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

More on the Electric Universe

Einstein got it wrong … and so did Newton, for that matter.

Electricity was an unknown item, except as a novelty, in Newton’s day. Hence, his speculations on gravity did not take electricity and it’s considerable power into account. Einstein knew of electricity and charge, but as a mathematician, he discounted them in his calculations.

Even today, given the practical application of electricity’s power in our everyday lives, we are largely ignorant of its nature, its properties and its role in the universe. We know that it can generate light and heat. We know that electricity creates magnetic fields, and those can be harnessed to turn motors. It is the backbone of our modern age, bringing us all the comforts, benefits and wonders of our computer-driven, technological world. Yet, we still don’t really know how it works.

While scientists and engineers have harnessed electricity’s awesome power to our benefit, they do not understand it. That is, the fundamental nature and properties of electricity are still matters of conjecture — as are its cousins: light, magnetism and gravity. Though we know that they are interrelated, we do not understand how. Like light, electricity is still pretty much a mystery to us.

But we stand on the threshold of a quantum leap forward in our understanding of the very nature of our universe and its primary mover and shaker: electricity. If a few, maverick scientists and scholars are correct, electricity not only lights the universe, as it does our streets and homes, it creates and organizes them. It powers the sun, giving light and heat to our world and all the planets. It determines the orbits and the rotation of the various planets. It sculpts the face every planet, moon, comet and asteroid. It powers the weather systems of the planets, including our own. And, it even gives us life — an unacknowledged fact that will revolutionize the field of medicine when it becomes accepted.

Thanks to the emerging field of plasma physics, we are beginning to see how electricity works in the universe. We now know that electricity is a million, billion, billion, billion times more powerful than gravity. It is a force to be reckoned with.

For Latter-day Saints, all this, of course, becomes vital to our study of the gospel, rooted as it is in the symbolism of the past. That is, in order to fully understand past, cosmological events, we simply must have a clear understanding of the role electrically energetic plasmas played. Only then can we fully grasp the enormity of ancient events, as recorded in scripture and all ancient texts.

Comparative mythology gave us the key to open the door. From it we learned that in the distant past, Saturn visually dominated a unique, polar configuration of planets, of which our world was a part. But it could not explain the science behind that concept. The laws of gravity simply would not allow such a situation or condition. Plasma physics and recognition of the dynamic roles of electricity and charge in that ancient configuration provide the missing pieces to our puzzle.

We may now have at hand the means to explain Newton’s law of gravity. We may also be able to see the flaws in Einstein's theories.

Equally valuable, we now have not only the eyewitness accounts of the ancients, but we have empirical evidence, based on an entirely new paradigm, to tell us what happened in Earth’s ancient heavens that gave rise to all the imagery of the ancients — the same imagery that we see on the walls of temples, tombs, monuments and in ancient texts, like the scriptures.

The pioneers in plasma physics tell us that what they see in electrified plasmas in their laboratories they also see in intergalactic space. What they see in microscopic experiments is virtually identical to pictures given us by the Hubble telescope. The term for that similarity between the tiny plasma configurations seen in the lab and the gigantic ones seen in space is “scalability.” That is, large, small or in between, these plasmas behave in identical and predictable ways.

This is a vital concept. If these energetic, electrified plasmas, similar to those seen in the laboratory and through the Hubble telescope, were once proximate to the Earth in solar system-sized scale, if they dominated our ancient skies with the same plasma figures, then it should be no surprise to learn they are identical to ancient symbols. Rock art, called petroglyphs, reflect these similarities, as do all the icons of the past and the language they inspired.

This is a fruitful field of inquiry for any Mormon who wishes to understand the language of his or her scriptures. Only through recognizing the true, electrical nature of God’s universe can we properly understand him and his creations. Only by seeing the past, present and the future through these “electric” lenses can we fully grasp what our Father has done and how he has done it. Furthermore, we must wear these lenses to see and appreciate what he and his prophets have given us in the scriptures and the restored gospel.

© 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

Easter

Most Christians vaguely grasp the connections between Easter and Passover. What most do not understand are the deep roots both holidays have in paganism and Saturnian symbolism. However, such knowledge serves to explain much of the tradition and ritual surrounding this Christian holiday.

A Christian holiday

Easter celebrates the death and resurrection of the Savior in the meridian of time. Mormons, like the rest of Christianity, see the holiday as a time to remember and reverence that most sacred and remarkable event in all of history.

The entire philosophy of Christianity hinges on the resurrection. Without it, Christianity — and by inference, Mormonism as well — is just another religious philosophy among many. With the resurrection comes the promise that all will rise from the grave, Christ being the first fruits. This concept is at the heart of our religion.

The Passover connection

Easter’s connection with the Passover stems from the fact that the Savior’s crucifixion and resurrection in Jerusalem took place during the annual Jewish Passover celebration, a juxtaposition that was not lost on the Savior since he clearly chose the time and the place of his own expiation.

Seen from the catastrophist’s point of view, the Passover was a celebration of Israelite deliverance — not just from Egyptian bondage, but the entire planet from planetary catastrophe. Passover was the moment of closest approach between Earth and the comet Venus, hence the term “pass over.” It was the culmination of a series of plagues that afflicted not only Egypt, but also the entire world, according to Velikovsky.

So, too, in Christian eyes, Easter is a celebration of the deliverance of the human race from the bonds of death.

Both Easter and Passover involve the consumption of a ritual meal in remembrance of their deliverance. The Jewish Seder reflects the Lord’s directive that the Israelites eat roast lamb, unleavened bread and bitter herbs. (Exodus 12:8-10.) They do so to remember how they were saved from the plague that took so many Egyptians during the Exodus. The Christian sacrament reflects Christ’s instruction that they partake of bread and wine to remember him and the deliverance from death he has provided. (Luke 22:19, 20.)

A note, in passing

Incidentally, it may be noteworthy, in passing, that there may have been a very practical purpose for the consumption of the Passover meal. If, as Velikovsky suggests, Earth’s atmosphere was supercharged with elements from the tail of the passing comet Venus, then eating bread without yeast and bitter herbs may have served to offset the debilitating physical effects on the human body of those pollutants. If, as this author suggests, the compounds that turned the water red in Egypt were acidic, causing sickness and death in animals and humans, then the basic, alkaline nature of bitter herbs would serve to chemically offset the elevated levels of acid in the body (acidosis).

Additionally, it is well known that certain types of yeast (Candida albicans, for example) in the gut can release toxins that can severely debilitate the immune system. Other types of yeast produce compounds that can cause humans to hallucinate. In this instance, the instructions to eat bread without yeast (unleavened) may have been designed to help the Israelites better cope physically with the temporarily hostile environment created by the extraterrestrial pollutants — eminently practical advice given through revelation from God to Moses. The idea of food as medicine is one that modern science has recently come to recognize, a philosophy that has been at the heart of herbal use and practices since time immemorial.

Eating is a religious experience?

Such ritual meals as Seder, the Eucharist and the Sacrament are also practiced in most pagan cultures. They range, on one end of the spectrum, from consumption of simple foods to cannibalism on the other extreme.

Most animal sacrifice did not consist of cremation, as most moderns believe. Rather, it was, in most cases, a ritual method of cooking and preparing the animal for eating. Our modern, seemingly innocuous and strictly culinary practice of barbequing actually has its roots in cultural traditions of sacrifice. So remember, next time you throw something on the ‘barbie,’ you are practicing the time-honored, ritualistic tradition of sacrifice with its roots deep in antiquity.

Recidivist Israelites, too, adopted pagan eating rituals. "The children gather wood, and the fathers kindle the fire, and the women knead their dough, to make cakes to the queen of heaven, and to pour out drink offerings unto other gods, that they may provoke me to anger." (Jeremiah 7:18.)

Note the similarity between the elements of this ritual and the Christian sacrament. They consumed bread and drink in honor of the goddess. It was a ritual meal. These backsliding Israelites prepared cakes and drink to honor their pagan gods, just as we take bread and water today. Such similarities are not coincidental. Christ, on the eve of his crucifixion, obviously turned to a well-established, ancient practice in the Hebrew culture as the basis for his new eating ritual, the Sacrament.

Hot cross buns

Just such a ritual meal is connected with the Christian’s celebration of Easter. Hot cross buns are a lesser, but well established part of this holiday that, doubtlessly, have their origins in pagan antiquity. These loaves were originally marked with horns, the crescent symbol for ancient Saturn, or the cross, the cruciform symbol for the Queen of Heaven, Astarte or Venus. The ancient Greeks also consumed these types of buns in their celebrations of Artemis, Goddess of the hunt (known as Diana to the Romans). And the Egyptians ate a similar cake in their worship of the Goddess Isis. Later, Saxons ate buns that were marked with a cross in honor of Eastre (Astarte). These customs of creating a ceremonial bread or loaf, marking it with the symbol of the goddess, then eating it as part of a festival in honor of that same goddess is an echo of the Israelite practice of making cakes to their Queen of Heaven.

Such universal practices beg the question, where did the human race get the idea that eating something was a sacred practice? The idea that eating should be part of religious ritual may have begun in Earth’s ancient heavens when one planet ‘consumed’ other, smaller satellites. In a later monograph, we will discuss more about sacrificial rituals around the world and the events and beliefs that may have inspired the practice.

A Christian or pagan holiday?

Returning to our Easter theme, it seems rather ironic that this ostensibly Christian holiday is burdened with much of the celebration and ceremony that once attached itself to the ancient cults that worshipped astral goddesses.

We discover, for instance, that the very name of the holiday has its roots in idolatry. Easter is a corruption of the name of the goddess who leant her name to the holiday, Aster or Astarte, as the Greeks knew her. Her Syro-Phoenician counterpart was the goddess Ashtoreth. The Babylonians called her Ishtar and the Romans called her Venus. She was also the great mother goddess of the Saxon people in Northern Europe, who knew her as Eastre, from whence we get the name Easter today.

The Saturn connection

Surely these ancient goddesses from a variety of ancient cultures all had their origins in the planet Venus that once stood near the Earth in the Polar Configuration because they all share common attributes, history, and iconography. Talbott wrote:

Wherever you find the Universal Monarch (Saturn) you will find close at hand the ancient mother goddess — the goddess whom the Sumerians called Inanna, the Queen of Heaven, and the Babylonians Ishtar, and the Egyptians Isis, Hathor, and Sekhmet, each with numerous counterparts in their own and in other lands, and virtually all of them viewed symbolically as daughter or spouse of the creator-king, and the mother of another, equally prominent figure.

The Mother Goddess is the planet Venus, the luminous, central orb seen squarely in the center of Saturn and from which radiating streams of material course outward. (Thoth, Vol. 2, No. 8.)

So, we see that the true origins of this most Christian of holidays actually owes its existence to events that transpired in Earth ancient heavens.

The Easter egg

Originally, the egg, now a cultural symbol of Easter, was closely related to the eye symbol — both symbols of this mother goddess, this goddess of fertility anciently. Mythical traditions say that she was born as/or in a celestial egg. Indeed, in the Polar Configuration, Venus’ transformation into the prototypical star — the archetype of all radiant star symbols — began when it took on an ovoid shape, thus forever connecting the goddess with the egg.


It is for this reason that the favored decoration for Easter eggs anciently was a star. Indeed, the very name of this goddess in several cultures, as well as our own, came to mean ‘star.’

Yet, in our culture, stars and the eggs have no discernable relationship. Like so much in mythology, the connection seems absurd to the modern mind. Yet, in ancient myth and tradition they are intimately connected. Only the theory of the Polar Configuration satisfactorily explains their symbolic ligature. Indeed, it not only explains it; it demands it. The star and the egg were two primary aspects or phases in the development of ancient Venus while in the Polar Configuration at the dawn of time.

Dyed eggs, originally colored to match the turquoise color of ancient Venus, were part of the rituals enacted in the Babylonian mystery religions. The variety of colors we see today was a natural, artistic elaboration of the original idea. Such colorfully dyed and decorated eggs were considered sacred because of their symbolic representation of the ancient goddess/planet Venus. They played an integral part of the religious ceremonies in Egypt and the Orient. Dyed eggs were hung in Egyptian temples. The egg was regarded as the emblem of regenerative life proceeding from the mouth of the great Egyptian god Atum because the actual planet Venus so presented itself in the Polar Configuration. Venus (Hathor) was centered on Saturn (Atum), assumed an egg shape that seemed to house the child, Mars (Horus) and then appeared to give birth to Mars.

The Easter rabbit

In addition to the egg symbol, the Norse goddess of fertility, Ostara, whose name was clearly a derivative of Aster or Astarte, was connected to the hare. This connection was a later one, unique to the Norse culture, which probably stems from the well-known fecundity of rabbits.

Three other seemingly disconnected traditions of Easter further connect the holiday to pagan practices and ultimately to the Polar Configuration: the woman’s Easter bonnet and special holiday dress as well as the Easter parade.

Easter bonnets and finery

Festivals that celebrated the ancient star goddess, Venus, were ideal occasions for women, who sought to emulate the goddess, to adorn themselves as the goddess herself. The bonnet worn today is a distant replication of the hat, hair dress or crown worn by the goddess in heaven.


Older, more customary variants of the bonnet draped a veil across the face, also a feature of the ancient sky goddess. LDS temple-goers will recognize the validity of this tradition and its connection to temple ritual and furnishings. The dress, usually white, was designed with symbolic significance relevant to the ancient appearance of Venus and her role as a fertility goddess. Thus, anything that enhanced the gender specific attributes of a woman was employed to demonstrate her procreative role. Indeed, the more elaborate, yet accurate, the duplication of the symbols/appearance — because the symbols of the goddess were representations of what she looked like in Earth’s ancient heavens — the greater the identification of the individual with the mother goddess, imitating her essential aspects. Thus, a practice that had deep religious significance in antiquity has come to be a mere fashion statement today. Such is the dilution of the original concepts and practices over time. Yet, the themes persist in our cultural traditions, outliving, by far, the knowledge and understanding they were meant to convey.

The Easter parade

Parading up and down the streets, carrying an effigy of the god or goddess upon their shoulders, the ancients moved from one strategically sited temple location to another to re-enact the mythical movements of their deity in the heavens anciently. In many cultures — especially the Egyptian — these portable shrines were set in replicas of boats, carried on long, stout poles that could be borne by several carriers. It is the image of the god or goddess, sitting in a celestial boat, that we commonly see in ancient Egyptian art. It is for this reason that we apply the term “float” to our modern version of these icons that move along city streets in modern parades. They were originally boats; so calling them floats is natural.

Additionally, it is the reason the term “ark” was applied to the most sacred object in Judaism, the Ark of the Covenant. It was applied to the conveyance that bore tablets containing the Ten Commandments and other artifacts of the Exodus.
Thus, the Easter parade is a modern counterpart of this ancient practice. Once again, our culture maintains the practices or traditions instigated in Earth’s ancient skies with no concept or grasp of their origins or original meanings.

Christian hypocrisy

Ironically, modern Christians, who seem so determined to avoid any suggestion of paganism or cultism in their religions, who vociferously denounce the paganism of Christmas and Mormons as cultists, have enthusiastically embraced the paganism of Easter.

Latter-day Saints, too, fail to recognize the astral traditions in our culture and religion, yet it should not be so. Joseph Smith and the prophets that succeeded him sought to connect us to our ancient past and the traditions handed down through cultural transmission. Sadly, we Saints discarded our understanding of these things in favor of the Christianized customs and practices of the American culture. Yet, like our Christian cousins, our traditions, our temples and our scriptures are filled with the evidence from the past of their true cosmological nature.

© Anthony E. Larson, 2002

A Cinderella Story

Thanks to the Restoration, Latter-day Saints have the best gospel awareness of any Christian denomination. Revelation given to Joseph Smith and subsequent prophets of this dispensation has provided a solid foundation upon which any Mormon can build a thoroughgoing understanding of Christ’s teachings.

But there is one exception to that rule: prophecy.

It seems that the imagery of prophecy is still, to a great extent, an enigma to us. Visions such as those of John in Revelation, Daniel, Ezekiel and Isaiah — just to name a few — are loaded with symbolism that mystifies us. Even some of Joseph Smith’s prophecies have these same, symbolic features. Sections 88 and 133 of Doctrine and Covenants are a case in point.

The fact that Joseph Smith used imagery consistent with that of the ancient prophets is a powerful verification of his calling as a prophet, but it still seems to do little to help us interpret the mystifying symbolism of prophecy—either ancient or modern.

Many voices, much confusion

Over the years, there has been no shortage of those who claim to have the answers to prophecy. A whole host of books attest to the sad fact that anyone’s guess is as good as another’s.

A survey of the multitude of present offerings suggests that very nearly all of it is guesswork and hunches since none of it actually gives the reader the tools to interpret prophecy. Each interpretation depends on its founder’s preferred or particular approach.

The truth is, anyone can open the scriptures, turn to a prophetic passage and hazard a guess at the meaning of the inspired imagery found there. Warning of this very practice, Peter wrote, “No prophecy of the scripture is of private interpretation.”

Hazarding many guesses

In fact, such guessing is at the heart of the confusion that reigns in Christendom where prophecy is concerned. The would-be interpreters either avoid the most mysterious imagery, or they try to interpret it by turning to speculation.

The basic, underlying supposition of most analysts is as follows: The Old Testament prophets, upon seeing our technologically advanced world in vision, were at a loss for words. Hence, they turned to familiar imagery to describe what they saw in revelations. For example, an atomic bomb became “a pillar of fire and smoke,” or an attack helicopter firing missiles became “locusts” with “stings in their tails.” This perspective is entirely misleading and misguided.

Most damaging is that these expositors’ interpretations take to be literal what was meant to be imagery and metaphor. Contrarily, they also resort to the opposite device, making symbolic what was meant to be literal. Thus, they almost entirely sabotage the original meaning of the prophets’ words.

Keys everywhere, hiding in plain sight

What analysts universally fail to see is that there are numerous hints — ‘keys’ if you will — found in the scriptures, modern revelation and ancient history that all move us closer to understanding prophecy. By letting the prophets speak for themselves, rather than ‘interpreting’ their words, we discover those keys — both ancient and modern.

There are hints everywhere in ancient cultures that the images of prophecy were customary, traditional images, common to all early civilizations. The prophets employed these images to better communicate with the people. Thus, the study of ancient iconography or symbolism, known to cultures the world over, becomes an invaluable interpretive tool in our quest to discern the meaning of prophetic imagery, as this study reveals.

Disparagement of prophecy

At present, little attention is given to prophecy in the church. Any comment on prophecy is made only in passing. Avoidance of the topic seems to be the order of the day. Even though interest in knowing what will befall the world before the Second Coming is nearly universal, Mormons, at the same time, seem loathe to take the subject too seriously.

Prophecy, therefore, can be said to be the gospel’s redheaded stepchild. It’s there, but no one wants to acknowledge it.

Like fabled Cinderella, prophecy is ignored, banished and locked away in an upstairs apartment, out of sight and out of mind, while proper company is entertained in the drawing room. Rarely discussed, its presence in the scriptures seems to be an embarrassment or a forbidden, illegitimate subject to most Saints, territory to be explored only by marginal eccentrics or thoroughgoing apostates. Prophecy is treated as an unholy mutation, a scriptural ogre. A discussion of prophecy is held in the same regard as a root canal or an IRS audit.

However, like Cinderella, who went from being a slave in her own home to become the prince’s bride and royalty, prophecy will one day emerge from the doctrinal dungeon to take its place as a legitimate component of the gospel and the key to understanding all gospel imagery.

Questions

This state of affairs begs a number of questions. If modern revelation was so useful to us in fully explaining the gospel, then why did it fail to explain prophecy for us as well? Given that Mormonism was revealed in its fullness through a prophet of God, why don’t the Saints understand the meaning of prophecy as well as other gospel topics?

Does prophecy serve a useful function in the gospel scheme? Or is it the gospel equivalent of an appendix, a useless appendage given merely to provide a mystery, a topic to be avoided or excised when given the slightest provocation? Is it proper to simply ignore the subject altogether in one’s scriptural study in order to concentrate solely on other aspects of the gospel?

Making sense of it all

Like all Christians, most Latter-day Saints have difficulty making sense of the imagery of prophecy. As a result, they evade considering, studying or discussing it. Indeed, most have the impression that prophecy is a forbidden subject, a mystery to be avoided. Rather than allow prophecy its rightful place in the gospel, many demonstrate a strong bias against it that amounts to spiritual correctness.

Like politically correct speech, which avoids unpleasant terminology, spiritual correctness seeks to redefine the gospel without prophecy and its perplexing symbolism. Of course, such a view is contrary to Christ’s teachings. His counsel concerning equality and charity in his church can be said to also apply to subjects within his gospel. He said:

But now are they many members, yet but one body.

And the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee: nor again the head to the feet, I have not need of you.

Nay, much more those members of the body, which seem to be more feeble, are necessary:

And those members of the body, which we think to be less honorable, upon these we bestow more abundant honor …

… there should be no schism in the body; but that the members should have the same care one for another. (1 Corinthians 12:20-23, 25.)

In like manner, we cannot say to ourselves that prophecy has no place in a gospel study program. It should be considered on an equal footing with the rest of the gospel, not neglected and shunned. Even the Savior addressed the issue of the last days and the events surrounding his second coming, setting the standard for us.

The Cowdery Syndrome

There is one more disturbing aspect to the Saints’ attitudes toward prophecy and gospel study in general. The best way to put it may be to say that today’s Saints suffer from the Cowdery Syndrome.

Recall that while Joseph Smith was translating the Book of Mormon from the gold plates, Oliver Cowdery acted as his primary scribe. In the course of doing so, he became preoccupied with the idea of doing some of the translating as well, and the Lord granted his wish, saying, “And, behold, I grant unto you a gift, if you desire of me, to translate, even as my servant Joseph.” (Doctrine & Covenants 6:25.)

A short time later, another revelation gave Oliver further encouraging instructions and promises. Pay careful attention to the promises made to him on the occasion of this revelation because they seem to be the same as the expectations most Saints have regarding their study of the scriptures and the gospel.

Oliver Cowdery, verily, verily, I say unto you, that assuredly as the Lord liveth, who is your God and your Redeemer, even so surely shall you receive a knowledge of whatsoever things you shall ask in faith, with an honest heart, believing that you shall receive a knowledge concerning the engravings of old records, which are ancient, which contain those parts of my scripture of which has been spoken by the manifestation of my Spirit.

Yea, behold, I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost, which shall come upon you and which shall dwell in your heart ….

… Ask that you may know the mysteries of God, and that you may translate and receive knowledge from all those ancient records which have been hid up, that are sacred; and according to your faith shall it be done unto you. (Doctrine and Covenants 8:1,2, 12.)

Clearly, every Saint anticipates that he or she will be blessed with an improved understanding of the scriptures after reading them and praying to have them made plain. This, of course, would include the prophetic passages. Because of the counsel to “search the scriptures,” we all hope our efforts will be rewarded with greater knowledge, “a knowledge of whatsoever things you shall ask in faith,” that God will do for us what he promised to do for Oliver: “I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost.”

Tragically for Oliver, the outcome was not so pleasant. It appears that the attempt did no go well for him because the Lord soon withdrew his offer, directing that Oliver abandon translation and return to his scribal duties.

We are like him

It is in the Lord’s explanation of Oliver’s failure to translate that we find the error of modern Saints. And this is the key. He explained, “Behold, you have not understood; you have supposed that I would give it unto you, when you took no thought save it was to ask me. But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right ….” (Ibid., 9:7,8, italics added.)

This, then, is the Cowdery Syndrome: Rather than “study it out” to reach conclusions on their own first, the Saints, like Cowdery, expect that the Spirit or the Brethren will simply “give it” to them when they take no thought except to ask. They expect, as did Oliver, that it should come to them with little or no effort on their part — “you have supposed that I would give it unto you, when you took no thought save it was to ask me.”

This attitude and perspective is dominant among Mormons today. Assuming that the Lord has ‘given’ them all the truths they need to know, they believe there is little left to learn about the gospel or the scriptures. They deceive themselves into believing that ideas and concepts not covered in General Conference or the Gospel Doctrine lesson manual are of little or no consequence. In fact, information provided in those venues is actually mere introductory material.

The syndrome’s acute stage

In its most advanced stages, the Saints who suffer from the Cowdery Syndrome react to new ideas with a negative, knee-jerk reaction, whether those concepts conform to gospel ideas or not. Rather than subject such ideas to scrutiny, they reject them out of hand due to their attitude, which is summarized thusly: “It’s all been revealed. Thus we needn’t study to find more or consider anything new. If something unfamiliar comes our way, it must be untrue and therefore should be rejected.” This is the end stage of the Cowdery Syndrome.

But Oliver’s experience should give every Saint pause. If the Lord expected Oliver to first exert some effort on his own to study in order to come up with a solution before he asked if his conclusions were right, then can the Lord expect any less of us in our study? The Saints are expected to get their information in the same way as Cowdery: study first, then ask.

Indeed, we learn from the experience of the Brother of Jared that this is exactly what the Lord expects: We study the problem out to the best of our ability, and then take our best solution to the Lord. If we have done our homework correctly, he will confirm our conclusion by way of the Spirit.

The situations of Oliver Cowdery and the brother of Jared clearly indicate that information gained through study, even from unlikely sources, is a vital first step to enlightenment — confirmation by the Spirit being the second step.

The best evidence that the Saints have failed as miserably as Oliver is found in our inability to understand prophecy. Had we done our homework as we have been directed to do, we would have had our answers long ago. But because we were as unfaithful as Oliver, that knowledge has atrophied and has been withdrawn.

Keys to prophecy

There are many keys to prophecy. They are not all found in the scriptures or the words of modern prophets. Some are found in science and some in comparative mythology.

Singly or separately, they are curiously insightful. Jointly, they make a powerful case for a truly novel method of interpreting prophecy. These keys have been partially explored in this author’s writings. This is the sort of study required to ferret out the least understood parts of the gospel.

Like fitting the pieces into a puzzle, each key adds a little to our understanding of prophecy, making the picture more complete. When all the pieces are in place, they produce a dynamic panorama and a comprehensive explanation of prophetic symbolism. They make prophecy plain and understandable for anyone. Mystery, confusion, contradiction and misunderstanding are forever banished from discussions and studies of the topic. They are indications of our failure, not a reticence to reveal on God’s part nor of a failure in the prophets or our leaders.

Hence, Joseph Smith’s statement, “Revelation is one of the plainest books God ever cause to be written.”

It is the goal of this author to carefully search out and examine each of these clues as we unravel the mysteries of prophecy. It is only by study of “the best books” that we can then expect to have our questions answered.

But what is even more exciting and enlightening is that this quest has allowed us to better understand all the ancient imagery found in the Bible and even in modern revelation.

It explains otherwise enigmatic statements and projects by Joseph Smith and other modern prophets since his time that have been neglected or dismissed by many LDS scholars because of their seeming irrelevance or lack of substantiation.

Still more remarkable is the discovery that this analysis reveals uncommon knowledge about temples ancient and modern — from the icons that adorn their exteriors and interiors to their very purpose and meaning.

It also explains Joseph Smith’s interest in things Egyptian and the revelations, such as the book of Abraham, which came from that study.

So, as it turns out, this effort is fundamentally about understanding the gospel itself rather than just the narrow confines of prophecy. Indeed, this study has led us to understand more clearly even the first principles and ordinances of the gospel, the very foundations of our faith. Only a study of correct principles could have such sweeping and profound implications and ramifications.

This really is a Cinderella story.

© Anthony E. Larson, 2005

The Last Lecture (a speech outline)

Years ago at BYU, a new lecture series was instigated. Called the “Last Lecture,” it was formatted to give the lecturer the opportunity to speak as though it were the last address he or she would give before dying — a sort of gospel last will and testament, if you will.

That’s what I would like to do today. If I knew I was going to be called home tomorrow, this is what I would want to say to you right now.

Over the last 40 years or so, I have dedicated my spare time — outside raising a family and earning a living — to an in-depth study of the restored gospel. That study resulted in a distinctive view, one that prompted me to become an author and lecturer — roles I had never previously contemplated in my wildest fantasies.

In so doing, I found myself breathing rather rarified air: None of my fellow Saints seemed aware of the information I had ferret out and then sought to share with them. In fact, it became apparent early on that most church members regarded my views with the same hesitation and scorn that they reserved for reports of UFO sightings, vanishings in the Bermuda Triangle and chance encounters with Big Foot or Yeti in remote regions of the world. They almost entirely discounted what I sought to teach, and they regarded me as nothing more than a purveyor of “odd knowledge” having little to do with their understanding of the gospel or the real world.

Yet my research told me that what I discovered was identical to some of Joseph Smith's more obscure teachings, concepts that have been largely marginalized in the church today. It became readily apparent from my discoveries that early church members were well aware of Joseph's inclination toward cosmology, the story of the ancient heavens and the symbols and metaphors they spawned in ancient cultures and religion.

As time went on and my research progressed, this conceptual and perceptual gap widened. I discovered whole areas of thought and information of which most members were seemingly totally unaware. It was apparent that this traditional symbolism touched on more than simply prophetic imagery; it had sweeping implications for every aspect of the gospel, including temple iconography and ritual — perhaps one of the least understood facets of the Restoration.

And this puzzled me as much as it perplexed others with whom I attempted to share my newfound knowledge. Rather than encountering an enthusiastic response, which I expected from church members, to my surprise I found resistance, denial, indifference and apathy in most and outright antagonism in some. "Why?" I asked myself. "What is there about this information that elicits such negative reactions among my fellow Mormons?" I thought they would embrace these ideas with the same enthusiasm and excitement that I did. Not so. I was naïve.

At first, these reactions caused me to question my own conclusions. How could it be that everyone else had missed this information? Logic and reason suggested that I had probably shimmied out on a faux limb; otherwise, most members would already know these things. After all, we all belong to the one, true church, guided by inspired men. How could it be that with revelation in the church there would be gaps in our gospel knowledge? It just didn’t seem logical or possible.

Nevertheless, the evidence continued to mount as my research progressed. Thanks to a quiet revolution in the natural sciences, this information was notoriously obvious and readily available. There could be no doubt about the validity of the concepts I was learning.

Ere long, my research uncovered the indisputable fact that these ideas had been taught in the early days of the church by general authorities. Most reported that they had learned these concepts from the horse’s mouth: the prophet Joseph Smith himself.

So, I was confronted with a dilemma. On the one hand, the modern church, with leaders who I knew to be inspired, seemed to know little or nothing of the things I had discovered. On the other, the evidence was overwhelming that the concepts were correct and had been taught early on in the Restoration. How, I wondered, could this seeming dichotomy be resolved? What had apparently blinded the majority of church members to such information?

The answer was actually quite simple, but not easy to see and sometimes difficult to acknowledge. It was we, the Saints, each of us individually, who had dropped the ball.

It’s not that I had discovered something heretofore unknown; I had simply discovered for myself something that every Latter-day Saint should also have learned in the course of a thoroughgoing study of the Restored Gospel. I was unique only in that I had followed that distinct trail of evidentiary breadcrumbs through the informational forest. I had gone without reservation where others declined or feared to tread.

They had elected to ignore those bits as irrelevant or misleading. I saw them as gems of wisdom and knowledge, invaluable to a thoroughgoing understanding of the Restore Gospel.

Let me demonstrate the indifference or apathy of the Saints for you. For example, how many of you have taken the opportunity to read through the Bible dictionary in your scriptures? (Hold up the scriptures.) There is a wealth of information there. Even though it’s only just about 200 pages long, most Saints have never taken the time to study those few pages. Or, what about Joseph Smith’s own diary, History of the Church? How many of us have read his views firsthand? I will state this categorically: No truly earnest member can claim they understand their founding prophet if they have not read his own statements on a myriad of issues, spiritual and secular. It’s a virtual treasure trove of gospel information. Yet, most members don’t even know it exists.

Some may say that they can’t be expected to do all that reading, that they can depend on the leaders and teachers to sort out that information and pass along the important bits. My rejoinder is to ask, How long have you been a member? Five years? Ten years? Most of your adult life? How is that not enough time to do a little reading?

Most of us have read untold volumes in our lifetime: newspapers, magazines, manuals, books, etc. Yet, we’ve not found time to fully study the gospel, our virtual passbook to salvation and exaltation. Instead, like recalcitrant children, most of us balk at true study. Instead, we depend upon the general authorities and others to spoon-feed us.

And therein lies the flaw in our logic.

What the brethren have concentrated on, as the Lord charged them to do, are the basics: the first principles and ordinances of the gospel. It’s missionary work, pure and simple -- all well designed, carefully orchestrated and calculated to reach out to nonmembers and new members alike, to get them solidly based in fundamental principles. What we hear in general conference talks and in church each Sunday is meant to support one mission and one mission only: convert nonmembers and get the new converts moving along the right path, in the right direction.

The rest of the information is our responsibility, again, by divine design. And that's where the majority of the Restored Gospel resides, outside church manuals and classes. It's there, waiting for us to search it out.

Yet, most of us are stuck in that early growth stage in our gospel progression. True, we fulfill our callings and even comply with church standards sufficient to go to the temple for the higher ordinance work. Yet, we do so largely without understanding what we see and experience there and in our reading of the scriptures as well.

Due to our almost complete failure to truly study the “fullness” of the gospel, we struggle with huge information gaps. Those are evidenced by our gospel blind spots: the imagery of ancient wisdom used in the metaphors of prophecy, the symbolism of our temples and the language of the prophets.

The notion that we can ‘read’ the temple, just as we do the scriptures, eludes us. It should be largely an instructive experience, at least as much so as a spiritual experience. But we come away from the endowment puzzled by its meaning and significance. The covenants are self explanatory. But the ritual, the majority of what is done in a temple session, is mere mimicry and mummery to us. It teaches us nothing. We leave as clueless as we entered, hoping someday to perhaps grasp its purpose and meaning.

Even for those among us who attend the temple regularly or work therein, the teachings and meaning in its ordinances, rites and rituals as well as the icons in its architecture are a mystery to us, invisible and unacknowledged.

So, too, with the symbolism of the scriptures. We all know, for example, that the phrase used therein “the mountain of the Lord’s house” refers to the temple. But, we have no clue about the origins of such an odd metaphor. How is a temple equated to a mountain? We don’t even exhibit so much as a little curiosity about such symbolism, taking it entirely for granted.

This, too, is the case with prophecy. Littered with seemingly bizarre imagery, it appears far too confusing and unfathomable for the average member. So, we dismiss it as unimportant or too mysterious for anyone but the most inspired of prophets to interpret.

We suppose that if it were truly vital to our personal repository of gospel knowledge, our church leaders would have repeatedly explained it in minute detail, just as they do fundamental gospel elements. We suppose that merely listening and reading a bit, coupled with sincere, prayerful supplication for answers, will yield all we need to know.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

This is key: The Spirit is not a teacher. He only confirms and comforts. This has been explained to us over and over. You must learn a thing first by research and study before the Spirit can confirm the truth of it to you.

We suffer from what I call the Oliver Cowdery syndrome: We think that truth will be given us without any effort on our part. Read about Elder Cowdery’s dilemma in Doctrine and Covenants, Sections 8 and 9.

Think about it. How did you come by your testimony? It was necessary that you first inform yourself about the gospel before praying about it. Reading the Book of Mormon came before praying about it to get a confirmation of its truth from the Spirit. Likewise, Joseph Smith had to study the Bible to come across the notion that God would answer his questions for him before he could be given that first vision.

That’s the way it works: study first, ask second.

But, casual reading does not qualify as study. Study means work. It takes real effort on your part and true inquisitiveness to formulate a focused concept that is sufficiently well developed to pray about. And surprisingly, as often as not, the Spirit reveals the truth of what you’re studying or formulating before you ever get the chance to ask. He’s that anxious to lead you forward.

So, in summary, let me say that what I have learned is not peripheral to one’s gospel knowledge and understanding. It is essential. (Hold up the stunt Bible.) Without it, we may as well tear our scriptures in half and throw one of the two halves away. (Tear the binding right down the middle and toss half of it on the floor.)

We may as well listen to the gospel message half asleep. We are missing that much ... and more! We set at naught the efforts of the prophets to enlighten us, and we disparage the fullness of the Restored Gospel. What a sad state of affairs.

So as I noted at the outset of this talk, this would be my last lecture, sermon or counsel to you: Study! (lengthy pause) Study! (spoken even louder) Study! (louder still). Look closely, and you will learn what I’ve learned. I am not the keeper and purveyor of odd knowledge and irrelevant information you may have taken me to be. I’ve only found and followed the trail of breadcrumbs left there for us by men of God. I’ve diligently tracked it where it was intended to lead those who exercise due diligence.

I’ve documented my concepts in the statements of early church leaders from Joseph Smith on forward, and I’ve successfully and enlighteningly employed these concepts to make sense of temple symbolism and prophecy. It’s no mystery. There’s no magic. But like the obvious nose on your face, it’s nearly invisible to you.

Only through concerted effort and diligence will this wisdom become apparent to you. And no one else can or will do it for you — not your home teacher, not your bishop not your stake president … not even the prophet. It’s not the responsibility of the brethren to explain every nuanced detail of the gospel to you. That’s your job; get after it. As President Kimball was fond of saying, “Do it … now!”

© Anthony E. Larson, 2007

The Keys to Prophecy 12: The Gospel Litmus Test

A chemist can determine the pH of any substance by dipping a bit of colored paper into it. Called "litmus" paper, its color changes depending upon the acidity or alkalinity of the compound in question — one color if it is acidic, another if it is basic. It’s a fundamental and uncomplicated test.

There is a similar such test to determine the extent of our gospel comprehension, to determine how well we study and comprehend the scriptures.

It’s called prophecy.

Most Latter-day Saints are likely to dismiss such a notion out of hand, since they consider prophecy to be a rather esoteric and narrow part of the gospel and thus the least likely candidate for such a gauge or standard. After all, prophetic symbolism seems to have little to do with the day-to-day, practical application of our religion.

So, how can one possibly construe prophecy to be a test for anything, much less the depth of our gospel understanding?

It is precisely because the colorful and peculiar imagery of prophecy permeates all of scripture, not just prophetic visions. It is the symbol and imagery-laden language of the prophets.

The beasts seen in Ezekiel’s and Daniel’s visions as well as those seen by John in Revelation are the same beasts that are seen on Joseph Smith’s facsimiles and those described in Abraham in the Pearl of Great Price.

The 'miracles' of the Exodus are the same as the 'signs' in Revelation, and they corroborate and illuminate Joseph Smith’s statements about the nature of latter-day signs in his journal, History of the Church.

The planets, stars and other enigmatic symbols that adorn our latter-day temples are also found in our sacred texts, and the explicitly symbolic nature of the rituals and fixtures found within those hallowed walls point us to the lofty value that latter-day prophets placed on that imagery, however obscure it may seem to us.

Perhaps more telling is the fact that after the heavens were effectively sealed for centuries, of all the choice scripture that the angel Moroni could have chosen to quote to the young Joseph Smith when he first appeared to him in 1823, he quoted prophecy — Malachi, Isaiah, and Joel. Its message is that important.

Prophecy is at the heart of our religion, though we seem reluctant to acknowledge that truth. The gospel was restored and the church was subsequently founded on the notion of Adventism, the doctrine that the second coming of Christ, in the wake of a worldwide destruction called the apocalypse, is near at hand.

Instead, we almost universally focus on the spiritual message of the scriptures, disregarding the imagery as mere poetic affectation. In doing so, we overlook fully half of the information in the scriptures. Like the proverbial forest in the trees, it is virtually invisible to us.

As a result, our gospel comprehension suffers. We cannot make sense of the bizarre imagery of prophecy. We also fail to see much of what the sacred texts were meant to convey. We go through temple sessions without grasping the profound enormity of the message that the imagery we see there represents. When we look at Joseph Smith’s facsimiles, we see them only as oddities and curiosities that once entertained the passing interest of a prophet rather than the very keys to gospel comprehension.

In making all these omissions, we dismiss as inconsequential the message God and his prophets have carefully placed before us. We dismiss a vital part of the gospel of Jesus Christ as mere decorative glitter.

If the spiritual message of salvation is the gospel’s heart and soul, then the imagery and symbolism are its bone and sinew. That’s why it’s found everywhere in the restored church, from the scriptures, to the temples, to the discourses of modern prophets.

This is our litmus test: To the extent to which we do or do not understand the imagery of prophecy, we also fail to understand the rest of scriptural imagery.

Our casual acquaintance with our own gospel betrays a lack of study and dedication to its comprehension. We do not "search the scriptures," as we’ve been counseled to do. We skim through them. We read, but without comprehension.

Hence, we get repeated pleas from the brethren to read our scriptures — the most recent: Read the Book of Mormon.

Thus, our comprehension of prophecy is a clear indication of our overall gospel understanding. This being the case, most of us fail the gospel litmus test, since for most Latter-day Saints prophecy is a mystery, wrapped in a conundrum, couched in an enigma.

© Anthony E. Larson, 2005

Lehi's Tree of Life

The colorful symbolism of the "Tree of Life" vision given to Lehi and his son, Nephi, is well known and rather easily interpreted by today’s Latter-day Saints.

At first blush, the rich imagery these two Book of Mormon prophets employed combines to create a completely original metaphor for humanity’s behavior where the gospel of Jesus Christ is concerned. That is, it is a wonderful allegory, which epitomizes the various reactions and behaviors of mankind in connection with revealed truth.

While all this is correct and proper, there may be more traditional elements within Lehi’s and Nephi’s revelation that would have been quite familiar to their contemporaries in the Middle East. They employed cultural archetypes — already ancient in Lehi’s and Nephi’s day — that we modern Saints fail to recognize because they are entirely absent from our cultural traditions.

Yet mythologists, who study the beliefs and traditions of the past, are keenly aware of the sacred or celestial tree as a predominant motif in ancient cultures. "Sacred narratives everywhere describe a previous World Age in which a colossal tree dominated the celestial landscape, joining heaven to earth." (M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion (New York, 1958), pp. 265-326.)

Among thousands of others, a few examples are "… the Norse mima-meither or the Tree of the golden apples of immortality guarded by the goddess Idunn, or to the similar apple tree of the garden of the Hesperides. There is the world-ash Yggdrasil, the greatest and best of all trees, whose branches spread all over heaven … It was the Tree of Life, and the judgment-seat of the gods, whose chief abode and sanctuary is at the Ash Ygg's stead (or standing place) where they hold their court every day. … It is white, like the Avestan haoma, although the whiteness must rather mean brightness, as Grimm pointed out. It is a near relation of the Innensaiile, that highest universe-column sustaining all things, universalis columna quasi sustinens omnia, which is so deeply rooted an idea in German antiquity.” (John O’Neill, The Night of the Gods, I-II, London, 1893, italics added).

"Eminent archaeologists are quite familiar with the fact that almost every race and tongue alludes to a tree now universally called the "world-tree". Were I to gather half the literature that I have found pertaining to this tree of trees, "holy trees," "life-giving trees", "winged" and "flying" trees, "trees of wisdom and knowledge", and "trees of death", it would of itself fill a volume. There was the "winged oak of Jove", known among the ancients as a miraculous tree, and Jove was the sky-god of Greece and Rome, and we must therefore put this tree in the skies. There was the star-bearing tree of the Hesperian Gardens, guarded by the world-serpent Ladon, the Soma Tree of the ancient Hindus and Parsees gave long life to gods and men, and was also a celestial tree. The Assyrio-Babylonian tree spread its shining branches over the whole heaven, and this tree was guarded by the "serpent-god of the tree of life". Then the Scandinavians had a world-tree called the "Sacred Ash" and Yggdrasil, and they said its roots penetrated to the under-world and its branches spread all over the skies. The ancient scriptures of the Hindus speak of the heavens as a tree. The far eastern races, as well as the far western, say that in the most ancient times "trees spread their supporting branches against the heavens and held the sky and earth asunder." These are all immortal survivals of the one great world-tree that stood on the bounds of the earth and ramified upward as vapor stems, and beautified the universal skies." (Isaac Vail, Eden’s Flaming Sword, 1896.)

"The tree of life is a well-known concept in the ancient cultures. An increasing number of scholars now concede that the mythical tree was essentially a symbol of the cosmic axis, the column that links the rotational poles of the earth to the poles of heaven as they appear from any place on earth." (Rens van der Sluijs, The Vortical Tree.)

Literally thousands of myths describe the world axis as a prodigious fiery or golden tree, rooted in the deepest underworld underneath the surface of the earth, whose crown touched the zenith or the pole star. This tree or world axis was a golden mountain in the centre of the world, the summit of which reached until the highest heavens. Some saw this tree as the body of a gargantuan god, the cosmic giant Atlas, whose feet rest on the earth and whose shoulders support the firmament. An endless array of metaphors – tree of life, cosmic mountain, world giant, and many others – refer to one and the same awe-inspiring object: the axis in the centre of the world.

The striking similarity between these traditional trees and Lehi’s tree is undeniable. Clearly, Lehi and Nephi drew upon symbolism familiar to all Middle Eastern peoples to interpret their revelation, in keeping with the reality that they were speaking to people for whom these archetypes and motifs were very familiar. What Nephi wrote about himself was also true for all those in Lehi’s company: "… for I came out from Jerusalem, and mine eyes hath beheld the things of the Jews, and I know that the Jews do understand the things of the prophets, … wherefore I know concerning the regions round about …" (2 Nephi 25: 5, 6.)

We, today, know almost nothing of these ancient archetypes or iconic metaphors familiar to "the regions round about" Jerusalem because our culture discarded them centuries ago as colorful and elaborate but inconsequential myth or satanically pagan imagery, unworthy of the lofty spiritual values and thinking taught by the Son of God in the meridian of time.

Had it not been for one or two references to the Tree of Life scattered about in our sacred texts, that element of this vision would have been as unfamiliar to us as the others. For example, the Tree of Life symbol is first employed in the beginning of the biblical Creation account, where it was said to have stood in Eden, "in the midst of the garden." Eating its fruit imparted the knowledge of "good and evil" to Adam and Eve.

Ironically, it was employed in the end of the biblical account, in John’s Revelation. "And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. … In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations." (Revelation 22: 1, 2.)

The imagery in these verses is unmistakable: There exists no such tree in reality. What tree can be both “in the midst of the street of it” and “on either side of the river” at the same time? It is imagery—a metaphor—just as is the tree in Eden. This tree is clearly an icon or symbol.

Notice that John brings other elements into the picture that have counterparts in Lehi’s dream: A river and a street. We see those equivalents in Lehi’s dream. "… I beheld a river of water; and it ran long, and it was near the tree of which I was partaking the fruit. … And I also beheld a strait and narrow path …." (1 Nephi 8: 13, 20.)

These verses from Genesis and Revelation are clearly examples of what Nephi meant when he wrote: "... and there is none other people that understand the things which were spoken unto the Jews like unto them, save it be that they are taught after the manner of the things of the Jews." (2 Nephi 25: 5.)

Compare these with the tree motifs of other cultures. A dispassionate and considered analysis will demonstrate that they all draw upon a common cultural heritage.

One marvels that a young man, living on the American frontier nearly 200 years ago, published a story that is faithful in every way to these ancient cultural traditions. This convergence of iconic motifs from antiquity with those from the Book of Mormon is yet another powerful witness to Joseph Smith’s claim of prophetic inspiration.

© Anthony E. Larson, 2008

Children of the Light?

Latter-day Saints' opinion on the subject of potential planetary near impacts, past and present, differs little from that of the general public. Sadly, most Mormons seem as indifferent to this concept as their secular and sectarian contemporaries. Yet, it probably should not be so.

Joseph Smith clearly held a catastrophist view of history and prophecy that included disasters originating in the heavens, which would have had devastating effects here on Earth. Speaking of the Second Coming, he said, "It is not the design of the Almighty to come upon the Earth and crush it and grind it to powder . . . ." (History of the Church, 5:337.) These words are not those of a gradualist or uniformitarian. They bespeak a catastrophist point of view. It is well established by this author that Joseph Smith's teachings on past and future events are patently catastrophist. (See The Prophecy Trilogy, Vol. 3, Ch. 1.) Given that fact, why are so many Latter-day Saints loath to accept this interpretation of history and prophecy? For the answer to that question, we will have to examine history.

Abandoning our roots

The restoration of the gospel began at the same time as a revolution in geology and biology. Popular opinion in Joseph Smith's day held that the Creation and Noah's Flood had largely shaped the world. Today they would be called creationists. Geologists like Hutton and Lyell disputed that view, noting that a rational interpretation of the geologic record argued for a very old planet altered only by slow processes over eons of time. They were gradualists.

In Joseph Smith's day, the gradualists were a minority, but by the latter half of the 19th century, the scientific and academic communities had spurned creationism and catastrophism to embrace gradualism completely. The general public was somewhat slower to shift opinion. Still, by the turn of the century, gradualism dominated the thought of the general public since it was, by that time, the only way the subject was taught in almost all academic settings.

Mormons in flux

This ideological shift presented a problem to Mormons who were in the process of trying to integrate with the larger American culture. Historically, the church and the government had been at odds, as any student of early church history knows. The Saints' exodus to the Great Salt Lake Valley originally put them outside the confines of the United States. However, they eventually found themselves once again within its boarders due to the westward expansion of the nation. This left the Saints with a difficult decision: move yet again, just as they had left Jackson County and then Nauvoo, leaving behind another city and temple erected from raw land, or accommodate the laws and cultural standards of the United States so they could keep their new desert home. The decision to remain and conform prevailed, and the Saints undertook the daunting task—-as history records that painful adversarial process—-of qualifying for statehood and citizenship.

To diminish tension and facilitate the process, Mormons sought to emphasize cultural similarities with the rest of America and suppress dissimilarities in hopes of reducing the antagonism of earlier days. This, they trusted, would help avoid further confrontations—-like the Johnston's Army incident, for example—-and ease tensions so that the church could finally put down permanent roots and better carry out its revealed mandate to preach the gospel.

Like the larger American population, the Mormons eventually embraced gradualism and for much the same reasons. Even though the position of the Prophet and early church members had been catastrophist, Mormons eventually found the idea of gradualism irresistible.

As a result, a new generation of Mormons did not entirely share their forefathers’ worldview because of the pressures from the greater society around them to conform to the common precepts taught by almost all educational institutions, including gradualism.

This ideological reversal on the Saints' part produced the desired effect. It opened doors to Mormons in American society that had formerly been closed, allowing them to pursue careers in politics, science and education; some eventually even attained tenure in prestigious institutions. There was now one less difference between Mormons and their American contemporaries.

A split personality

Yet, all this progress came at a price. The Saints' ideological shift to gradualism created an intellectual dichotomy in the 20th century. Their scriptures—-especially those new revelations that came with the restoration—-tell of a catastrophic Earth history. They also proclaim, emphatically and dramatically, a catastrophic future. Yet, the cultural beliefs Mormons had adopted to "fit in" with the rest of the Americans precluded such notions, categorically denying any such possibility.
This produced an intellectual dichotomy in the Saints’ worldview, creating a spiritual and academic scotoma that has only grown larger in the many years since.

This resulted in church members shifting ideological gears on a consistent basis. In a religious setting, they read and mouthed an ideology with catastrophist underpinnings; in a secular setting, such as the public and private educational system, they espoused the opposite ideology of gradualism. This has endured, strangely, to the present. It has become institutionalized, resulting in a sort of intellectual and religious schizophrenia.

In addition, there may have been one other, even more profound loss: Mormons no longer understood their scriptures as they were meant to be understood. While Joseph Smith's interpretation of prophecy and history may not seem essential to our salvation, it performs a vital function in our interpretation of revealed knowledge. Revelation regarding past or future events comes from a perspective that acknowledges the role of planetary catastrophes in Earth's past, present and future. The language of the prophets is steeped in it. So, if our paradigm does not include this perspective, we have no frame of reference with which to completely understand the revelation.

This is what the Apostle Peter meant when he wrote, "Knowing this first, that no prophecy of the scripture is of any private interpretation. For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man: but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." (2 Peter 1:20,21.) If the parties involved in any exchange do not share a common understanding—if one is a gradualist and the other a catastrophist—there will be a fundamental misunderstanding in the exchange of information. They do not share a common view, background or experience. Therefore, they do not interpret the data, information or truths, in the same way. Hence, there can be no "private interpretation" of the scriptures or prophecy. Both parties must have the same frame of reference. The fallible "will of man," or opinion of man, will only lead to misunderstanding.

To correctly understand the scriptures, prophecy or revelation itself, one must have the same frame of reference as the text itself, which is catastrophist. Thus, it may be that this paradigm shift in the last century left Mormons incapable of properly interpreting what had been given them by revelation regarding historic and prophetic events.

A systematic method of interpretation

The systematic method for interpreting historic and prophetic events, given us by Joseph Smith, is based on symbolism. (See The Prophecy Trilogy, Vol. 1, Ch. 3, for a list of such metaphors and their origins.) This puts the prophet squarely in the center of ancient prophetic tradition. In both the revelations he communicated to us and in the sermons he gave, Joseph used these symbols correctly and consistently.

For example, history speaks of water turning to blood, of stars falling from the heavens, of migrating seas and oceans. Knowing what has occurred in the past to give birth to such descriptive metaphorical phrases, one can determine what is meant by the same metaphor in another context—-prophecy, for example. That knowledge allows a consistent system of interpretation, rather than the extravagant guesswork and speculation engaged in by most scriptural exegetes. It also acknowledges a celestial origin for most religious iconography, ritual and metaphor.

The two faces of symbolism

Such symbolism has two aspects or facets: one literal, the other metaphorical. The literal aspect in the water-turned-to-blood example refers to a time in the past when Earth's waters were polluted by exogenous, ferriferous dust. Its use in prophecy refers to a repeat of this phenomenon. Its metaphorical aspect is simply a rhetorical, poetic representation of a physical event or phenomenon. The water does not turn into anything, much less blood. Such is the nature of all metaphor.

This aspect is also a reflection of the ancient mind that turned to dramatic imagery in order to describe the inexplicable. This does not imply that the ancients were somehow less intelligent, that they could not discern the reality in what they saw. Indeed, some—-Plato, for example, or Mormon—-clearly grasped the true nature of catastrophic events and so described them. (See Helaman 12: 8-17.) However, the extraordinary nature of the events ensured that most of the time they would be characterized in symbolic terms, as opposed to analytical terms. The colorful nature of metaphor is always more dramatic and appealing than cold, dispassionate analysis. In any case, the imagery of past catastrophes captured the imagination of the masses, leading to its widespread adoption and use.

The past is the key

It is vital that one have a firm grasp of the events and conditions in antiquity that produced gospel symbolism. The Lord alluded to that fact when he revealed that ". . . truth is knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come." (Doctrine & Covenants 93:24.) The intimate relationship between past, present and future events implied here must be recognized in order to correctly understand the truth when it is presented. This tripartite concept (past = present = future) is often repeated in the scriptures, especially in prophecy.

Undoubtedly, one of the functions of the School of the Prophets, if not the primary function, was educating the brethren in the many prophetic metaphors and symbols employed anciently, their variations, elaborations, their proper application and interpretation. By teaching the systematic interpretation of scriptural metaphors, religious rituals and iconography, the prophet ensured that the priesthood brethren understood their proper use and interpretation. They could interpret this symbolism wherever they came across it and not be misled by doctrinal distortions.

Equipped with this knowledge, any Latter-day Saint can also see that temple and religious iconography is the physical counterpart to rhetorical metaphor. That is to say, the metaphor reflects the meaning of the icon and the icon reflects the meaning of the metaphor. Those things depicted in religious art, architecture, rite and ritual, can also be found in religious rhetoric.

Knowledge: a key to discernment

Indeed, this is one of the keys used to discern a false prophet in a day and age when the meaning of these symbols and metaphors is largely unknown. Because a false prophet is not schooled in the knowledge of these things, he or she lacks the ability to properly use and interpret such symbolism and metaphor. Thus, the pretender's "revelations" and teachings lack these elements. They fail to properly employ the time-honored literary devices known to all true prophets because they are ignorant of the iconography of antiquity. Hence, they interpret prophecy no differently than any run-of-the-mill evangelical exegete.

For much the same reason, the apostate who has turned against the true religion can be a threat. Once intimately schooled in this knowledge of symbolism, the perpetrator has the power to do tremendous damage because he or she can deceive even the "elect," or those who know these symbols and their proper use.

This, too, is an excellent test for a true prophet: He will employ this symbolism properly and in a manner consistent with ancient tradition. While only the whisperings of the Spirit can completely confirm a prophet's claim to revelation, this is additional, intellectual confirmation, if you will. A true prophet will easily and correctly employ traditional, scriptural symbolism in his teachings, and that symbolism will certainly be present in all revelation he passes along to the Saints. In this respect, as in every other, Joseph Smith passed the test successfully.

Left to their own devices

Once the Saints had abandoned Joseph Smith's symbolism-based interpretation of scripture and prophecy, a vacuum appeared in their theology. They no longer had a yardstick or touchstone for interpreting most gospel symbolism. Since nature abhors a vacuum, a ready replacement was soon found in the eschatological thinking of sectarian Christianity. Mormonism, therefore, has largely adopted the prophetic interpretation of sectarian Evangelism, epitomized today by the writings of Hal Lindsay in his book, The Late, Great Planet Earth, or the teachings of Herbert W. Armstrong, a popular millennialist and radio evangelist of the 1950s, in his radio program, "The World Tomorrow." One can see evidence of this when comparing the views of the aforementioned evangelists with those of recent Mormon writers Cleon Skousen and Dwane Crowther. As one aphorism has it, "There ain't a dimes bit of difference between 'em."

Hence, we find Mormons generally interpreting prophetic utterances, ancient and modern, in remarkably similar ways to their evangelical, Christian cousins: metaphor is made literal and symbol is made modern. This leads to gross distortions in the interpretation of prophecy. For example, consider the unfounded interpretation of the year 2000 as the date for the second coming or the obsession with the number 666. It also leads to the creation of fictitious characters such as the Antichrist and fictitious events such as the Rapture. It seems apparent to this author that we may have allowed harmful sectarian notions to find their way into our catechism, just as Elder McConkie repeatedly warned before his death.

Time to reevaluate

Given all the recent discoveries coming out of the sciences regarding impacts and the prophetic warnings that repeatedly forewarn us of spectacular celestial events before the Second Coming, would it not be prudent for Latter-day Saints to reexamine our views? Would it not be wise for us to acknowledge, as modern science already has, that such things may happen? Should we not want to return to our roots in catastrophism, given us by Joseph Smith? If it was once our desire to conform to a trend that led us to abandon our catastrophist base, then why not conform to the newest trend of science, neocatastrophism, in order to return to our former beliefs?

Signs, ancient and modern, in the heavens

When we consider the magnitude and import of seeing the Shoemaker/Levi comet impact giant Jupiter in our own time, one wonders if this astronomical visual aid might not have been God's way of making a point. Was it done merely to amaze or amuse us? Was it done to keep the astronomers, scientists and scholars busy? Or was it, indeed, a sign, meant to awaken us from our apathetic complacency about the times we live in and the planet we live on? Should not Latter-day Saints be the first to recognize this?

The Nephites were given a sign of the Savior's birth. “. . . for behold, at the going down of the sun there was no darkness; . . . . And it came to pass that there was no darkness in all that night, but it was as light as though it was mid-day. And it came to pass that the sun did rise in the morning again, according to its proper order; and they knew that it was the day that the Lord should be born, because of the sign which had been given. . . .

“And it came to pass also that a new star did appear, according to the word.” (3 Nephi 1:15, 19,21.)

Thus, we see that God used the heavens, a celestial canvas, upon which to paint the sign of his Son's advent.

Recent history has given us a rather remarkable sign of our own. “On July 16, 1994, the first fragment of Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 entered Jupiter's stratosphere traveling at the speed of 60 kilometers per second—-that's about 134,000 miles per hour. Seconds later it exploded. A plume of shock-heated cometary material mixed with hot gases from Jupiter's atmosphere soared more than two thousand miles above the tops of Jupiter's clouds. As material from the plume fell back into the stratosphere of Jupiter, it left a large, crescent-shaped dark spot partly surrounding a smaller intense dark cloud that formed along the entry path of the comet.

“Two days later, Fragment G hit Jupiter with such force that its plume was, in some wavelengths of observation, fifty times brighter than the entire planet. By the end of impact week, Jupiter was bruised with the markings of 21 impacts, dark scars larger than Earth. Not in the 400-year history of the telescope has any planet displayed such dramatic new features. Nine months after the impact ended, Jupiter's southern hemisphere was graced with a belt of dark material, still easily visible through small telescopes.

“We are only now beginning to grasp the magnitude of what has happened.” (Cosmic Collisions, pp. 6, 7, from the foreword by David H. Levy and Carolyn & Eugene Shoemaker.)

Was the impact of a comet with Jupiter in our time any less of a sign than that given to the Nephites? The intent of that sign was to verify that, as Samuel the Lamanite had prophesied, the Son of God had been born. Could it be that the Shoemaker/Levi event was a demonstration to a disbelieving world—-Mormons in particular—-that such things can happen—-indeed, will happen—-to us?

Certainly, it was a verification of assertions by this author, the scriptures, the prophets and a multitude of modern catastrophists that such things do happen; that we live in an uncertain solar system that has seen numerous cosmic disasters in historic times; that old assumptions about a steady-state Earth wherein ". . . all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation . . ." (2 Peter 3:5.) are flawed; that we have been "willingly ignorant" in this enlightened, modern age, of the truths that the ancients sought to preserve in ritual and stone; that ". . . the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished: But the heavens and the Earth, which are now . . . are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment . . . ." (Ibid. 3:5, 6.)

As Latter-day Saints who have been given the restored gospel, we have a greater obligation to recognize and receive these things than does the rest of the world. Are we not designated as the “children of the light?”

© Anthony E. Larson, 2003