message to every nation has been the same. But if that’s the case, why don’t we see a lot of other scripture out there like that which we now have?

This seems to be a contradiction. God told Nephi that there are “writings” the world over that have the same story to tell as our “writings” or scripture. However, when we look around, we see nothing else like our scriptures, seemingly.

“. . . I will judge the world, every man according to their works, according to that which is written.” (2 Nephi 29:11) Just to add weight and immediacy to his proclamation to Nephi, the Lord tells us that everyone will be judged by all that has been written. Since that includes us, we might want to locate these other “writings” in order to study and appreciate their message.

If we are to believe what the Lord says to Nephi, there is much more out there than our present canon that qualifies as scripture. Clearly, we must be missing a lot. Given the many nations or cultures in the world, the promised words should amount to a sizable body of text.

So, where are promised words from “all nations of the earth?” Where is this considerable body of text? Is it truly missing, or are we just unwilling to recognize them as writings inspired by God, as scripture?

The truth is, they’re all around us. They are the sacred records of ancient civilizations, unearthed by archeologists and salvaged by scholars from obscurity. They are a voluminous corpus of writings that all tell the same story. They are classified as creation stories, flood stories, ascension literature, dreams, visions, mythology and tradition. There are texts that relate ancient temple rituals, sacred dramas, the exploits of gods, goddesses, beasts and dragons. They all tell the same story, but each is told from the perspective of its own culture.

And here’s where I lose most Latter-day Saints, sadly. But it's the truth. The story is about the ancient heavens--cosmology.

The Joseph Smith papyri are an excellent example. That’s why he included them in our canon. As Nibley repeatedly and emphatically pointed out, their message is cosmological. We just can’t make any sense of them because we don’t understand the role of cosmology in ancient cultures and in the gospel of Jesus Christ. These ancient texts are written with an eye to cosmology . . . the story of the ancient heavens. And because most Mormons don’t recognize cosmology as a valid part of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, they ignore it.

But the Egyptian papyri carry the same story as that told in modern revelation of the very ancient books of Enoch, Abraham and Moses. It’s “a pearl of great price,” as Joseph valued it and so named it. And it’s all about cosmology – stars, planets, etc.

But that fabulous book is our least read and understood. While we marvel at the scope and magnificence of the cosmic vision given those ancient prophets, we puzzle over their message for us and the meaning of the papyri explanations Joseph included. We wonder at the strange words—Kolob, Hakokaubeam, Oliblish, etc.—but we miss the underlying, cosmic message.

And here’s another revelation: It’s the same story conveyed in our temple symbolism and endowment rituals. But we don’t understand them either, for the very same reason.

As it turns out, cosmology is the common denominator of all ancient belief systems, restored by our prophets in these latter days. That’s why God told Nephi, “Wherefore, I speak the same words unto one nation like unto another.” (2 Nephi 29:8) But we fail to see what is “plain and precious,” right before our eyes because our gospel training has not included cosmology.

That’s why whole books of our existing scripture, including some revealed through Joseph Smith, are still “sealed books” for us. We have neglected the concept of cosmology in our gospel study. As a result, Latter-day Saints have many scriptural “blind spots” that prevent them from understanding the very gospel they embrace. (For more information, try reading “Why Cosmology?” on this blog.)

Prophecy for Dummies

In my quest to popularize the advancing science of comparative mythology and plasma physics as they relate to the Restored Gospel, it occurred to me that the popular “… for Dummies” series, relating to everything from auto repair to brain surgery, might be helpful. A nuts-and-bolts approach to prophetic interpretation that employed an analogy about learning to read might help others better understand my approach. The following is the result. – A.E.L.

While we’re definitely not dummies, we all previously thought that one needed a prophetic calling or a PhD in order to interpret prophecy.

But I have found that not to be the case. Anyone who has learned to read—dummies like me and you—can also learn to understand prophecy.

This is done by simply following the clues throughout history, like Hansel and Gretel followed the breadcrumb trail through the forest, tracing the images or metaphors of prophecy to their source in Earth’s ancient heavens. Then, moving forward in time from antiquity to the present, one can map out their use as the prophets consistently employed them in various epochs and in a variety of cultures.

So, reading prophecy is not all that difficult. It’s learning how to understand it that’s a bit hard. That’s because we’ve never been properly schooled in prophetic imagery, a skill once known to all the prophets that has been lost to us over the eons.

And even though Joseph Smith clearly learned that skill, properly employed it and sought to reinstate its imagery in the minds of Latter-day Saints as part of the Restoration, the membership failed to grasp his meaning. (See “The Keys To Prophecy, #1-#12" and “What Joseph Knew.”)

Yes, reading the imagery of prophecy is an acquired skill, just like riding a bike or reading. In fact, the best analogy for learning to read prophecy comes from your own experience as you first began to read.

Think back to when you couldn’t read, before you learned your ABCs. Do you recall what the printed letters on a page looked like? I can. It looked like so much meaningless gobbledygook. There was no way you or I could make sense of it no matter how long we stared at it. Flipping the pages was futile. Trying to find meaning in it was pointless.

Well, that pretty much describes the situation where prophecy is concerned. You can understand the words, but the message is strange gibberish. Try as you might to find meaning in it or make sense of it, you cannot. Instead, your head begins to hurt. Reading various prophecies only further complicates the matter. It all seems to deal in that same bizarre imagery. Even reading books on the subject by supposed ‘authorities’ on prophecy leaves you no closer to understanding the stuff. And there are whole chunks of prophecy that the 'experts' all seem to avoid. Soon you despair, thinking that making sense of prophecy is going to be nearly impossible.

To teach you how to read, the teacher first started with the alphabet and letter recognition. Each letter had a name—A was “aee,” B was “bee,” and so on. And you learned to recognize them and identify them by name. Once you mastered the alphabet, you took your first step toward reading. But you still could not read.

The same is true of prophecy. To understand it, your teacher must take you back to the basics—stars, planets and plasmas. Why stars, planets and plasmas? Well, that’s where the language of prophecy came from. Earth’s ancient heavens were once alive with planets (the ancients called them stars, not planets) and electrified, glowing, lifelike plasma phenomenon. These impressive elements riveted the attention of ancient peoples the world over and sparked an explosion of imagination and imagery in all cultures.

Just like the letters of the alphabet, what the ancients saw in those long ago skies became the building blocks of all religious tradition and culture.

As analyzed elsewhere (See "A New Heaven and a New Earth," “The Saturn Myths and the Restored Gospel,” “The Saturn Epic: In The Beginning,” “The Saturn Epic: Mythmaking,” "The Polar Configuration and Joseph Smith," “Prophets and Plasmas” and “The Electric Universe”), with a little effort you’ll discover the reasons for believing that Earth’s ancient skies were vastly different than our own today. You’ll learn of the objects and images our ancestors saw in the astronomical theater, and we’ll give names to those planets and plasmas. This will be the prophetic equivalent of learning your ABCs.

The next thing our reading teacher did was to show us that each letter had one or more sounds. That further complicated things, but we were told that it would all become clear if we just persevered. So, we went down the now familiar alphabet assigning sounds to each of them. We learned, for example, that the letter C could have an “sss” sound as in “see,” or a “kay” sound as in “cat.” This was further complication and confusion for our struggling young minds.

Unlike today, where planets are little more than bright, distant stars in the sky, these planets and plasmas were very close.They were overwhelming and imposing because they were close to the Earth. They actually appeared larger than the moon does today. Brilliantly lit, dynamic and magnificent in ancient skies, these planets and plasmas were reverenced as gods or primeval powers.

And ancient onlookers assigned distinctive characteristics or personalities to these nearby planets and plasmas, based on their appearance, movements and changes. They were considered gods, supernatural powers that ruled the heavens, their sole habitat. The “theater of the gods,” then, was the ancient firmament overhead. In the cultures of antiquity, these planets and plasmas became human-like or animal-like gods who acted out their epoch stories on that grandiose stage.

Their identities included names, though those names varied from culture to culture. Even within a single culture, the same astral object acquired numerous names as it moved and changed over time. To modern eyes, this riotous nomenclature of ancient gods offers only confusion. To the ancients it made perfect sense since each name identified a unique aspect of their planet or plasma gods.

But the identities and attributes of those gods were strikingly similar in every cultural tradition because the look and behavior of those planets and plasmas was consistently interpreted the same way from culture to culture. This was due to the fact that the appearance and actions of these gods or powers suggested the same characteristics, natures or personalities in the minds of the ancients the world over.

For this reason, the ancients wrote and spoke of them as if they were living beings or creatures, and they so illustrated them in their sacred art. For example, Saturn (the largest of the planets seen in earthly skies) was the “father god” or “creator,” Venus came to be seen as the original “queen of heaven” or “mother goddess” and Mars became her “son,” the “hero” and the “warrior,” among many other designations. And the plasmas that were seen stretching between the planets took on a large number of identities: a connecting sky pillar, celestial tree, world mountain, astral river and ladder, stairway or path to heaven. Such commonalities allow us to identify each of the primary actors by their role in Earth’s ancient heavens and the traditions of mankind, no matter what name they went by in the various ancient cultures.

Returning once again to our reading analogy, we recall that our teacher introduced the notion that stringing several letters together produced a readable word. To read it, we used the sounds we had learned for each letter, and we were encouraged to “sound out” the more difficult words phonetically. And so we began to haltingly read our first words. “Look, Jane. See Dick run. Run, Dick, run.”

This was a bit of a tricky process. Sounding out each letter and then stringing those sounds together didn’t always produce a recognizable word. We soon learned that there were more complex rules that governed the way some groups of letters sounded. The u-g-h in “laugh” or “tough” made an “fff” sound, even though when those three stood alone they said “Ugh!” Still more complexity to master.

The corollary in learning to read prophecy is the realization that prophetic interpretation assigned a number of roles or characteristics to each of the congregate powers in the sky. For example, Venus was not only the mother goddess, she later became Mars’ crown of light, the “hand” of god, the wife of Saturn and ultimately a raging, angry goddess. One plasma conduit, stretching between Mars and Venus, was described as a dragon, beast or monster because it writhed, undulated and twisted like a snake.

And the complexity of these cosmic forms only grows and multiplies as we survey the literature and traditions of ancient cultures. These original forms, prototypes or archetypes became the basis for nearly innumerable traditional and religious narratives, and their perceived behaviors became the stuff of sacred rituals in all ancient cultures.

Mastering the use of these archetypes by understanding their astral origins allows any reader to interpret them wherever they are found: in religious ritual, in narratives such as scripture, in hieroglyphics, monumental architecture, petroglyphs or sacred symbols.

In our reading analogy, we eventually discovered that words could be grouped into sentences to complete a thought. And several sentences comprised a paragraph, a tidy group of thoughts that, when grouped together, made a summary or conveyed a concept.

In prophecy, we learn that a few simple symbols can convey whole narratives. In some cases, only one ideogram or hieroglyph invokes whole paragraphs of text.

Conversely, we learn that scriptural or religious metaphors have symbolic equivalents. This was a two-headed coin. On one side we have the symbol, and on the other we have its metaphoric equivalent. This allowed the ancients, most of whom could neither read nor write, to depict, read or relate a whole story with just a few symbols or a single ritual.

In reading, with practice came proficiency. After years of work, we mastered reading sufficient to extract meaning from any text. We were finally readers.

So, too, with deciphering prophecy. With some dedicated time and effort, we can train ourselves to read prophecy as easily as we read the morning paper.

But that was not all there was to reading. We soon learned that there were other languages. Some even used ideograms instead of an alphabet. That is, just when we think we’ve mastered it all, we discover that there are new horizons to explore.

So it is with prophetic language. Once we master the basics—the archetypes—once we learn the imagery those basics gave rise to, we can “read” any prophetic metaphor or arcane symbol as easily as we read the letters on a written page.

Of course when we reach that level, we discover to our amazement that what we have learned is only the tip of the iceberg. We quickly find that the imagery or language of prophecy is also the key to the vision of all the prophets, not just prophecy per se. And that includes the teachings of the prophet Joseph Smith. We realize, too, that it is the key to temple symbolism and ritual, both in ancient cultures and in the modern church.

We should have guessed that learning to interpret prophecy, like learning to read, would ultimately reveal sweeping vistas of knowledge and understanding beyond anything we could have imagined at the outset of our quest.

I guess we’re not dummies after all.

©Anthony E. Larson, 2009

Living the Nephite Nightmare

(An Open Letter to all Latter-day Saints)

The Book of Mormon is a prophecy for our time.

This has been my thesis since the mid-1980s, when I wrote Parallel Histories: The Nephites and The Americans. It was written over 20 years ago in response to then church president Ezra Taft Benson’s call to carefully and diligently re-examine the Book of Mormon. It was my effort to comply with his earnest request.

Following Pres. Benson’s cue when he observed that we are the modern counterparts of the ancient Nephites, I explored the thesis that our two cultures were more than superficially similar. They are remarkably alike, in profound and meaningful ways. Because it was apparent that my fellow saints weren’t seeing the things that seemed obvious to me, I felt a book was needed which outlined and elaborated that thesis.

Several articles followed over the years, updating, authenticating and validating that book and its thesis. (See the four part series A Harbinger For Our Time, on this blog.) This monograph will further that approach by demonstrating that America has now crossed the final threshold in our headlong rush to unknowingly duplicate Nephite history in our time.

When comparing the two cultures, as we will do herein, one caveat must be kept foremost in mind: While the two histories are similar, displaying similar conditions and events, the two cultures, Nephite and American, are fundamentally different from one another. The resemblance or similarities may be profoundly significant, but the way events played out in Nephite times is unlikely to be identical to the way events play out in our time.

These differences are important to keep in mind. Don’t expect an exact fit. Theirs was a simpler, agrarian-based society; ours is far more complex, based in a largely industrialized and technology oriented society. Their theater was restricted to a regional one; ours is national and international in scope, with many factors that were nonexistent in Nephite times. Thus, events in the two histories must be compared carefully—allowing that each will unfold in different ways, yet they will display remarkable and significant similarities.

In this monograph, we move beyond the astonishing similarities identified in the original book’s presentation. We move beyond the resemblance of the last Lamanite/Nephite War to our Second World War. We move beyond the postwar economic boom that enriched both nations in their respective eras. We move beyond the identical moral and political corruption that ensued. We look beyond the ideological battles that characterized the campaign of the corrupt judges against Nephi, the son of Helaman and their similarities to the Clinton presidency. We look beyond the Gadianton wars and equivalencies that allowed the accurate prediction that today’s terrorists would become our counterpart to the Nephite’s Gadianton robbers during the Clinton and Bush presidencies.

Now we come to the crux of this monograph, the next major parallel between our two cultures. It is the failed internal struggle the Nephites fought to retain their representative form of government, complete with its freedoms and justice.

The Nephite culture had been governed for generations by a representative form remarkably similar to our own. Mosiah said it best: “Therefore, choose you by the voice of this people, judges, that ye may be judged according to the laws which have been given you by our fathers, which are correct, and which were given them by the hand of the Lord.

“Now it is not common that the voice of the people desireth anything contrary to that which is right; but it is common for the lesser part of the people to desire that which is not right; therefore this shall ye observe and make it your law—to do your business by the voice of the people.” (Mosiah 29: 25, 26.)

Mosiah’s observation later proved prophetic in the days of Third Nephi: it is nearly always a minority that wants to venture away from correct principles of governance. The time came, as it always does, when wealth led to pride and a division of Nephite society into classes, “… and some were lifted up unto pride and boastings because of their exceedingly great riches, yea, even unto great persecutions.” (3 Nephi 6:10.)

Social equality dissolved. “And the people began to be distinguished by ranks, according to their riches … for there were many merchants in the land, and also many lawyers, and many officers. … thus there became a great inequality in all the land.” (Ibid. 6: 12, 11, 14.)

Immediately, the wealthy, ruling class within the Nephite nation decided that they wanted to set aside government by the voice of the people and replace it with a monarchy, which would be indebted, naturally, to those of their elite status: “And they did set at defiance the law and the rights of their country … and to establish a king over the land, that the land should no more be at liberty but should be subject unto kings.” (Ibid. 6:30.)

Something strikingly similar seems to be happening before our very eyes today, though no one is trying to set up a monarchy. They don’t need to. The governing class has seen to it that our presidents will be “elected” from their ranks simply because a man of the people has no chance in the corrupt system set up by our politicians in the last half-century. A ruling class of elites, who have no desire to relinquish power, has infiltrated our two party system. They have set rules that make it nearly impossible to unseat them.

The will of the people is no longer of any concern to them. Progressivism (the newspeak term coined to replace the pejorative moniker, “Liberal”) has come to dominate Washington, with its doctrine that the “experts” from the elite social strata—such as corporate heads (“merchants” in Nephite times), politicians (“lawyers” and “priests” in Nephite times) and government officials (“officers” in Nephite times)—should make decisions for us.

When recent protests, populated by ordinary, mainstream Americans, erupted around this country in order to make their voices heard, those who govern and their media minions angrily derided, denounced and dismissed them as dangerously misguided malcontents. So it was in Nephite times when “those who were angered were chiefly the chief judges, and they who had been high priests and lawyers; yea, all those who were lawyers were angry with those who testified of these things.” (Ibid. 6: 21.)

Third Nephi records how it transpired in his day. “And they [the angry chief judges, high priests and lawyers] did enter into a covenant one with another … to combine against all righteousness.” (Ibid. 6: 28.)

Many in our day have made the same decision. They espouse the philosophy that God should have nothing to do with government, in spite of the fact that the founding fathers made just the opposite affirmation. Today’s ideologues obviously seek to constrain religion in any way possible, insisting that the people not allow it to have any part in the operation of their government, that there should be an impregnable firewall between government and religion so that governance cannot be informed by any religious creed or hegemony.

Religion has become the enemy of the Progressives in our day. They make every effort to marginalize and demean people of faith. In effect, those with this secular bent seek to divorce this nation from its religious or sectarian roots, “… to combine against all righteousness.”

The net effect of this initiative among the Nephite cultural elite was clearly manifest. “And they did set at defiance the law and the rights of their country … that the land should no more be at liberty …” (Ibid. 6: 30.)

Something appallingly similar seems to be afoot in our nation today. While politicians give flowery lip service to individual rights, public service and moral rectitude, their personal behavior is often just the opposite. Presidential associates and appointees, for example, are found to hold opinions that are blatantly contrary to constitutional principals and morality, some even openly condemn America and its traditional values. Hypocrisy seems rampant in both political parties. None seem trustworthy any longer.

The good news for us, perhaps, is that the chief judges, high priests and lawyers in Nephite times failed in their endeavor. No Nephite king was enthroned. This bodes well for the outcome of our similar state of affairs. But the net effect of the struggle utterly demolished their government, and it threatens to do so to ours as well.

Will this be our fate? “And the people were divided one against another; and they did separate one from another into tribes, every man according to his family and his kindred and friends; and thus they did destroy the government of the land.” (3 Nephi 7: 2.)

Yet, there was no warfare: “… there were no wars as yet among them.” (Ibid. 7: 5.) However, what we have certainly feels like a war, a contest of wills for power and supremacy, where the ammunition is words and the casualties are truth and justice.

But “the regulations of the government were destroyed, … and they did cause great contention in the land.” (3 Nephi 7: 7.)

Contention is the order of the day in Washington. Our government seems to be descending into chaos amid an extraordinary level of acrimony and controversy. There is an unprecedented rush to pass questionable legislation, without due deliberation and consideration. No one, including the legislators themselves in some cases, seems to know what provisions legislation contains or what it will cost. Our economy is staggering. Unemployment is rising. Our leaders are sending conflicting messages to us, to our allies and to our enemies.

Our condition bears ominous similarities to that of the Nephites.
“And thus six years had not passed away since the more part of the people had turned from their righteousness, like the dog to his vomit, or like the sow to her wallowing in the mire.” (3 Nephi 7: 8.)

Numerous pundits have commented on how quickly we have turned from our constitutional roots in recent years. We’ve done an about-face almost as quickly as did our Nephite cousins. They united to defeat terrorism, in the form of the Gadianton robbers, in their time. Then, in a handful of years, they tore their nation apart from within.

While the terrorist attack on the World Trade Towers immediately brought us together as a nation, speaking with one voice, subsequent events have moved rapidly to undermine our culture and our government. Like the Nephites, we have gone from united to divided in a few, short years. It seems apparent that if we continue on our present course, our nation will suffer a fate equally grievous to that of the Nephites.

Surely the inclusion of this tragic saga in the Nephite narrative was meant to warn us that we would suffer a similar outcome in our day. Surely, Mormon meant us to clearly see our time in this highly polished Nephite mirror.

Will we, too, live the Nephite nightmare?

This viewpoint, provided by an analysis of Nephite history, allows us to sort out the truth, to see through the subterfuge, confusion and contradiction that dominate our present political discourse. The media, the politicians and the pundits cannot misguide those of us who take the Book of Mormon as our guide. It provides a certain compass we can use to steer a course through the present and coming chaos. It is the “more sure word of prophecy,’ as Peter put it.

Given this perspective, no LDS politician who truly believes the Book of Mormon to be the word of God can, in good conscience, support the present movement away from constitutional principles where “the voice of the people” governs. He or she would have to first dismiss the Book of Mormon as irrelevant to our time. He or she would have to deny the God given rights that Nephite prophets declared were vested in the people. In effect, they would have to ignore the Book of Mormon, the very cornerstone of our religion.

I am well aware that my position will infuriate some Latter-day Saints. So be it. It was so with those who sought to undermine freedom and agency in Nephite times; it will be so now. Those who are so angered thereby betray their perfidy.
At the same time, this discourse will strike a chord of recognition in those who truly embrace the Book of Mormon and the Restored Gospel. They will see the remarkable similarities that mark the two histories, and they will want to do something about it.

So, you may ask, “What can I do?” The answer is both easy and hard.
First, as a believing Mormon, your concept of the sanctity of agency requires that you get involved—“anxiously engaged” is the Lord’s terminology. Of that I am certain.

But what I cannot tell you is ‘what’ you should do. You must make that determination for yourself. All I can add is to suggest you follow the counsel of Pres. Spencer W. Kimball: “Do it … now!”

We Latter-day Saints have not heeded the lessons chiseled in the Nephite record. We failed to take note of a vital part of that sacred witness, meant to warn us of our national folly. The diligence of those ancient prophets, who patiently carved their crucial message on precious plates of gold, the determination of a modern prophet to publish their revelation to the world at all odds and the repeated efforts of recent church leaders counseling us to re-read the Book of Mormon, saying that the church is under condemnation for failure to do so, has been set at naught by our indolence. We have the ignominious misfortune of watching the government of our nation self-destruct before our very eyes, just as did the Nephites, while we scarcely lift a finger to oppose it, let alone rush to save our Constitution. That sacred document has too long hung by a thread while we dally. As a result, the forces of evil and darkness are rapidly moving to grind it under the unforgiving foot of oppression and tyranny.

The time for mincing words is far past. It is time to declare our allegiance—either to God, agency and freedom or to watch our great nation follow those that have preceded us onto the scrapheap of failed nations down through history.

What happens next is too terrible to contemplate. If you care to know the details of what awaits us just around the corner, read 3 Nephi, chapter 8. And don’t think it couldn’t happen to us; every prophet since the beginning of time, including the Savior himself, has predicted our fate. Read it, O Zion, and weep, O Israel. Judgement is now at our doorstep.

© Anthony E. Larson, 2009

Proof that the Church Is True

Abstract: LDS temple tradition provides the strongest argument for the claim that Mormonism is the only true religion. Though we do not see it as such, our temple tradition has the virtue of providing physical evidence, empirically verifiable, that the church is a restoration of the ancient order, held sacred by all ancient cultures. Its existence in Mormon sacred tradition is long established, irrefutable fact, and its links to the past are becoming more verifiable every day, due to remarkable new research into ancient history, cosmology, comparative mythology and plasma physics. As such, it is the sole element in Mormonism that comes the closest to verifiable, demonstrable proof of Joseph Smith’s claims to divine revelation.

Revelation is the cornerstone of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Its founder, Joseph Smith, claimed to be a latter-day prophet of God. This claim of divine guidance thrust him into the 19th century limelight and continues today to energize the religion he founded, as well as providing fodder for attacks against it.

Our religion, popularly called Mormonism, purports to be a restoration, through the ministry of angelic and divine visitors to men, of the original church founded by Jesus Christ during his ministry. It is said to be the modern equivalent of that ‘primitive’ church, which was governed by apostles and prophets after Christ’s death and resurrection.

As verification of these bold claims, most Mormons point to internal ‘evidence.’ Some point to the Book of Mormon as evidence of Joseph Smith’s gift of translation via divine revelation. Some point to the restoration of the authentic priesthood by ministering angels at the inception of this dispensation. Still others point to the same organization in the modern church as that which existed in the primitive church, established by Christ himself.

For Mormons, our belief in these things comes from a personal verification by the Holy Spirit. We call it a “testimony.” We believe that all who seek it are entitled to this revelatory confirmation. It is, in our view, a more certain test than mere knowledge.

Nevertheless, in an effort to provide ‘evidence’ to support those claims to outsiders and to ourselves, many of us look for confirmation of our beliefs beyond that of a personal witness. We seek for corroboration, or as some would put it “proof,” in disciplines outside the church, in the scholarly and scientific world.

Hence, we see the interest among many Saints in the geography of the Book of Mormon, for example. Attempting to locate the present physical location of pre-Colombian Book of Mormon sites—external evidence—is a way of substantiating the claims that the book makes. Others among us look for documentary evidence that would support the church’s claims for the Egyptian papyri, which Joseph Smith also claimed to translate.

But anything approaching empirical truth is hard to come by when dealing with things metaphysical. These claims still rest almost wholly upon personal revelation. There is no empirical test for their validity. Belief cannot be verified with test tubes or telescopes. Things of the spirit that come via revelation simply do not lend themselves to physical investigation or empiricism.

It is at this point where our evidentiary efforts hit a dead end. It seems we are meant to accept these things on the strength of our faith, born of the personal witness we each acquire via revelation through our own diligent inquiry of God, rather than to any outside evidence.

Do not despair, however.

Ironically, there is an element, unique to Mormonism, which we overlook in our rush to assert to the world our authenticity as the one true church.

That overlooked element is the incorporation in our religion of temple use and practices, something other Christian denominations consider “pagan” and of little value. In fact, they see our use of temples as worthy of nothing except derision, ridicule and scorn. Yet it is in our temple tradition—in its purpose, its iconography and its ritual—that we find the best evidence for the validity of our claims.

How so, you ask? Let’s examine the potential for validation in this fascinating feature, exclusive to Mormonism.

From the outset, no other Christian denomination—from Catholicism to Protestantism, including the more recent Adventist and Millennialist movements—saw the need or value of a temple. Mormonism was and is still entirely unique to Christianity in that regard. To sectarians and religionists, Christianity had no need for a temple. In their eyes, temples—unlike chapels, synagogues and mosques—were solely a feature of pagan religions, certainly not a proper feature of Christ’s true church, established in the meridian of time.

In contrast, Joseph Smith established our temple tradition in Mormonism nearly 200 years ago, saying it was vital to the true religion. This point of departure is critical. Either he was right about temples and the rest of Christianity was wrong, or he was completely misguided and the orthodox view was the correct one.

Our temple use has changed little since then. Because the rites and rituals practiced within those sanctified walls are perceived to be sacrosanct, they’ve been kept inviolate, perfectly preserved word for word in their original state. While certain elements within our rites may have been eliminated, as some historians maintain, the basic rites themselves retain their original form. It cannot be argued, therefore, that discoveries of ancient beliefs and practices in recent times have influenced our temple rituals. They have not been significantly altered or added upon since their inception nearly two centuries ago.

Thus, it can be properly claimed that our temple tradition, as still practiced today, came solely through revelation to Joseph Smith, just as every other aspect of our religion, and not through modern discovery.

And mainstream Christianity is perfectly happy to allow that claim to stand, thinking it to their advantage. In their minds, our use of temples and our belief in odd doctrine gives them leverage to demonstrate to the world that Mormonism is a fraud, a “cult” rife with “pagan” practices perpetrated on foolish and gullible people by Joseph Smith and perpetuated up to the present day by designing men with questionable motives.

In order for Latter-day Saints to comprehend the full value of their temple tradition as a certain claim to divine revelation, they must first see temples for what they truly are: instructive institutions dedicated to rehearsing the past as well as the commonly acknowledged concept that they are sites for making sacred covenants. That is, most see LDS temple tradition as things revealed—hallowed knowledge and ritual having no connection to anything temporal or historical. But, nothing could be further from the truth.

It is this author’s claim that our temple rituals, what we call an endowment, find their origin in the same source as the sacred rites and rituals of all antique cultures: the ancient heavens—whether the ancient ritual takes the form of a dance around a bonfire by Native Americans, ceremonies in an Egyptian temple or pyramid, sacrificial rites on a Mayan pyramid, Inca rituals at Machu Picchu, strange Druidic or Celtic rituals in a henge, mysterious rites in a Hopi kiva, worship in a Buddhist or Hindu temple, ceremonies in a Hebrew, Babylonian, Greek or Roman temple or any other sacred practice in all reverenced precincts the world over.

Furthermore, our temple endowment rehearses the primary elements of all prophetic visions, what this author calls the “One Story.” That story tells of the ascension into heaven of the prophet or holy man via a stairway, path, road, ladder or mountain, which is based in cosmological imagery as well. As he progresses, the holy man encounters various “guardians” or “angels” to whom he must give certain secret signs and words in order to pass. Ultimately, the visionary reaches the celestial realms, where he sees God, the City of God or the Throne of God, elements that also have their origins in cosmological events. Thus, beginning to end, our temple endowment is a symbolic rehearsal of ancient cosmological events, the only exceptions being the sacred covenants or promises made in the endowment.

And there is much more. Antique temple ceremonies included rites of washing, anointing, coronation, resurrection and marriage, among many others—all elements also found in LDS temple rites.

In fact, upon close inspection, nearly every element of LDS temple ritual can be found in one form or another in ancient temple practices. As Dr. Hugh Nibley amply demonstrated with his many books, whole volumes could be dedicated to these similarities. (Detailed comparative analysis of cosmological events to ancient beliefs, traditions and practices and their relationship to LDS theology, scriptural interpretation and temple tradition is offered elsewhere in this author’s presentations. It will not be cited here and now. So voluminous, all encompassing and sweeping are these concepts that this forum is woefully inadequate for their proper delineation. Readers are encouraged to search out the information this author has provided, based in remarkable new research into ancient history, cosmology, comparative mythology, archeoastronomy, geology, archeology, anthropology and plasma physics, that has already been provided in his books, papers and occasional lectures, as well as forthcoming material to be made public as time and means permit.)

The vital element that Nibley failed to explore, and other LDS scholars presently fail to see, is the absolute connection between the temple traditions of all mankind and events in Earth’s ancient skies. When scholars do venture to connect temple practices to cosmology, their interpretation is restricted to explaining those traditions, rites and rituals in terms of the heavens we see overhead today, when in reality they actually relate to the “old heavens and the old earth,” as the ancients and modern revelation assert, of the Patriarchal Age, before and immediately after Noah’s Flood.

Such misplaced and misguided analysis on the part of modern LDS scholars leads to pronounced distortions of the scriptural, cultural and traditional record, leaving us with confusion and contradictions that cannot be reconciled, though many have attempted to do so.

In contrast, those contradictions and confusions vanish when looking at the evidence with this new, cosmological paradigm. Not only that, it throws open the door to discovery of the scriptures, prophetic and temple symbolism and metaphor in a way that anyone can understand. No advanced degrees are necessary—a development that every Latter-day Saint should applaud and embrace for their own edification, enlightenment and satisfaction.

Once those fabulous and magnificent sky pageants that played out in Earth’s heavens in the millennium from Adam to Abraham are properly understood, then the origin and meaning of temple rituals and tradition of all past cultures, as well as our own temple tradition, becomes crystal clear. It becomes obvious that ancient traditions and practices recall and celebrate astral elements unseen in modern skies.

When we acknowledge the astounding fact that LDS temple tradition reflects that same, ancient cosmological tradition, in all its principle elements and meanings, through rituals, furnishings and iconography, we discover that our temples are full of information from the past, powerful evidence that Joseph Smith tapped into the only source capable of relaying that information to him nearly two centuries ago: divine revelation. It therefore comes closer to providing proof of Mormonism’s claims than any other element of our religion.

It cannot be claimed that any of this knowledge was available anywhere else in the world. Least of all was it available to a young man living on the American frontier in the 19th century, since it is only now beginning to come to the fore as the result of research done by a few, avant guard scholars, researchers and scientists. Only now, with the formidable body of information coming to light in the last half century of research and discovery, can we begin to see the relevance of LDS temple tradition to the common roots of all ancient worship in past cosmological events.

That is not to say that cosmology is all there is to Mormonism or to its temple tradition. Not by any means. The same revelatory power that gave us a proper cosmological, temple tradition unique in modern Christianity also provided insights into the teachings of Jesus Christ that were either missing from the scriptural record or had been lost through apostasy. That is, the accuracy of our temple tradition lends great credibility to the rest of Mormonism’s claims. To put it another way, the conformity of the LDS temple tradition to its ancient counterparts comes closer to providing proof to the world of Mormonism’s validity than anything else we Latter-day Saints have to offer.

Joseph Smith’s was truly a dispensation of truth lost to the world until a prophet of God once more restored it in these latter days.

What Does Cosmology Have To Do With My Salvation?

When addressing Latter-day Saints, I often observe that cosmology — the study of planets and stars, suns and moons — and its attendant mythology was not just an affectation of Old Testament peoples. It was also an important, integral part of the gospel taught by Jesus Christ and embraced by the primitive church or early Christian religion. In his essay “Unrolling the Scrolls – Some Forgotten Witnesses,” Nibley, the preeminent LDS scholar for all things ancient wrote that “cosmism” was a “hallmark of early Christianity.” We know this because references to cosmological or astral elements — what Nibley calls cosmism — are found everywhere in early Christian and Jewish writings.

So, too, cosmology held an elevated status in the doctrine of the modern or restored church, though today’s Latter-day Saints are reluctant to acknowledge that fact, if they are aware of it at all. But there is no denying it. It’s everywhere in the hallmark elements of the modern church: in the Pearl of Great Price, in the Doctrine and Covenants, in the Book of Mormon as well as in our temple symbolism and ritual.

Because cosmological elements were part of Old Testament tradition as well as New Testament teachings and were fully reinstated by Joseph Smith in the Restoration, I also assert that knowledge of the ancient heavens, or cosmology, is vital to our salvation and exaltation.

I am not alone in this claim. In that same essay, Nibley also wrote that “somehow or other the physical cosmos is involved in the plan of salvation.”

Invariably, that claim leaves most Saints cold. Their rejoinder: “Now you’ve really gone over the top. What bearing can ancient cosmology and its handmaiden, mythology, possibly have on my salvation or exaltation?”

The history of planets, stars, moons, suns and their role in prophetic tradition are seldom considered useful in one’s attempt to understand the restored gospel sufficiently to obtain salvation and exaltation. Ask any Latter-day Saint what a study of the heavens has to do with being a proper church member or achieving perfection and he or she will likely say, “Nothing.”

But that answer could not be more wrong. In fact, the cosmology of the ancients has everything to do with our religion.

To that, you might say, “I don’t recall any discussion of planets, stars, moons or suns in any lesson I’ve ever heard on the plan of salvation. Why would Nibley make such a statement?”

To better understand, let’s read more of what he had to say on this subject.

As Christianity has been deeschatologized and demythologized in our own day, so in the fourth century it was thoroughly dematerialized, and ever since then anything smacking of “cosmism,” that is, tending to associate religion with the physical universe in any way, has been instantly condemned by Christian and Jewish clergy alike as paganism and blasphemy. Joseph Smith was taken to task for the crude literalism of his religion—not only talking with angels like regular people, but giving God the aspect attributed to him by the primitive prophets of Israel, and, strangest of all, unhesitatingly bringing other worlds and universes into the picture. Well, some of the early Christian and Jewish writers did the same thing; this weakness in them has been explained away as a Gnostic aberration, and yet today there is a marked tendency in all the churches to support the usual bloodless abstractions and stereotyped moral sermons with a touch of apocalyptic realism, which indeed now supplies the main appeal of some of the most sensationally successful evangelists. (Nibley, “Treasures in the Heavens,” p. 171.)

Just as Christian and Jewish clergy have distanced themselves from the cosmism, eschatology and mythology of the primitive church, modern Mormons have distanced themselves and their perception of their religion from those same elements reinstated in the modern church by Joseph Smith in the Restoration. In other words, we’ve repeated the same mistakes.

Because we don’t want to be condemned as pagans and our church as a cult, we emphasize our “Christianity” by distancing ourselves from cosmological elements, just as our Christian cousins have done. As a result, our discourse is little different from theirs. What Nibley says of other churches, I attribute to us as well: “…today there is a marked tendency in all the churches to support the usual bloodless abstractions and stereotyped moral sermons with a touch of apocalyptic realism …”

The marvel is that even though we don’t recognize those cosmological, eschatological and mythological components in our religion, they have been perfectly preserved in our revelations and our temples. The wonder is that we are nearly blind to them, making us ignorant of their utility in deciphering the teachings of the prophets and the message in our temples.

It is the very pervasiveness and utilitarian value of these cosmological components that compels me to make this admittedly radical claim, which I repeat: When trying to comprehend and apply the principles and teachings of the Restored Gospel, a thoroughgoing knowledge of ancient cosmology and its bearing upon Christ’s gospel and the message of the prophets is indispensable.

Clearly, the Lord thought it important enough to include cosmology in every aspect of the religion he restored through Joseph Smith. Without that understanding we cannot fully grasp the message of the Savior and the prophets, the essentials of salvation and exaltation. That’s why it was treasured and carefully preserved by Old Testament prophets, New Testament apostles and the first elder of this dispensation, Joseph Smith.

So, if you have to ask what all this ancient cosmology has to do with your salvation, as the title of this essay does, then you really haven’t internalized or fully understood the implications of this all important study. The value is apparent on the face of it. Our ignorance of these truths makes us vulnerable to misunderstanding and deception. Without it, we can easily misconstrue the message of the prophets; we can easily fall victims to the fraud that has engulfed the rest of Christianity.

With correct knowledge comes power, something Joseph emphasized time and again. Without the revelatory information and comprehension that come with the knowledge of ancient cosmology, we put our salvation and exaltation at risk.

© Anthony E. Larson, 2009

What The Prophets Saw

It’s this author’s contention that all the prophets saw the same vision: Ezekiel, Daniel, John, Lehi, Nephi, Moses, Abraham and even Joseph Smith. It’s the “One Vision” given to all who qualify, as near as I can determine.

We mistakenly assume they each had a different revelation because each account seems unique. Not so. They saw the same things, but described them in different terms or focused on specific elements of the greater vision to the exclusion of the remainder.

Prophets created a narrative to explain what they saw in terms that their contemporaries could understand. The variations in their accounts are a function of the cultural traditions of the society and era in which they lived. They had to use imagery common to the culture they lived in so that their message would be better understood.

We fail to see the commonality of prophetic accounts because those traditions have been wholly expunged from our culture. We know virtually nothing of the cosmological events that dominated the imagination of ancient cultures the world over, nor do we have any comprehension of the metaphors and icons those events spawned.

Yet, someone from ancient times, in whatever culture, would have easily understood those common elements. They all shared them in one form or another. It’s we, living in modern times, stripped of any knowledge of what actually happened in Earth’s ancient skies, who are ignorant of these things. The imagery entirely escapes us.

It’s like the “One Story” told by nearly every ancient culture the world over. In fact, that universal story is derived from many ancient sources because no single culture’s tradition tells the whole story. Only by assembling elements from various traditions can we see the whole story, a task easily accomplished using comparative mythology and an alternate view of ancient cosmology.

The prophets, upon seeing this remarkable vision, quickly realized that they were witnessing the genesis of all ancient lore, the archetype from which sprang all cultural religious tradition. They were overwhelmed by its magnificence, splendor and majesty.

And what was that vision? Well, while no one illustration or even animation can approach what the prophets saw standing in Earth’s ancient heavens, this animated video clip may give you some idea.

This vision was a presentation of the planetary history of our Earth in a “grand constellation of worlds,” as Orson Hyde put it (See “A Knowledge of the Stars.”), when our planet was thought of as God’s “footstool” (Doctrine and Covenants 38: 17.) and the greatest of these proximate planets was called the “throne of God,” as Pres. Brigham Young put it, and “Kolob” by Abraham. Its reality was accurately and tellingly illustrated by Joseph Smith when he made this drawing for Philo Dibble.


What does this mean to you? It means that this message is central to understanding the imagery and metaphor of the scriptures. It means that without it, no Latter-day Saint can fully appreciate the gospel message. It means that this concept is central to our temple experience, which is a reenactment of the prophets’ vision. This was Joseph Smith’s message to those Saints who were willing to accept it.

Where do you stand?

© Anthony E. Larson, 2009

Religion, Science and Catastrophism

An odd thing happened in both religion and science on the way from the past to the present.

Historically speaking, it is well known and accepted that in the Middle Ages the Christian church was the principal sponsor of education in Western cultures. The church held a tight rein. If you wanted an education, you first became a cleric. Thus it was that most scientists and scholars, before the Renaissance, arose from among the clergy of the day. Their worldview was shaped almost entirely by church dogma.

The split

When the Protestant reformation movement began, which eventually gave us the plethora of modern religious sects we see around us today, its earliest leaders came from among those same clerical ranks — Martin Luther, for example. They sought to reform the institutions and dogma of Roman Catholicism.

Ironically, at about the same time, the scholars and scientists as well sought to extricate themselves from the mother church and its orthodox religious dogma, which hindered real intellectual progress. Like their religious cousins, they sought a complete divorce from Roman Catholicism. So in a very real sense, science was simply another religion, a radical protesting faction born of the same milieu that gave rise to Protestantism.

Both catastrophist

The new religions turned to Bible fundamentals for their belief system, hence the term fundamentalism. The new sciences, however, had to invent their own catechism. Secular universities were founded to educate adherents in the new orthodoxy of science and scholasticism. Skepticism and empiricism replaced faith. Yet, not surprisingly, the two new offspring, science and breakaway religion, retained a considerable amount of dogma from the parent church. At the outset, they both shared the Creationist vision (Earth’s creation in seven days, Man’s creation from the dust, the Deluge shaped the world as we se it, etc.). They also shared a similar eschatology: The world would end in a new holocaust sent by the Creator. Thus, it can be said that both were catastrophist.

Ideological ‘drift’

Over time, science further refined its liturgy and its curriculum with doctrines such as Gradualism and Natural Selection. The two institutions — science and religion — drifted further apart over time, becoming more antagonistic and confrontational. In the 19th century, science eventually became patently uniformitarian and evolutionist while religion remained dogmatically catastrophist and creationist.

Ironically, an evangelistic spirit arose in both religion and science, each seeking to win disciples through proselytism. Naturally, a dissension emerged between the two that had not existed as long as the parent church dominated. While they were both trolling the same waters for believers, religion and science each won their own following or ‘congregation,’ if you will. Religion primarily held the hearts of the laymen, while science largely captured the hearts of the intellectuals. To begin with, there were few with feet in both camps.

Furthermore, science divested itself of any eschatology, while religion embraced it more fervently than ever. “Hellfire and damnation” were the watchwords heard from the pulpits of Christendom. On the other hand, if there were to be an end to the world, the scholars declared, it would come not by a god, but by slow, prolonged entropy, Earth’s life failing only when the life-giving light of the sun finally flickered and died. The religionists, on the other hand, retained the fervent belief in the penultimate holocaust, the final, catastrophic destruction of the world and all in it at its creator’s hand.

A revolution in thought

Then the nuclear age dawned, bringing with it a revolution in thought and an astonishing meeting of the minds in both camps.

The first nuclear detonations at the end of World War II brought some agreement between science and religion about the world’s end. Increasingly, they both saw doomsday as a world-devastating nuclear holocaust. Science predicted that mankind would ultimately destroy himself with his own malevolent invention, detonating megatons of nuclear devices in a superpower showdown that would plunge the Earth into a “nuclear winter,” eradicating all life. Science had finally found its own eschatological ‘sacrament.’

Oddly, this also brought and about-face in religionists. They suddenly seemed to agree with the scientists. They saw the atomic bomb as fulfillment of the Bible’s prophesied “fire and brimstone” at world’s end. A revolutionary reversal in Biblical exegesis saw the religionists proclaim that mankind, not God, would be Apollyon, the destroyer. Man now had the power to single-handedly bring about Armageddon. God could sit on the sidelines, a celestial spectator to the end of the world!

A new catastrophism

In the midst of this atomic age rapture, an iconoclastic scholar resurrected Catastrophism, to the horror of both science and religion. Immanuel Velikovsky preached the catastrophic nature of the universe to an unbelieving audience in both camps. Science reacted violently, damning him at every opportunity. Religion, more tellingly, simply ignored him.

Given religion’s catastrophist roots, one might have expected it to embrace Velikovsky and the new Catastrophism to some degree. Instead (and this is the odd thing), religionists have largely ‘shunned’ the Neocatastrophism Velikovsky preached.
Make no mistake, though. When pressed on the issues and worth of Catastrophism, most religionists tend to become even more shrill and acrimonious in their denunciation of it and its proponents than do scientists. Otherwise, they ignore it as if it did not exist.

A view from catastrophe

Catastrophists will see that the new Catastrophism is a litmus test for religion as well as science. In the last century or so, religion has cast off its catastrophist ‘vestments’ to such a degree that it rejects catastrophists and their theories as readily as does science. Thus, in today’s world, catastrophists find themselves ‘excommunicated’ from both science and religion.

Catastrophists will attest that the symbolism of religious imagery and the simple truths of science are all enriched by Catastrophism. Without it, both institutions are awash in ‘strange doctrine’ and ‘strange science.’ Modern religion no longer comprehends the origins of its traditional and scriptural symbolism, iconography, rites and rituals. Modern science turns a blind eye to revelations of fact that would overturn its sacred orthodoxy.

None the wiser

Yet, it is also clear to some catastrophists that both institutions would profit immensely were they to seriously consider Catastrophism and all it implies for the world we live in. Religion could rediscover the richness of it planetary traditions without threatening its faith and humanitarianism. Science would discover a whole new universe out there without sacrificing its empiricism and objectivity. Imagine what might be accomplished.

Sadly, both science and religion have created their own, modern mythology: science to avoid that which it cannot explain, and religion to deny the “paganism” and ancient mythology from which most of its traditions sprang.

The Mormon catastrophist

Mormons are no exception to this rule. Joseph Smith and the early brethren were catastrophists. They lived during the heyday of 19th century Catastrophism, before the concepts of Uniformity and Gradualism were popularized. One need only read their expressions on creation, Earth’s early history and the last days to realize that they believed that the planetary powers, guided by their creator, were responsible for past catastrophes as well as those predicted in scripture for the future. Yet, it is also clear that the Prophet’s views in all things were not shaped by the times in which he lived, but by his exposure to revealed truth.

Given Joseph Smith’s position on the subject, it is rather strange that most modern Latter-day Saints are uncomfortable with Catastrophism. Perhaps it is because they have not taken the time to adequately school themselves in the beliefs and teachings of their founding prophet. In addition, it may be due to the fact that formal gospel training fails to touch on the subject, except in passing. Catastrophism and its attendant hypotheses are studiously avoided in church teaching manuals, and it is never addressed over the pulpit.

Mormons are Christians

It appears to this author that most Saints have been seduced by the same delusion that has afflicted our Christian cousins. We have abandoned our catastrophist roots because they make us uncomfortable when discussed in the context of religion. It all sounds too pagan, too naturalistic and too material; it seems to lack the spiritual element that religion should espouse. Instead, we have adopted the uniformitarian view of the world that science espouses, simply because it is popular. In addition, it gives our antagonists less ammunition to use against us in our struggle to assert our Christianity. That is to say, if all Christendom is uniformitarian, then we should be too in order to appear equally Christian.

Our loss is … our loss

Yet, so much is lost in our present approach. If our scriptures were written by prophets who experienced great catastrophes and celestial displays, if they related those experiences to the gospel and to their visions of the future by creating a unique lexicon of iconographic symbols and written imagery, if our founding prophet was, indeed, a catastrophist, then denying and ignoring that element in their teachings leaves us with a rather sanitized understanding of their pronouncements, prophetic and otherwise.

The rich imagery and symbolism of the scriptures and the gospel can only be truly fathomed by first obtaining the same mindset as those who wrote them. Relating the prophets’ imagery to the unique symbols left everywhere by the cultures they lived in brings a remarkable depth of understanding to prophetic pronouncements. How can we say we understand the gospel if we ignore this vital element?

Joseph Smith did not ignore it. He embraced it. He dedicated considerable time to understanding the Egyptian culture, religion and symbolism because it was closely related to those same elements employed by the Hebrew prophets. Like Abraham, Joseph, sought to restore the cosmological knowledge of our forefathers. That invaluable knowledge is composed of a discussion of planets, stars and the heavens.

Like the Joseph Smith, the creators of Egyptian documents were obsessed with a combination of gods and heavenly bodies, embellishing and re-illustrating them in countless repetitions and variations. The Pearl of Great Price is loaded with such stuff. What is more, the iconography of the ancient world has adorned every temple constructed in this dispensation. Its imagery may look and sound pagan, but the Prophet dedicated considerable time and effort to its exposition. That must mean that it has significant relevance to the restored gospel. If it were unimportant or unrelated to the gospel, why is it in the scriptures and the temples he left us? Is it not reasonable to assume that if Joseph Smith thought a study of these things important, we should as well?

Ignoring Joseph's approach to religious symbolism leaves us in an untenable position. We utterly fail to understand the significance of these things to our comprehension of the gospel.

Is that what we want?

© Anthony E. Larson, 2004

Elijah and Fire From Heaven

Few Old Testament prophets were as colorful as Elijah. His best-known deed was the calling down of fire out of heaven, which event piques the curiosity of the inquisitive Bible student.

Perhaps few readers have ventured further in the Elijah story because beyond the basic concepts of a dramatic contest with the priests of Baal, the story becomes quite odd. But there is far more to his story that is instructive when one looks beyond the obvious. As ever, the catastrophist point of view illuminates and gives new meaning to the often-overlooked oddities in Elijah’s story.

The rest of the story

So, as Paul Harvey, the eminent news broadcaster, is fond of saying, “Here’s the rest of the story.”

Elijah’s ministry occurred during a time of gross apostasy in Northern Israel. King Ahab’s wife, Jezebel, brought the worship of Baal, the god of her people, the Phoenicians, to Israel’s Northern Kingdom.

We pick up the Bible narrative where Elijah makes some demands of Ahab that will set the scene for a confrontation with the priests of Baal.

Now therefore send, and gather to me all Israel unto mount Carmel, and the prophets of Baal four hundred and fifty, and the prophets of the groves four hundred, which eat at Jezebel’s table. (1 Kings 18:19.)

Once so gathered, Elijah did not preach to the Israelites, nor did he lecture them. He simply, eloquently, put the vital question to the Israelites present:

How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him. (1 Kings 18:21.)

When they had no answer for him, he challenged them.

I, even I only, remain a prophet of the Lord; but Baal’s prophets are four hundred and fifty men. (1 Kings 18:22.)

This was a subtle, but unmistakable reference to the difference between his monotheism and the polytheism of those he confronted. He alone served the one, true God, while the multitude of gods (Baalim) that Ahab, Jezebel, and the Israelites worshipped had a multitude of prophets to serve them. The implication was that by force of sheer numbers, the many prophets of the Baalim should be far more powerful than the sole prophet of Jehovah.

Elijah’s challenge

This was Elijah’s challenge to the priests of Baal:

Let them therefore give us two bullocks; and let them choose one bullock for themselves, and cut it in pieces, and lay it on wood, and put no fire under: and I will dress the other bullock, and lay it on wood, and put no fire under;
And call ye on the name of your gods, and I will call on the name of the Lord: and the God that answereth by fire, let him be God. (1 Kings 18:23, 24.)

The challenge, then, was to see which god would light the fire of sacrifice — an imposing demonstration for the true God since he alone could command the elements to do so. Thus, Elijah set the stage for the most dramatic demonstration of the powers of Jehovah since Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt during the Exodus.

Remarkable similarities

Indeed, the similarities between Moses, Joshua and Elijah are striking. Elijah, like Moses and Joshua, had clearly been informed by the Lord beforehand as to what was about to transpire in the heavens and how to take maximum advantage of the unusual phenomenon about to occur. It is also likely that none of these prophets completely understood what was about to happen, since they had never experienced anything remotely like this before. Still, they acted their part, as instructed.

A powerful lesson

A little foreknowledge goes a long way, giving considerable leverage and stature among onlookers to the one who seems to control such tremendous forces, especially when that information includes knowledge of the rare manifestations seen to accompany a major catastrophic event. There can be no better teaching aid.

Additionally, each worked his ‘miracles’ before thousands of people where failure was not an option. Such faith is rare. Most of us would rather go fishing than put ourselves in such a precarious position. One could easily lose reputation, if not his very life, if the promised miracles did not materialize.

Put yourself …

Imagine putting yourself in harm’s way as they did. The natural forces that would be unleashed in a natural catastrophe of the dimensions we are about to examine could as easily have destroyed the prophet if he failed to follow God’s instructions to the letter. Most of us would be inclined to run the other direction if we thought something catastrophic was about to happen in our neighborhood.

What is more, once they got over their astonishment at the event, the anger of the people for their humiliation and their loss in the wake of these Herculean phenomena would undoubtedly be directed at the prophet — an uncomfortable position, if not fatal, as Elijah learned. (See 1 Kings 19:10.) The bearer of bad tidings, say nothing of natural calamity, is often blamed for the outcome and held responsible with his life.

The idolaters take their turn

Returning to the narrative, we see that the priests of Baal initiated their part of the challenge on Mt. Carmel.

And they took the bullock which was given them, and they dressed it, and called on the name of Baal from morning even until noon, saying, O Baal, hear us. But there was no voice, nor any that answered. And they leaped upon the altar which was made. (1 Kings 18:26.)

These verses imply that they expected not only fire from heaven to ignite their sacrifice, but they also expected a voice. This may be so because such manifestations of heavenly fire had been accompanied in the past by the voice of god, which is in keeping with the catastrophist model of such events and serves to explain why they held that expectation. Indeed, even the bloodletting may have been in similitude of the blood from heaven that also accompanied such an event.

… And they cried aloud, and cut themselves after their manner with knives and lancets, till the blood gushed out upon them. (1 Kings 18:28.)

All their efforts were to no avail. Baal had failed to hear their pleas by sending fire from heaven, despite the fact that Baal was known as a fire god.

Elijah’s ‘miracle’

After verbally humiliating the priests of Baal at their failure, Elijah went to work on his part of the challenge. He built an altar with a trench around it.

And he put the wood in order, and cut the bullock in pieces, and laid him on the wood, and said, Fill four barrels with water, and pour it on the burnt sacrifice, and on the wood. (1 Kings 18:33.)

Perhaps to add insult to injury, Elijah ordered water poured upon the altar three times until the sacrifice was drenched and the trench around the alter was full. Then he was ready.

And it came to pass at the time of the offering of the evening sacrifice, that Elijah the prophet came near, and said, Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and of Israel, let it be known this day that thou art God in Israel, and that I am thy servant, and that I have done all these things at thy word. (1 Kings 18:36.)

Herein Elijah plainly states that he has been acting under the direction of God, as pointed out at the beginning of this article. Of course, the outcome of the challenge was predictable.

Fire from heaven

Fire fell from heaven, consumed the burnt sacrifice, and the wood, the stones, the dust, and “licked up” the water that was in the trench. (1 Kings 18:38.)
Note that this “fire” did not simply light the wood around the sacrifice. It consumed everything in the area — bullock, wood, stones, dust and water! Clearly, this was no ordinary fire.

The rest of the rest of the story

The remaining part of Elijah’s story, which is usually left out of any exegesis, actually holds the final keys to understanding the nature of the entire episode.
Most notably, Elijah and Ahab were far from the altar when the fire fell from heaven. Elijah orders Ahab up the mountain, saying, “Get thee up, eat and drink,” then follows the king to the top of Carmel. Likely, they are both participating in the consumption portion of the sacrifice, an eating and drinking ceremony, which later came to be the ordinance we know as the Sacrament.

Elijah sets a lookout … but for what?

While so engaged, Elijah sends his servant to keep watch, with instruction to “look toward the sea.” Since Mt. Carmel is located inland from the coast, that would mean the servant was looking east, toward the Mediterranean. The servant repeatedly returned with news that “There is nothing,” whereupon Elijah would send him again to look again. Clearly, Elijah knew something was coming and wanted to be certain of his timing to match the approaching body.

Finally, the seventh time the servant is sent to look, he sees a “little cloud” arise out of the sea and reports it to the prophet who then sends the servant to warn the king to get off the mountain. Elijah knows that it is time to seek shelter from what is to come.

Much more than heavenly fire

Elijah’s foreknowledge of the fire from heaven included far more than that single event.

And it came to pass in the meanwhile, that the heaven was black with clouds and wind, and there was a great rain.(1 Kings 18:45.)

Both Elijah and Ahab headed for Jezreel by different routes and means, assumably for the shelter of the city. But Elijah was immediately forced to flee when he learned that Jezebel, upon hearing from Ahab what Elijah had done, swore to take his life.

Wandering text

The narrative at this point diverts from the catastrophist nature of the events and becomes somewhat confused, making this author wonder if is not a later addition or a reorganization of the sequence of events by later writers. In this part of the narrative, Elijah once again takes a ritual sacrament of cake and water and interacts with an angel. This is all entirely plausible, but not in the time frame of the catastrophic event described.

What is clear is that Elijah was prepared to die.

… and he requested for himself that he might die; and said, It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life; … (1 Kings 19:4.)

But his resignation to death may not have been due to the threat uttered by Jezebel. The fact that Elijah ultimately takes refuge in a cave rather than some man-made dwelling suggests that he sought to escape a life-threatening, natural event of epic proportions that was unfolding around him. This was typical of past catastrophic events, even as it will be in future events. (See Revelation 6:15.)

Catastrophe spectator

Standing at the entrance to his cave, his face wrapped in his mantle for protection (vs. 13), Elijah watched the advancing storm.

And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind and earthquake; but the lord was not in the earthquake:
And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. (1 Kings 19:11, 12.)

This was the final chapter in a catastrophic event that only began with the fire from heaven. It properly should be connected with that event from the beginning of the narrative. The intervening text only serves to obscure that fact, leaving one to wonder if the chronicler truly understood what was going on at that point in time.

A possible model?

Searching for a catastrophist model that might explain all the strange manifestations reported in connection with Elijah’s challenge, perhaps the near-impact model best explains them.

Wal Thornhill, plasma physicist and proponent of the Electric Universe theory, does not agree with the typical impact scenario described by today’s planetary scientists and as depicted in recent motion pictures and television documentaries. He claims that long before most comets or asteroids that might have Earth in their crosshairs ever reach their target, a discharge or series of discharges leap across space to equalize the net electrical charge of the two bodies, Earth and the intruder.

Notably, the scenario outlined above fits the Elijah story very well. Not only would an interplanetary lightning bolt fall to earth from a clear sky, a mountain, elevated above a surrounding plane, would be a likely place for it to strike. Thus, Elijah’s decision to locate the challenge on Mt. Carmel would have facilitated such a strike.

Fire? Or lightning?

The fact that the lightning bolt not only consumed the sacrifice but the altars as well suggests another phenomenon that Thornhill ascribes to these interplanetary discharges: electric arc machining.

According to Thornhill, these discharges are not unlike the electric arc that welders use when they employ a carbon rod to machine away material from the point of contact. He theorizes that most cratering seen to scar the faces of planets and moons in our solar system are the result of electric arc machining. A brief arc of this type between the Earth and an intruder would suffice to explain the consumption by “fire” of Elijah’s sacrifice and altar.

A near impact

The “little cloud” that Elijah’s servant reports emerging from the sea was probably the approaching object as it seemed to rise from the horizon. Looking in the right place, one might see the object coming, depending upon its size, for several hours before it actually passed the Earth. This would also explain the subsequent events, whether the object impacted the Earth or narrowly missed.

Close pass or impact?

If the object passed close by the Earth, its gravitational and electrical influence would still have caused the darkened skies, wind and earthquake reported in the narrative. The sky would darken ominously, and what would have appeared to be a great storm would quickly approach as the effects of the intruder made themselves ever more manifest in the Earth’s meteorology. This would produce “a great and strong wind” followed immediately by an earthquake as the object passed by.

Hearing voices

The “still small voice” is often interpreted spiritually as the voice of the Holy Ghost. While that possibility cannot be discounted, it may be that this was not so in this case. Since the voice, in this case, occurred in immediate proximity to a series of catastrophic phenomena, it may have been another variation of the many sounds heard to come from the heavens in such planetary disasters. Sometimes it sounded like an spoken word, such as the name Yahweh, uttered as a roar or as a whisper. Other times it sounded like trumpets, bells, chimes, drums or cymbals. Sometimes it was harmonious, as a choir; other times it was more cacophonous and dissonant than the loudest rock-and-roll concert you can imagine. And sometimes, it was a “still small voice” that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Additionally, the narrative clearly differentiates between the “still small voice” and the voice of the angel that often conversed with Elijah.

Elijah’s catastrophe

So we see that the fire from heaven in the days of Elijah was likely only part of a greater catastrophic event. And like earlier prophets who came forward during ancient catastrophic events, Elijah was equal to the task. This puts him in elite company. Indeed, careful examination of the biblical record reveals that the greatest prophets, those most remembered and revered, served during times of planetary catastrophe.

Most biblical scholars, untrained in the discipline of catastrophism, fail to notice the larger picture. Thus, they focus on the various elements of the catastrophic event as autonomous and unrelated. In this author’s opinion, this presents a distorted and laconic view of the actual event. This is the case with many scriptural accounts, including Joshua’s Long Day, the Exodus and events predicted for the last days in Revelation.

One thing is certain. The catastrophist view of history and prophecy allows a more complete and revealing understanding of the scriptures than does the orthodox interpretation as we see in Elijah’s adventure.

© Anthony E. Larson, 2002