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Release Notes - Sim Update 12 [1.31.22.0] Available Now

2023.03.21 16:08 FlyWithSeedyL Release Notes - Sim Update 12 [1.31.22.0] Available Now

RELEASE NOTES 1.31.22.0

If you are playing on PC, outdated packages in your community folder may have an unexpected impact on the title’s performance and behavior.
If you suffer from stability issues or long loading times, move your community package(s) to another folder before relaunching the title.
[All Versions] How to Install a New Update Safely

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40th Anniversary Edition / Sim Update 11

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2023.03.21 15:34 MrHyde_47 Signs Brought Me Home to the Church

I posted a couple weeks back about signs and how everything was pointing me to Christ, and ultimately back to Catholicism, no matter how much I tried to question and turn my back on it.
I talked to an old family friend and his words, "it's time to come home, Ryan."
I went to mass two Sundays ago with my two oldest and the priest's homily spoke directly to me and what I was feeling. The Gospel was about the Samaritan woman at the well. I started tearing up as I thought it was just one more direct sign to me how I need to be there.
This past Sunday, I went to confession for the first time in 20 years and felt so relieved (I know there is still work to be done). As I was praying and reflecting, I asked to move from my past to the future and that was mentioned later at Mass (again like he was speaking directly to me). I also thanked the Lord for not giving on me and leading me back and asked for the same for my wife and children, and for me to continue guiding them. Then when we all went to Mass, when I entered the pew,I kneeled and prayed. My prayer was similar to earlier and then I prayed about being in the presence of the Eucharist with my family, to receive communion and that my children and wife will soon be joining me. I was feeling so full. Later that day, my wife told me she was tearing up when the priest started going through the sacrament because she thought it was beautiful. I couldn't believe it, it was like my prayer was answered right then and there before and during Mass. I did not mention anything to her, she just opened up to me. I got tears of joy and hugged her one of the best hugs possible.
My 20 month old boy knows Jesus on the cross and will say Jesus when we ask who that is. That's the only way we've ever really portrayed him when asking him. But when we sat down, he pointed across the Church to a painter window, "Jesus!" How he knew when all he has ever responded to is the crucifix was so joyous to see.
I feel better than ever in a long time and so blessed. Glory be!
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2023.03.21 09:16 Dunjindad Zion (part 1&2)

I remember the experience clearly, beyond just memories it seems like it stayed with me in a psychological level. The haunting details have been engraved deep into my subconscious, and I wish for nothing more than a release from their torment. I'm an educated guy, and I know how it sounds, but it's important you know I'm not insane; aside from run-of-the-mill 20-something teacher burnout with a side of anxiety, I don't have the slightest history of mental illness. I write this now not only as an account of my experience here in West Virginia but also as a warning to anyone who finds themselves unfortunate enough to pass by those woods. I write this also as my final word to my wife, my friends, and my family because I cannot go on living with the constant evocation of terror when the sun fades away. The thought of walking through my day-to-day life with even an inkling of the possibility that someone or something followed me out of that place fills me with dread; it's hard to stomach food and nearly impossible to find enough sanity to drift into sleep for even a moment. I sit now in a vacant room. I'm in a decrepit old motel off of Highway 219, and I can hear things and see things lurking just beyond the parking lot through the hours of the night. The worst part now is that I'm completely unable to decipher wether or not what I'm seeing is reality or a manifestation of my recently developed trepidation. I'm sick now, and my mother has tried to contact me so often that sometimes my phone dies at night when I ignore the constant waterfall of phone calls. She must think I'm dead because I haven't returned one of her calls in quite some time now.
I'm a teacher by trade. I'm not your run-of-the-mill teacher either; I'm a private instructor. Usually the state, or some charity hires me to take on the monumental tasks of spending a semester teaching vastly undereducated kids. Most of the kids I teach can't even read, and they're often poor and disconnected from society; my most common contracts are in far-off towns or hamlets in the middle of whatever the area considers "the boondocks." I've had contracts in the middle of Louisiana's swamps, in mountain communities in Tennessee, and I've even been flown outside of the country to remote tribes just to teach kids how to read and write. Not to lay down a humble brag or anything, but the contracts usually paid really good money compared to your run of the mill teacher's salary, as they were usually funded by someone with a blank check and a mission to put themselves in the limelight for being a philanthropist willing to save the world from the plague of illiteracy. I've always had somewhat of a passion for my job; I got to design my own lesson plans and actually teach these kids something instead of reciting the monotone scripture pasted into an 80-dollar book. My point being, I don't think I've ever directly turned down a contract, and the one that landed me in my current situation wasn't any different.
I was sitting at my desk, rifling through the mountains worth of gigs that so often flooded my emails, scrutinizing the payout on each and every job addressed to me. I would often do this until my eyes grew dry and heavy in an attempt to find the perfect job to take for a semester, but on this rare occasion, just about a fourth of the way into the sea of digital letters, one specific sender jumped out at me. "The Fairhaven Community Church": I had up to this point never received an arrangement from a church, but what left me even more perplexed was not only its direct nature but the exorbitant compensation and contract length. The subject line read, "Private Tutor Needed for 5 Years at 100 Thousand Dollars a Year." I was floored by this statement and immediately wiped my watering eyes for clarity; the offer was too good to be true, and my skeptical nature caused me to audibly scoff when I read it again. I opted to dig further into the inquiry, and I was immediately greeted with a well-written, however poorly formatted, email detailing the needs of the small church community. I had to read the email three times over in order to decode the strange syntax, I came to the conclusion that the church was frequently taking on less fortunate families from around the state and wanted to not only help them and teach the word of God but also wanted to teach the families to read and write at a higher level to allow them to continue their studies. The church had a 5-year plan to rapidly educate a vast amount of families that would come in and out of the church through out the Time in wich the teacher was present.
The job posting brought forth quite a few red flags but the thing that gave me an uneasy feeling was the list of rules posted at the bottom of the email.
"The educator must use official church material to teach the present families"
"The educator is not to leave the premises of the Fairhaven Community"
"The educator must not under any circumstance enter any restricted areas of the Fairhaven Community "
"The educator must not corespond with any media or anyone who may spread word of the project before, during or after their time in fairhaven"
While I admired their aprehension to the press atention unlike most of my other clients who would demand interview after interview so that they would be viewed by the public as a hero crusading against the evil of ignorance and i could also see why the congregation wouldnt want some stranger from the city to poke around their sanctum.i'm not closed minded by any means but the thought of not even being able to leave the property seemed strange to me. Granted in the past when I made my trip to the Congo I was told not to leave the protected area I was in but that wasn't a rule as much as it was a guidline for my own safety. The biggest turn off concerning the listing was the fact that I could only use "official church material", as I mentioned before I enjoy being able to structure the lessons how I please and teach in the way I feel best suits my students interests and learning profile but I couldn't help be further swayed to take the job by the thought of being paid 500 thousand dollars for 5 years of work in a place that would handle my cost of living during the whole excursion. I'm writing all this as a poor attempt at justifying my own poor decisions. Even going back over what I've written I can feel my stumach turn while I read the blatantly obvious signs of danger.
The trip to West Virginia was, for the most part, uneventful and mind-numbing. I've always despised long car rides, despite being on the road so often when going from job to job. After an extended period on the road, my mind spins into an unconscious void and it becomes hard to determine where I've been. There are often times when I completely lose myself in the sea of vehicles in a never-ending stop and go only to find myself becoming aware an hour later. What little entertainment I had on hand usually prevented me from falling asleep or completely disconnecting from the human world on my thousandth 14-hour trip to the middle of nowhere. This trip, however, was different; I didn't find myself dissociating, nor did it feel like the run of the mill from point a to point b. I was nervous and the further I made in to my destination the more I felt as if I had made a grave mistake. Despite being a 28-year-old teacher with very little adult social skills, I couldn't help but feel that a 5-year contract with some pseudo-cult in the heart of West Virginia might have been a bit of an impulsive call even with the paycheck, and every time I thought of cryptic emails, I could feel my stomach constrict and knot at the very premise of meeting the strangers in person.
I found myself in one of my few "coming to reality" moments of the trip when I turned into a small town. I was surprised by the smell I was immediately greeted with; the distinct smell of mildew assaulted my senses at the very moment I passed a pale green and mildly vandalized billboard posted on the side of the road that read "Welcome to Dawson," scrawled in a cheesey font that made all the letters look like logs. The town itself was placed in a valley of some sort, almost completely enveloped by mountains on three sides, as if Mother Nature had left this perfect little alcove in the center just for this hidden civilization. On top of the distant, albeit ever-present, ranges sat hundreds of thousands of trees that wrapped the elevation in a verdant cocoon. The town itself was small compared to Tampa, as all the others were. There weren't any towers climbing towards the sky with an impossible number of floors; the pavement of the underutilized roads was a soft gray color, void of any fresh pavement, but the surface was laid bare of any faults as if it had been used, if only just enough to keep the earth from forcing its way back through the laid concrete. As I pulled up to what I can only imagine was the only stoplight in the town, my hands fumbled for my phone in order to check the status of my journey. 1 minute to destination was plastered at the top of the screen, leaving me in a state of confusion as the only things in sight seemed to be a few stores and what looked to be a small cafe on a road that stretched toward the horizon with no apparent end. The light turned green, and my GPS sent me to an immediate left to a small, run-down store just off the entrance that brought me into the mountain asylum. The store was decrepit; the paint was peeling from its decorative siding, creating a splotchy pattern of dingy blue and an aging off white. One of the large windows looking into the store had a sheet of wood crudely nailed over it, and an awning stretched from the end of the parking lot directly to the roof of the gas station as if whatever contractors built this were trying to deplorably hide the abomination from God himself. The store had no sign or title other than an LED fixture that indicated that the nameless fuel depot was open.
"You have arrived at your destination," the droning voice said through the speakers of my car as I came to a reluctant stop. I looked down at my phone to be certain the GPS wasn't struggling to find a pathway yet to be discovered by anyone except for those who had lived there their whole lives, but according to the directions, this was indeed my "intended" destination. Immediately checking my surroundings, I took note of the road that carved its way through the center of the poor excuse for a town ahead of me, sparsely decorated with various local stores and venues. According to my map the road didn't break off from this central strip for another 5 miles.
I buried my head in my hands after begrudgingly throwing my car into park and let out an exasperated sigh. I frantically flipped through the emails I had passed back and forth to my usual benefactor to find any messages concerning the exact location of my job site aside from the address I had been given.
"A fucking gas station, they gave me the address of a fucking gas station" I groaned as I came apon an email that had been sent...5 minutes ago. The subject line read "Apon Arival."
"When you arrive in Dawson, be sure to contact me at the number posted below so I may provide additional instruction on how to safely make it to Fairhaven. "Zion can be dangerous."
I felt my heart drop when my tired eyes made contact with the message below. My heart once again began to slam against my chest—was I lied to? Up to this point, the mystery man who had been detailing the project had alluded to my final stop being in Dawson. It was common to be sent to offshoots of towns that were far removed from modern commodities and human development, yet it was also common that whoever had hired me would be upfront and rather specific in telling me that my location wasn't so much a town as it was a "community" beyond the confines of city streets, so I wouldn't be surprised when I found myself over an hour away from the nearest comfort. I had also been warned of a place's dangers before; the last time I sat down to write, I mentioned that on a trip to the Congo, I was directly informed of the dangers of leaving my protective shell, but in those cases, safety was often typed in bold so that I knew what to expect from the start.
I was plagued with despondence as I slammed my phone into my pocket before forcing the door of my car open with an angry grunt. My brisk and heavy footfall fell onto the cement with intent, regardless of my clulessness. I pushed my way through the gas station's rusted door, which would have welded itself to the frame of the building if not for the little traffic that passed through it, when I was greeted with a poorly lit convenience store. The hum of aging fluorescent lights sang through the quite store. Web-like cracks formed on the yellowing stone as if the walls themselves were trying to escape from the neglected mess, the white panels on the ceiling were rife with black and brown spots indicating frequent leaks and water damage, and the smell was ungodly. I would have gone insane if I was forced to work in a room that had that pestilential smell glued to it. The shelves laid not quite bear but with just enough product on them that for the place to still be listed as a buisness that caused the aluminum casings to bend downward like they where struggling to hold the weight of a finite amount of light snacks.
I locked eyes with a surly man with ash and gray hair who sat behind the counter with a dejected stare. He wore a stained shirt and wrinkled jeans. His unkind eyes were bloodshot and glazed over with age, which seemed to break him, and his lips sat inward to indicate the lack of teeth in his sunken face.
"I can help you," he mumbled with a thick draw that I would have not understood if I hadn't met plenty of people of his likeness prior.
"Yeah, I'm... looking for Fairhaven?"
The grouchy old cashier scratched at his knife like whiskers and leaned onto the counter. "Fayrehayven?" He said obviously perplexed
I gathered what little skills of human interaction I had beyond lecturing a room full of students as I approached the man "right, I'm a teacher and..."
The old man quickly cut me off with little regard for or interest in my oncoming and admittedly pretentious elevator pitch, which I often gave to anyone who asked. "Yer in Dawson, gottanuff teachers last I heard."
"Yeah, well I'm not supposed to be in Dawson." I'm looking for Fairhaven. I interjected
The man responded with an apparent tone of disdain: "Ain't never heard of no FayreHayven; I've been here fiftee sebn years and ain't never heard of no FayreHayven."
I took a deep breath in an attempt to carry the conversation, but I've learned to count my losses when they make themselves known.
"Well, I suppose I'm lost then," I said, holding my hands up.
He grumbled once again and looked me up and down with his hateful glare before forcing out a slight "mmhmm."
I turned and rolled my eyes a bit before walking out of the store, completely defeated. I contemplated for quite some time before reaching back for my phone to examine the cryptic message that overtook my screen. I faltered only slightly before pressing my finger to the highlighted blue digits pasted at the end of the digital letter. The dial tone chimed for longer than expected, and right before the all-too-common voice mailbox message played, I heard a barely audible click before a voice came over the phone.
"Hello, Mr. Hayes," the man spoke in a scratchy, almost strained voice, as if he were exerting himself even while speaking.
The way the man spoke was just as unsettling as the emails we had passed back and forth previously, and without thinking, I responded with a little more panic in my voice than I care to admit, "How did you know it was me?"
The man retorted immediately. "I don't know many with a Tampa area code, my friend; call it intuition."
I kicked myself for being so skeptical after his truthfully sound logic connected with the bundle of nerves that was my mind before I mustered the confidence to say, "Sorry, I'm a bit on edge." "I think you might have given me the wrong address; I'm at a gas station just off the entrance to Dawson."
I waited for a moment before the man spoke once again. "The address we provided was correct; there are no pathways to Fairhaven, and we have attempted to remain secretive as to avoid the judgment of the individuals that may regard us as an unsavory commune." If you look to your right you will see a small path cut into the trees just beyond the convince store. "If you follow this path by foot, we will see to it that a member of the congregation greets you so that you can arrive safely."
I looked back towards the blue Honda Accord I had arrived in and argued, "All of my equipment is in my vehicle—my notes and laptop, my clothes, and I'm certainly not equipped to be hiking in dress shoes." I.."
The hoarse growl of the man rather shot back with an audatory shot of aggressive air: "We will see to it that your things arrive at the Fairhaven Community." I implore you to make your way onto the trail before nightfall. "The forest can be very dangerous without the sanctum of sunlight."
I glanced over at what I could infer was the overgrown pathway he was referring to with a shaky breath.
"I can understand your hesitancy; fear is a powerful emotion, but do not allow it to cloud your judgment." "The walk shouldn't take longer than a quarter of an hour." He spoke calmly now, but there was no comfort in his voice, rather a malignant vexation, as if it were meant to be a threat.
I gripped My phone white-knuckled at the accuracy of his statement. His perception of me was correct because I was not only terrified of the situation but also beyond frustrated at the thought of taking a hike up a mountain directly after a 14-hour trip with nothing but a 2-hour rest in a motel at the halfway mark.
"Guess I'll be there soon," I said, despite my mind showering him with a barrage of heinous insults. He hung up the phone without saying another word.
I gathered a few small commodities from my vehicle before turning towards the cutout hidden within the expanse of millions of trees that ascended to the summit of the gargantuan elevation ahead of me. It was overstated when the man labeled the cocofany of unkempt foliage a pathway; there was hardly even enough of an opening to make my way into the bramble, let alone not be perpetually scratched by the harsh and apathetic thorns that various plants had developed for occasions such as these. The slope that the natural alleyway was built on very quickly turned from a steady incline to a steep, near-vertical hill void of foothold, and I had to rely on my softened hands, which grasped desperately at the closest trees. It didn't take long for my feet to ache and burn. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've never been an outdoorsman. I was often poked fun at by the locals for being a city dweller when I gave a common toad a look of disgust, so it could automatically be assumed that I'm hardly the hiking type either.
The aforementioned 45-minute walk turned into an hour and then two before My knees buckled from beneath me. I was told that someone was to meet me at the point between the gas station and the community, and I was certain that I had to have made the trek to their standards regardless of my excessive stops. I laid my back against the trunk of a large tree before looking toward the sky. The faint glow of a reddening sky was barely visible through the canopy above before my dismay began to settle in. Nightfall was coming, and in the state I was in, I had no hope of making my way to the destination in the next 6 hours, let alone before nightfall. I closed my eyes tight and buried my head into my blistered hands, I could feel my brisk beating heart in my palms when the deafening roar of an engine rocketed my senses into overdrive. My head shot upward toward the golden beams of light, obscuring their source entirely.
"What in God's name is a fella like you doing way out here?" The voice wasn't the same as the man I had spoken to on the phone. It was just as old and eroded, but it held much more of the thick twang of a local.
"I'm looking for fairhaven." "They said they were sending someone to get me!" I shouted back over the boisterous hum of idling machinery.
"Well then, it's best you hop on." "Ain't a shot in hell in making any further in your condition."
I was in no position to argue, so I clasped my hands on a low-hanging branch and lifted myself upright before closing in on what seemed to be a crude attempt at an ATV. On top of the buggy was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and an ice white goatee. He was draped in a flannel shirt and blue jeans that have seen their share of hard times. He wore glasses that fell to the tip of his nose in order to examine me further as I approached. I boarded my saviors vessel and caught a whiff of what I knew to be the pungent odor of illicit alcohol. This man wasn't what I expected from the conversations I had prior with the eccentric leader of the religious movement, but the thought was pushed to the back of my mind as the contraption immediately spun its tires against the leaves and dirt of the forest floor, kicking back a blast of woodland scrap backward as it twisted one hundred and eighty degrees to face parrallel with the pathway that I thought to be my demise, only to scream up the hillside with unexpected force.
.
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2023.03.21 08:26 dice1899 LFMW Rebuttal, Part 9: The Early Church – The Witnesses [B]

Posts in this series (note: link will not work properly in old Reddit or 3rd-party apps): https://www.reddit.com/lds/collection/363e4ce4-8cec-40ad-8ea9-5954cf1fe52d
Last week, I briefly mentioned some of the insults and ill-treatment that have come my way because of writing these posts. One of the primary accusations made against me was that I was trying to make a name for myself. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
I have personally advertised these posts a grand total of six times: when I made my first Reddit post regarding the CES Letter, I went to a private LDS-related sub with about 30 active members and asked that if anyone had anything further they’d found, to share it in the comments of the post; when FAIR asked if they could repost them, I linked to the first one on my Facebook account and told my friends for the first time what I’d been doing for the past six months; I also mentioned when FAIR and Jennifer Roach each graciously invited me onto their podcasts; I announced this current series on Facebook; and I thanked FAIR for giving me an award at last year’s Conference, as well as all of the people who had been so supportive of me to that point. That’s it.
While I’m incredibly grateful to FAIR for giving me a wider platform and I’m very proud of the work I’ve put out, my goal was never to get attention for myself. I haven’t been searching out ways to put myself in the spotlight. I wasn’t even the one who approached FAIR; it was the other way around. In my offline life, I’m pretty shy and introverted, and attention actually makes me uncomfortable. It’s been an adjustment these past few years, with people suddenly knowing my name and recognizing my face. I don’t regret putting my real name to my writing and numerous blessings have come my way because of it. I’ve made a lot of friends, and the FAIR audience is generous and amazing and inspiring. But honestly, it hasn’t been easy and it wasn’t my intention.
I had five goals when writing the original CES Letter series:
1) To say that yes, these questions actually have been answered, and to share a few of those answers
2) To offer up a bunch of resources people could use to investigate the truth for themselves and find their own answers
3) To teach people how to evaluate sources and rank them according to their reliability and trustworthiness
4) To teach people how to study with the Spirit by their side, and
5) To point out manipulation tactics and fallacies commonly used by critics in their attacks
Ultimately, my intent was always to teach people how to maintain and grow their faith in Christ and in His restored gospel.
And you know what? Intention matters. It’s why I spent time at the beginning of each of these blog series delving into the background and prior statements of the authors whose documents we’re discussing. It’s why I give background information on some of the notable figures that come up. It’s why we need to learn how to evaluate sources in the first place.
A hostile source has a bias and an agenda. So does a friendly source, and so does a neutral source. Jeremy Runnells and Thomas Faulk have a bias and an agenda against the Church. I have a bias and an agenda in favor of the Church. You need to know that going into this material. Their intention is to tear down your faith. Mine is to build up your faith. I’ve been upfront about that right from the beginning. Have they? Because that’s information that you can use while evaluating our reliability and trustworthiness. Which of us is hiding information from you? Which of us is cutting quotes out of all context to give a false impression? Which of us is telling you to trust them, and which is telling you to trust God, the ultimate source of truth?
I’m bringing this all up because today’s topic involves accounts written by sources that need to be treated with caution. However, Thomas Faulk presents them as being completely truthful. Understanding how to evaluate sources is critical, and it’s only going to become more so as the years go by.
We all know that we can’t trust everything we read on the internet. Or, at least, we should know that. But for some reason, a lot of otherwise very smart, capable people don’t hold history books to the same standard. They need to. People make mistakes, and people have biases that aren’t always immediately clear.
You know the saying, “History was written by the winners”? That’s true. Historians have agendas, too. For a prime example of this, you don’t need to look any farther than D. Michael Quinn’s thoroughly debunked Same-Sex Dynamics Among Nineteenth-Century Americans: A Mormon Example.
In today’s chunk of the LFMW, Faulk picks up with a discussion about the Eight Witnesses:
  • The 8 Witnesses
On March 25, 1838, Martin Harris testified in public that none of the 3 or 8 witnesses saw or handled the physical plates.
That’s a mischaracterization of what we know.
After the fall of the Kirtland Safety Society bank in 1837, most of the Saints left Kirtland in early 1838. By the time this meeting occurred, a faction led by Warren Parrish had taken control of the temple with the intent, according to George A. Smith, “to renounce the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith, and take the ‘Mormon’ doctrines to overthrow all the religions in the world, and unite all the Christian churches in one general band, and they to be its great leaders.” He also said, “One of them told me that Moses was a rascal and the Prophets were tyrants, and that Jesus Christ was a despot, Paul a base liar and all religion a fudge. And Parrish said he agreed with him in principle.”
Eventually, a growing division between the members of the faction came to a head, and they held a meeting to determine the validity of the Book of Mormon and other revelations Joseph received. This is the meeting referred to in Burnett’s letter.
I’m going to briefly skip ahead in the LFMW, just so the rest of this explanation makes sense:
A letter on Josephsmithpapers.org dated April 15, 1838, Stephen Burnett wrote the following to Lyman Johnson:
“I have reflected long and deliberately upon the history of this church and weighed the evidence for and against it — loth to give it up — but when I came to hear Martin Harris state in public that he never saw the plates with his natural eyes only in vision or imagination, neither Oliver [Cowdery] nor David [Whitmer] and also that the eight witnesses never saw them and hesitated to sign that instrument for that reason, but were persuaded to do it, the last pedestal gave way, in my view our foundations was sapped and the entire superstructure fell a heap of ruins, … I was followed by W. [Warren] Parish, Luke Johnson and John Boynton, all of who concurred with me. After we were done speaking, M[artin] Harris arose and said he was sorry for any man who rejected the Book of Mormon for he knew it was true, he said he had hefted the plates repeatedly in a box with only a tablecloth or handkerchief over them, but he never saw them only as he saw a city through a mountain. And said that he never should have told that the testimony of the eight was false, if it had not been picked out of air but should have let it passed as it was.” (http://josephsmithpapers.org/paperSummary/letterbook-2?p=69)
Burnett was a member of Parrish’s band of dissenters, and believed that Martin Harris recanted his testimony during this speech. Parrish agreed with his assessment, though George A. Smith, who was in town during the meeting, reported the opposite. He said that Harris testified in favor of the Book of Mormon’s truthfulness, and said that anyone who rejected it would be damned.
According to a Church Institute Manual handout, “Martin Harris strongly objected to how Burnett described his testimony and ‘remained a convinced Book of Mormon believer.’” The quote is taken from Richard L. Anderson’s fantastic book, Investigating the Book of Mormon Witnesses:
We are of course seeing Harris through the mind of a frustrated intermediary, one who thinks Mormonism presents a “whole scene of lying and deception.” He thinks that Martin Harris has not really seen the plates. If “only in vision,” then Burnett (not Harris) says it was really just “imagination.” If the Three Witnesses “only saw them spiritually,” then Burnett (not Harris) can explain it as essentially “in vision with their eyes shut.” But Martin Harris felt misrepresented, or he would not have stood up in the Kirtland Temple to challenge the explanations of Burnett and his disaffected associates. Note that there are two distinct experiences of Harris: (1) “he said that he had hefted the plates repeatedly in a box with only a tablecloth or handkerchief over them, but he never saw them, only as he saw a city through a mountain”; (2) “he never saw the plates with his natural eyes, only in vision.” Getting at the real Martin Harris requires subtracting Burnett’s sarcasm that seeps into the above wording. … In other words, Burnett heard Martin say that he had seen the plates in vision, and when Burnett uses “only” four times to ridicule the experience, that shows his disbelief, not Martin’s speech. Martin’s candid denial of seeing the plates while translating was sometimes exaggerated into a denial of ever seeing the plates, but even Burnett reports Martin claiming two types of contact with the plates: lifting them thinly covered, plus later seeing them in the hands of the angel. So Burnett paraphrased Martin Harris with the evident rationalizations of a skeptic. But Martin knew his own experience and remained a convinced Book of Mormon believer. Study of his interviews shows how strongly he insisted that the sight of the angel and plates was as real as the sight of the physical objects around him….
In fact, Burnett’s own letter says that when Harris realized how Burnett and others interpreted his testimony, he stood back up and testified of the Book of Mormon, then said that his previous comments had been “picked out” of him under duress.
Now, there is a slight discrepancy on what this letter actually says. The Joseph Smith Papers Project transcribes this line as “picked out of air.” However, in his Early Mormon Documents, Volume 5, Dan Vogel transcribes it as “picked out of [h]im.” When you zoom in on the text, it’s hard to tell exactly what it says. Either way, though, the point is clear that in Burnett’s own words, Harris felt like he’d been forced into making whatever statement he may have made about the Eight Witnesses.
So, since none of these are firsthand accounts from Harris himself, we have to try to judge the sources on their merits. Burnett and Parrish claim Harris said one thing, Smith felt he said something else. And, as was just pointed out, Burnett’s letter later shows Harris agreeing with Smith.
Personally, to me, it sounds like Burnett and Parrish mischaracterized the situation. Regardless of where you land on that, however, it’s obvious that the actual situation is a lot more questionable than Faulk’s proclamation makes it seem. The following sentence actually comes in between the first sentence I quoted from Faulk and the letter:
This statement caused apostles Luke S. Johnson, Lyman E. Johnson, John F. Boynton, high priest Stephen Burnett and LDS Seventy Warren Parish to leave the church.
This is factually untrue. They left the Church because of the failure of the Kirtland Safety Society. As most of the people listed in that sentence were apostles at the time, their departures from the Church are well-documented.
Luke Johnson denounced Joseph alongside Warren Parrish and many others in late 1837 and at that point resigned from the Church. He was formally excommunicated alongside his brother Lyman E. Johnson and David Whitmer on April 13, 1838.
That denunciation took place shortly after December 10, 1837. All of those listed by Faulk were among those who denounced Joseph at this time. The History of the Church had this to say about it:
I returned to Kirtland on or about the 10th of December. During my absence in Missouri Warren Parrish, John F. Boynton, Luke S. Johnson, Joseph Coe, and some others united together for the overthrow of the Church. Soon after my return this dissenting band openly and publicly renounced the Church of Christ of Latter-day Saints and claimed themselves to be the old standard, calling themselves the Church of Christ, excluding the word “Saints,” and set me at naught, and the whole Church, denouncing us as heretics, not considering that the Saints shall possess the kingdom according to the Prophet Daniel.
Remember, The History of the Church was written to sound like it was Joseph speaking, but there’s no guarantee this paragraph was actually taken from his own words. It may have been the recollection of someone else entirely that was rewritten to sound like Joseph’s voice.
John F. Boynton was excommunicated in 1837. So was Warren Parrish. In fact, between July and August of 1837, Parrish was the one who led the armed riot inside the Kirtland Temple, an incident in which Boynton participated. They were well out of the Church before that letter of Burnett’s was ever written.
The only one whose timeline of apostasy is at all murky is Stephen Burnett. Most sources just say that he apostatized “by 1838.” He was one who participated in that denunciation of Joseph in December of 1837, but it’s unclear whether he actually left the Church at this point or within the next few months of early 1838.
There was no love lost between Burnett and Joseph. In the Elder’s Journal from August 1838, Joseph described Burnett as an “little ignorant blockhead ... whose heart was so set on money that he would at any time, sell his soul for fifty dollars and then think he had made an excellent bargain; and who had got wearied of the restraints of religion, and could not bear to have his purse taxed.”
So, clearly, by the time April 1838 rolled around, Burnett and Parrish were both incredibly hostile toward the Church and particularly toward Joseph Smith. That bias has bearing on how we should view their characterization of the meeting featuring Martin Harris, just like Richard L. Anderson explained above.
And let’s not forget the words of Martin Harris himself:
[N]o man ever heard me in any way deny the truth of the Book of Mormon, the administration of the angel that showed me the plates; nor the organization of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, under the administration of Joseph Smith Jun., the prophet the Lord raised up for that purpose, in these the latter days, that he may show forth his power and glory. The Lord has shown me these things by his Spirit–by the administration of holy angels–and confirmed the same with signs following....
A similar point was made by John Whitmer, the next Witness we’re going to discuss:
I have never heard that any one of the three or eight witnesses ever denied the testimony that they have borne to the Book as published in the first edition of the Book of Mormon. There are only two of the witnesses to that book now living, to wit., David Whitmer, one of the three, and John Wh[itmer], one of the eight. Our names have gone forth to all nations, tongues and people as a divine revelation from God. And it will bring to pass the designs of God according to the declaration therein contained.
These men were firm in their testimonies. Each one of them died still declaring their testimonies to the world.
On April 5, 1839 member of the Church, Theodore Turley, challenged John Whitmer, one of the 8 witnesses, to either affirm or deny his testimony regarding the gold plates. Whitmer responded by saying “I now say, I handled those plates ... they were shown to me by a supernatural power.” (History of the Church, vol.3 p307).
According to the 1828 Webster’s Dictionary, “supernatural” was synonymous with “miraculous” in Joseph’s day. The Witnesses appeared at various times to use the word to mean “by the power of God.”
As FAIR explains, three years before this report by Turley, John Whitmer said:
I desire to testify unto all ... that I have most assuredly seen the plates from whence the Book of Mormon [was] translated, and that I have handled these plates, and know of a surety that Joseph Smith, jr. has translated the Book of Mormon by the gift and power of God.
Then, in 1839, Turley reports Whitmer as making this statement:
Whitmer replied: ‘I now say, I handled those plates; there were fine engravings on both sides. I handled them;’ and he described how they were hung [on rings], and [said] ‘they were shown to me by a supernatural power;’ he acknowledged all.
And then, in late 1877 or early 1878, Myron Bond reported Whitmer as saying:
John Whitmer told me last winter ... [that he] ‘saw and handled’ [the plates and] ... helped to copy [the Book of Mormon manuscript] as the words fell from Joseph’s lips by supernatural or [A]lmighty power.
In each of these three statements, he declared that he both physically saw and handled the plates. Then he closed each statement by also testifying of the miraculous nature of the Book of Mormon. In the Turley incident, if it was reported accurately, he wasn’t saying that he didn’t literally see and handle the plates. He was saying that the plates themselves were miraculous. It was miraculous that Joseph received them, that he was able to translate them, and that Whitmer was allowed to see them for himself.
Again, situations like this are why we need to research these questions. If we only looked at one quote presented in a slanted manner, we wouldn’t know that this was a common pattern of Whitmer’s, and that he didn’t mean what Faulk implies he meant.
Why would a supernatural power be necessary if the plates actually existed? Couldn’t Joseph just invite the men he wanted to be witnesses over to his house, take the plates out of the box where he kept them and pass them around?
That’s exactly what was done when the Eight Witnesses saw the plates. They went into the woods to do it, but Joseph is the one who handed the plates over to them and let them hold them and turn the leaves.
The Three Witnesses were a different story, but there’s a reason why they were shown the plates by an angel. If their testimony was exactly the same as that of the Eight Witnesses, critics could claim that Joseph just manufactured the plates himself and there was nothing miraculous about it. And if all of the testimonies were like that of the Three Witnesses, they could claim that the plates never actually existed and that Joseph made the entire thing up. But this way, it’s a lot harder to account for the two different types of testimony.
Why are visions and supernatural means necessary to see these plates?
They weren’t. They are now, because the plates were returned to the Angel Moroni, but that wasn’t the case in 1829. They needed to pray for permission to see the plates, but they didn’t need to be shown them through miraculous means. The Three Witnesses were shown the plates by an angel to prove as true the Lord’s revelation that they had to see them by faith.
However, the two different types of testimony, one spiritual and one practical, make it that much harder to dismiss their testimonies. I have no doubt that was by design.
Published on Josephsmithpapers.org are the signed statements by the 3 and 8 witnesses. JosephSmithPapers reveals that both statements and all signatures are in the handwriting of Oliver Cowdery. The official statements printed in the Book of Mormon are not signed with original signatures, dated or given a specific location where the events occurred.
The only surviving full copy of the Book of Mormon manuscript is the printer’s manuscript. It’s in Oliver’s handwriting because he copied it from the original manuscript so that they’d have two copies available.
In October of 1841, Joseph put the original copy in the cornerstone of the Nauvoo House. More than 40 years later, Emma’s second husband, Lewis Bidamon, made some renovations to the house and rediscovered it. It was badly damaged by water seepage and mold, and the Witness statements were some of the most damaged because they were at the back of the original Book of Mormon, not the front. Bidamon displayed the pages and gave many away to visitors to the house. Today, only about 28% of it is still intact, and even many of those pages and fragments are damaged. Extensive efforts to conserve them have been undertaken by both the Church and the Wilford Woodruff Museum, the two places where the bulk of the remaining pages survive. Private collectors have other additional fragments.
We have one statement from John Whitmer saying he signed the original copy, and three accounts of Joseph F. Smith saying that David Whitmer said he signed it as well (here, here, and here). There’s also a fourth David Whitmer account saying that Oliver copied their names onto the printer’s manuscript. Whitmer initially believed he had the original manuscript, which had previously been in Oliver’s possession until his death, but later came to accept that he had the printer’s copy.
Aside from the John Whitmer account, these are all secondhand reports, some given several decades later. As such, they should be treated with some skepticism. But, as most of them come from a prophet, I do personally lend them some weight and consider them to be pretty solid sources.
It’s true they’re not dated, but we know approximately when the experiences happened (in June of 1829) and where they happened. The Three Witnesses were shown the plates by the angel in the woods near the Whitmer home, while a few days later, the Eight Witnesses were shown them in the woods near the Smith home in Palmyra.
It should be noted that in John Whitmer’s final interview, published after his death, the details differ from the other accounts. He’s quoted as saying that he was shown the plates inside Joseph’s home, in two groups of four rather than all at once. However, this does conflict with other accounts, and David Whitmer publicly disputed the accuracy of the interview when it was published.
These are not 11 legally sworn statements; rather it seems possible that they are simple accounts pre-written, pre-signed and agreed upon at some later time.
This is a comment ripped straight out of the CES Letter. No, these are not legally sworn statements, but who on earth ever claimed that they were? Why would anyone think that? There’s no notary information on the statement.
And obviously, the printer’s manuscript was pre-written and pre-signed, since it’s not the original manuscript. But nothing other than the content of the statement was agreed upon at a later time. They all declared repeatedly, until the end of their lives, that they experienced the things they testified in those statements that they experienced.
In addition, consider the statement by Martin Harris (one of the 3 witnesses): “…and also that the eight witnesses never saw them and hesitated to sign that instrument for that reason, but were persuaded to do it.”
And, as we covered in the beginning of this post, that statement is suspect. It’s not a direct quote, it’s a summary from a hostile source’s letter—and that same letter said that Harris disavowed this statement.
Also, it’s worth pointing out that Martin Harris was not present when the Eight Witnesses handled the plates. He didn’t know what they experienced any more than we can. All any of us has to go on is their signed statement and the other comments they made about their experiences over the years. It’s not our place, and it’s certainly not Harris’s place, to redefine their experiences for them.
Reportedly this source document is printer’s manuscript and the original was only partially ruined, however the Church has never been able to produce the original.
Oh, good heavens. Yes, this is the printer’s manuscript, as we went over, and yes, the original was mostly damaged. The Church has produced the original on the Joseph Smith Papers Project. However, they did not obtain it until 2017. Prior to that, it was owned by the RLDS/Community of Christ Church, and the Church could not publish it in full color due to copyright reasons. There was a black and white copy copyrighted to the Community of Christ available on the website before that point.
So, in wrapping this all up, there was a clear, consistent theme running throughout this entire post. Vet your sources, guys. People lie, they twist the facts, and they have agendas. Be aware of that, and do your homework. Yeah, it can take a long time to do that, I get it. But the truth is important. When we hear slanted rhetoric like this, it’s not always obvious what the truth really is. We have to put in the work to figure it out. The Lord rewards us when we do. Remember, it’s after the trial of our faith that the witness of the truth comes to us.
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2023.03.21 07:13 usopsong In praise of charity

In John’s gospel the Lord says: By this love you have for one another, everyone will know you are my disciples. In a letter by John we read: My dear people, let us love one another since love comes from God and everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God. Anyone who fails to love can never have known God, because God is love.
So the faithful should look into themselves and carefully examine their minds and the impulses of their hearts. If they find some of the fruits of love stored in their hearts then they must not doubt God’s presence within them, but to make themselves more and more able to receive so great a guest they should do more and more works of durable mercy and kindness. After all, if God is love, charity should know no limit, for God himself cannot be confined within limits.
What is the appropriate time for performing works of charity? My beloved children, any time is the right time, but these days of Lent provide a special encouragement. Those who want to be present at the Lord’s Passover in holiness of mind and body should seek above all to win this grace. Charity contains all other virtues and covers a multitude of sins.
As we prepare to celebrate that greatest of all mysteries, by which the blood of Jesus Christ destroyed our sins, let us first of all make ready the sacrificial offerings — that is, our works of mercy. What God in his goodness has already given to us, let us give to those who have sinned against us.
And to the poor also, and to those who are afflicted in various ways, let us show a more open-handed generosity so that God may be thanked through many voices and the needy may be fed as a result of our fasting. No act of devotion on the part of the faithful gives God more pleasure than the support that is lavished on his poor. Where God finds charity with its loving concern, there he recognises the reflection of his own fatherly care.
Do not be put off giving by a lack of resources. A generous spirit is itself great wealth, and there can be no shortage of material for generosity where it is Christ who feeds and Christ who is fed. His hand is present in all this activity: his hand, which multiplies the bread by breaking it and increases it by giving it away.
When you give alms, do not be anxious but full of happiness. The greatest treasure will go to the one who has kept the least for himself. The holy apostle Paul tells us: He who provides seed for the sower will give bread for food, provide you with more seed, and increase the harvest of your goodness, in Christ Jesus our Lord, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit for ever and ever. Amen.
– Sermon by Pope St. Leo the Great, early church father
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2023.03.21 02:28 YrsaAse Prayer Vigil in Eaton for Scottie

Prayer Vigil in Eaton for Scottie submitted by YrsaAse to MissingScottieMorris [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 02:10 BeTheLight24-7 What to do after a deliverance, tips on how to stay free

Now that the veil is removed from your eyes (like being unplugged from the matrix) being delivered is a very mind bending experience. Here are some tips to stay free
Get into your Bible, read it before you go to sleep. This will help protect your mind
Put on the full armor of God (Ephesians 6) in the morning, and in the evening before sleep. This will also help with insomnia.
Armor of God Prayer “Lord, I come to you today in the name of Jesus, and I put on the full armor of God. I put on my helmet of salvation which will protect my thoughts, I apply the breast plate of righteousness that will protect my heart. I apply the belt of truth, That I may walk in the truth. And I put on the shoes of peace that I may bring peace. I gladly pick up my shield of faith that will repel any darts or arrows of the evil one. And I apply the sword of the spirit, which is sharper than any two-edged sword. I put on the full armor of God that I may stay away from the wickedness of this world and the evil one in Jesus ‘s name. Amen”
Change your life, whatever got you to this place don’t go back to it. Don’t watch porn anymore don’t fall into the trap of sin, There are many doors to your spirit try not to open those doors. But if you do, repent.
Cleanse your house or room,in the name of Jesus Christ.
How to make Holy WateOil For both- Get Water (Distilled if able) or Olive oil
1.Draw a cross on a piece of paper 2. In a bowl pure in wateoil and place on top of Cross 3. Place palm over water flat and say out loud “I bless this wateoil in the Name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit that it may sting and cast out the Enemy”
How to cleanse the home in the Name of Jesus Christ
  1. Crack open your front/back door
  2. With Holy Water, in one hand, your other hand is raised in front of you like a stop sign.
  3. Go to every corner of your home saying out loud with Command “If there is a Spirit in here NOT of Jesus Christ, you are NOT invited, and I Command you to Leave!” Sprinkle holy water around
  4. Every window, door and mirror, in Wateoil put a cross on them, saying “I bless this window/dooMirror in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit”
  5. Work your way from furthest to nearest your opened front/back door....sprinkling Holy water everywhere.
  6. Bless the Door that you left cracked Open. And shut it. (A door is better than a window. This can be done to a room as well, if you get Goosebumps anywhere, you know it is working) The worst thing that can happen from cleansing your house is that you don’t get attacked.
Listen to gospel music, it’s actually pretty good than it used to be
Go through your house, listening to the Holy Spirit voice, and throw away anything and everything that you think you shouldn’t have in your house
Don’t watch horror movies. Especially the demonic ones.
Go to church, maybe even help out in your church.
Go volunteer at the homeless shelter, and feed people. (Good deeds)
Self deliverance works. So if Deliverance works on soldier, demons but not generals and you will know because the generals will say something like. “Im not going anywhere” SELF- DELIVERANCE Self-deliverance (doing it to yourself) works as well if any of the soldier demons attach to you through SIN. (We all fall short) The Generals, sometimes will not go w/out help from another believer. (where 2 or more are gathered) This is a real easy thing to do. When you feel off, all the sudden are having temptations in your life you weren’t having before, you feel heavy, anxiety starts happening when you didn’t have anxiety. Follow these instructions. 1. Ask yourself out loud, “In the name of Jesus, do I have a spirit on me not of Jesus Christ? Yes or No? You should hear a yes or no answer. 2. You can ask, “How did you get on me demon?” And a picture, thought or word will be brought up in your mind. You can also ask, for a name if you care to. 3. Repent of that SIN. 4. The say out loud with Command “If there is a spirit on me not of Jesus Christ, you are not invited, and with the blood of Jesus Christ washes over me, I command you out, NOW!,” make your self- cough, or exhale 3x. I find making yourself cough works best, b/c usually its not a weak cough but instead a heavy one. When I do this to myself and I did have something on me, I get goosebumps. 5. Ask for the Holy Spirit to fill any voids that may have caused
Maybe practice fasting :
How to do a water only fast: Lets go for 3 1⁄2 days. The pre-fast day have a light meal (no meat) then that evening drink a big glass of warm water (distilled if able) and a bunch of salt and go to sleep. The next morning you will have a bathroom break, this will be cleaning out your intestines so you are not as hungry. Fill up a container with water (distilled if able). I like to add a half of Lemon/Lime to the water, but just water by itself works as well. In the morning when you wake, Pray to God. Alert him that you are doing a fast and for him to help you in it. Anoint you forehead with holy water or oil (see how to make holy wateoil). “I bless myself in the name of the Father, the Son & the holy spirit”. The 1st day is not easy. You will get hunger pains. When the pains come, pray to Jesus for him to take those pains away (and he will). If it is too hard, eat 1 piece of fruit or drink a fruit smoothie. Wash your face in the evening. Pray and get into your bible before you go to sleep. 2nd day – 3 1⁄2 or more. Wash your face in the morning/shower. Do the same thing as day one but try your best not to eat anything. Wake up: Pray, anoint your forehead with oil, drink water (distilled if able) go about your days, praying when hunger pains come, they will come. Pray and get into your bible. If you get tired, take a nap. It is imperative that you do not go around boasting that you are on a fast. The fast is between you and God. 5
(Matthew 6:16-18) “But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head and wash thy face; That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto they father which is in secret: and thy Father, which seethe in secret, shall reward thee openly” Once you are on day 3 to? The temptations of food will be unreal. Everything will look great to eat. Do not give in. Your body will start to feel lighter. At this point, when praying you should be able to hear the voice of the Holy Spirit inside you. You will know when to stop the fast when the Holy Spirit tells you to stop the fast, or you are just sooo hungry you can’t do it anymore. Listen to your body. Drink plenty water (distilled) Do not drink tap water b/c it is full of heavy metals, distilled is like rainwater, pure and clean.
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