Helaman 14

[Samuel said some other things at this point. But I can’t get a good transcript. Just thought I’d mention that. Continuing:]

You love spectacle, novelty, showy stuff. I get that. Everyone knows it. So here’s one for you, straight from God. Jesus is coming in five years. You’ll know that he’s here because the night before he’s born it won’t get dark. Thirty-six hours of straight daytime. Just like at the south pole in summer—oh wait, you don’t know about that yet.

Then, after that, when it gets dark again, you’ll see a new star, one that will dwarf the others you’ve seen.

There’ll be other skylights, too. You’ll be so struck by all this that you’ll faint en masse.

If that doesn’t get your Jesus juices flowing I don’t know what could. And when those juices flow, it’s time to start believing. And changing as needed.

(I got all this from an angel, if you’re trying to vet this prediction. That probably won’t fly with you, but there it is.)

Now, I’m a Lamanite. So that’s one strike against me. And I’ve been blunt.

Strike two. You think I’m off the wall. But ha! I’m on the wall and you can’t shut me up.

I think my message is clear. It’s an old one. No need to repeat it. Though I might. And already have.

Okay, here’s another sign. But first a preamble on … death.

Jesus has to die for all this to work. That’s a given, though don’t ask me why.

Then he has to come alive again to plant the seed for every body—literally, every body— to come alive again and stand in front of God just as they were when they were in their prime on Planet Earth.

He also addressed the sin problem, attaching forgiveness to repentance: change your ways or get thrown into endless metaphorical metaphysical fire and complete severance from any brand of wholesomeness. So my message: Change or go to hell.

Back to signs. The day Jesus is killed will be the start of three says of black skies. No light will be seen. Whether lighting a torch or a candle will work, I’m not sure. But, again, I predict no sun, moon, or stars. For seventy-two hours. Pretty dramatic, if God pulls it off.

Now, one problem is that God has told me he will have thunder and lightning during the first hours of this dark spell. Kind of a transition, I guess, since lightning is, in fact, lightening. But it won’t do you much good, since it’s only a flash and you’ll be stumbling around in the earthquakes that will also be taking place, a point I forgot to mention. Lots of seismic activity, crumbling, landslides, the ground wedging out, cliffs breaking off. The kind of stuff that songs will be sung about for decades.

Imagine: valleys becoming mountains in a flash; mountains being leveled in the snap of a finger. I say “imagine,” but we can’t really, can we?

A concomitant is that roadways will split apart, preempting escape. People will have to stay in their buildings, which, as you know, are not prepared for anything like I’ve promised. So people can’t get out of town. And the towns will collapse.

God also has a zombie uprising in store. You don’t know much about zombies. Neither do I, as far as that goes. But the vision I’m getting is of graves opening up, corpses shaking off the dirt and decay, and scaring you as they walk around in plain sight.

So, again, you’ve got your darkness, your storms,

your massive geological dislocation, and your zombies. All this to make you believe in God again. Everyone will know that God is in charge. And he’s really mad.

You can soothe that anger—and maybe save yourselves—if you start getting in line. Granted, we’re talking a final apocalypse four hundred years out. But still, you can help swerve the nation back, starting right now. You can choose, pending any physical or mental disability, whether you’re young people or old people, it makes no difference.

We all die alone. Wouldn’t you like to approach that moment believing in Jesus? That’s a choice, just like lots of more obvious things we have to discern each day. If you choose to believe and I’m not right, you’re not out anything. If you choose not to believe and I’m right, you’ve lost everything.