1 Nephi 22

Whew. I’ll never write so well. But I understood it, which my older brothers didn’t. After I read these chapters to them, they asked me what they were about: spiritual things or mundane things? And how on earth were we supposed to construe them—by intellect or by spirit?

I told them that God’s spirit spoke his words to Isaiah and one couldn’t understand them without the same spirit. As to what they’re about, simple: both spirit and flesh. God will scatter Israel around the world, run them out of the ease of their comfy home base. Jerusalem: forget about it. Most of the ten tribes of Israel might now be stranded on some island for all we know. But this is basically the result of their stuck-up attitude toward their Maker. Only the Gentiles will have the calmness to take over where God has thrown up his hands. The “carrying on their shoulders” part is not literal, I suppose. But it might as well be. Israel will be exhausted from time wasted, soul-games lost, and puffing up their chest against the Almighty.

I don’t know if you can call that temporal, earthly, without also saying it’s spiritual.

But—and this is new, you probably wouldn’t catch it in Isaiah—God will foster a huge, powerful nation of Gentiles, among which our seed, i.e., our own descendants, will be thrown. Those Gentiles in that big country will bear us on their backs because we’ll need it. In turn, we’ll bless them right back by showing them our covenants and history and blessings. God can’t bless the whole world unless he does it this way. Not sure why. But it’s his plan.

Remember that bit about Jacob’s bodyguard? Bodyguards intimidate by rolling up their sleeves to show their muscles. That’s what God’s metaphorically going to do by rescuing the Jews, including us, through the most unlikely people he could. I love his sense of humor.

Meanwhile, the devil-church’s blood massacres will drench its leaders’ heads. They’ll start to slaughter one another and get stinking drunk on their own blood.

Every country that even thinks to put its thumb on God’s people will be squashed right back. Don’t even think about challenging “Zion.” Devil-church: you’re going down like a tent in the wind. You’ll be shaking like a snake in the dust with its head cut off.

It won’t be long before the devil himself loses all his power. And the self-centered idiots who followed him will get burned like stubble in scythed hay fields.

God’s anger is like tar. He’ll pour it on the heads of the crazy opposition. Then light it on fire. If that’s what it takes to save his namesake children, so be it.

Look—I’m starting to sound like that angel in the vision—what I’m talking about isn’t too far off. The key words to remember are all one syllable: blood, flames, smoke. That’s the last meal of anyone with the guts to take on God. Or pretend he’s not there. The righteous are safe, the opposition doomed.

Do you remember reading how God told Moses he’d nurture and validate another prophet of Moses’ same stature? That’s who we have to listen to. Listen and obey, I should add. And that prophet, I’m certain, was the Lamb, the Anointed One I keep bringing up. We usually judge lambs. This One will judge us.

I don’t know how many more ways I can say it: the righteous are safe, while the corrupt, particularly the ones running churches to make money and ride on people’s backs, or to get popularity and sex, are devil’s pawns. They’re the ones who should write up their last spiritual wills and testaments. Because this could all come down as fast as it comes hard.

The flip side is that God will start to treat all followers of the Lamb as though they were little Lambs themselves. He’s got pastures with tall grass and lots of time (i.e., eternity) to munch on it. Meanwhile Satan (the devil’s name) can’t touch them. He’s been branded out of their hearts.

This will all happen. I know it. But I’m done here. This is the last plate of the batch. So read these and the brass plates too. You’ll see that Dad and I and Isaiah and Moses and on and on, we’re all saying the same things. Obey God, follow the Lamb, don’t stop when you hit a fence. Climb over it—or should I say, for all you Lambs, leap over it. That’s the broad jump into eternity. Amen.