2 Nephi 33

This time I’m really going to stop. I’ve written so much and hardly scratched the surface (pun intended). And I’m not much of a writer anyway. Speaking, yes. I can do that effectively. God plants my spoken words into people’s emotions as though planting seed in our own fantastic non-Middle Eastern soil. Still, I admit that some people just aren’t interested. That’s because they think they have better things to do than pay me much attention. That’s their right. But I think it’s a mistake.

If not my words, at least some religious words. Don’t shrug at sacred texts. I’ve done the best I can with this book. I think it’s a good one, maybe even a great one. And beyond what you read, it might help to know that I pray every day for my readers. I even get teary-eyed about it. I’ve stained my pillows with the evidence. I think God hears me and will help get you to live better lives.

I know I’m weak. You don’t have to rub it in. But you’ve probably all seen how God can do a cosmic switcheroo and make the very things that seemed lame come off brilliantly. My main intent here is just to get people to believe in Jesus and what he offers us.

I nail sin to the wall. There’s no debate what my point of view is. If you don’t like it, I think you’re full of the devil. (I’m still working on the humility part.)

I’m high on plainness. I’m high on truth. I’m high on Jesus, because he’s already saved me from hell in a way, even centuries before he makes it to earth. I love my people—you know who you are—and I believe in the Anointed One, my Jesus, around whom I hope to meet you all after we die.

I love the Jews. I hope that’s come through in all my writing. I’m a Jew, more or less, so how could I not love their religion and culture? I also love the Gentiles as a people (i.e., not every one individually). I don’t have much hope for them, except the qualified hope that they’ll turn to God, believe in Jesus, and have much better lives than they’re having now if they don’t.

Believe, believe, believe—all I can do further is keep chanting it at you like a hypnotic induction. Focus on my words and you’ll start to have visions too. Though not “my words” actually, because I’ve been consumed by my writing as though in a trance. The words aren’t coming from me.

So listen to them and follow them. That’s the best investment-to-profit ratio there is.

If you’re reading this I’m already dead. Make the best of the rest of your lives while you can. If my book can help you with that, I’ve done my job. And may I add, if you don’t exploit God’s gifts to you, especially all the literary ones he’s put on your collective shelves, whatever their authorship, you’re squandering your time. You can’t do better than reading all you can about the Lamb and his times, the troughs he fed and drank from.

Respect every word. Because words are how God will judge you. That’s a creed from one who’s tried all his life to write something true and blunt and untethered to mere institutions.

Ignore my writings and I’ll more or less take you to court with God. I won’t have to prosecute you. God will. And just for suspense he usually waits till the last minute to condemn or pardon a person. It’s awkward but effective.

I myself am not so generous. Since God has vested it in me to move mountains, I’m confident my credit with him is excellent. What I ask he generally does. You challenge that pact and I promise you one blistering trial, one where the prosecutor is the judge.

I’m not very meek—I’m working on it—but I’m brave. I may sound feisty—I am—but I just want as many people as possible to stay out of hell. God’s set me that task and I’m bound to do it. Amen.