The Pharisee Question and the Visit of the Sheikh: When the Spirit-Behind-Religion Test Came to the Living Room

By: Thomas Lee Abshier, ND

Date: May 17, 2026

Fellowship Discussion Summary | May 17, 2026

Occasion: This was the Sunday following the May 10 fellowship that produced the Christian Underground synthesis and the subsequent week of theological-production work (the eschatology essay on enduring the trial, the civil-obedience essay engaging Reid’s Romans 13, the Islam reading list compiled for the planned Sherman Zoom dialogue, and the postscript on interfaith witness and the liberty in Christ). Charlie had skimmed the week’s output and arrived with a piercing question about the Mormonism discussion. Leonard joined for substantial portions of the first hour before having to depart to help his wife. Armond arrived early and stayed through the post-meeting debrief. Approximately one hour and twenty-three minutes into the meeting, Michael Sherman appeared on the call with a guest — Sheikh Ra Sadiq of the Moorish Science Temple of America. What followed was a real-world stress test of the spirit-behind-religion framework that the fellowship had been developing — twice in one meeting, once with Leonard, and once with the Sheikh, each presenting in his own way the structural shape of a serious adult-formed adherent of a mono-vocal religious tradition.

This summary attempts a complete account of what was discussed, in roughly the order it was discussed, with my own reflections marked as such. The meeting was rich enough that this summary runs longer than usual. Length is in service of completeness; this Sunday merits the full record.

I. Charlie Reopens the Mormonism Thread

The meeting opened with the usual small talk and check-ins, and then Charlie immediately drew the conversation back to the previous week’s Mormonism discussion. He had skimmed the essay I had circulated but, by his own admission, had not read it carefully. Saturday is a workday for me, he said, and the rest of the week is workdays too, except Sunday — which is the day he needed to read it by. So he came in with a paraphrased understanding of what I had written, and his paraphrase was honest and pointed: Is the gist that you agree with Leonard on most things, except for the need for a restoration and the restoration itself? And that you actually consider Leonard’s position a dangerous one that threatens his relationship with God?

I tried to answer the question more carefully than Charlie’s request invited. In short, I can detect no substantive difference between Leonard’s beliefs about what the Bible says, the way to salvation, the contents of a Godly life, the meaning and significance of Jesus’ suffering, death, and resurrection. I believe he holds the proper posture, attitude, belief, practice, and thought to please God and enjoy the forgiveness of sin and reconciliation with God.

If there is a distinction between Leonard and me, it is on another axis. That difference is how he holds the Book of Mormon. As far as I can tell, he holds the BOM at a level equal to, or more likely, superior to the Bible. He believes that there was a need to restore what was lost in the Bible — material lost through the erosion of the sands of time, intentional or inadvertent deletion, or the addition of inauthentic text.

I believe that God can do sufficient work with the small portion of the record of the law, prophets, psalms, gospels, epistles, and revelation that has been delivered to modernity, regardless of the imperfection of the transmission.

As a point of clarification and classification, I believe the Book of Mormon should be called a new revelation, rather than a restoration. Neither I nor anyone knows what the original was, so we cannot determine whether the Book of Mormon — which was revealed by Moroni to Joseph Smith and from Jesus to Denver Snuffer — was a restoration of an original revelation or a new revelation. We can say for certain that they are new revelations to us. We rely on the testimony of Joseph Smith and Denver Snuffer that these are, in fact, the originals that were lost and were hence restored by a divine messenger, as they reported. I think this framing is more practical and honest.

As a trivial observation, the BOM is not identical to the Bible. It has more or less detail in stories that both report. There are other stories that are completely new. I would call the BOM a book of historical metaphors, a book of life lessons illustrated by stories. I don’t believe Leonard’s salvation is in jeopardy, but I don’t have the knowledge of God’s inner thoughts and standards to make that judgment. My concern is that Leonard is following the revelations of two men, Joseph Smith and Denver Snuffer. We do not know for certain who the spirit was that delivered these revelations — it might have been Moroni for Joseph Smith and Jesus for Denver Snuffer. The fact is that we don’t know that for certain. We cannot independently verify their story. But that is their story, and the spirit may or may not be who they thought it was. The bottom line is that it was their personal contact, and it is their testimony as a man.

The average Mormon believes the BOM’s revelations of Joseph Smith, and Leonard believes the testimony of Joseph Smith and Denver Snuffer to be of equal or greater authority than the Bible, in the sense that they are more complete and truer / less distorted. Leonard gives greater credence and authenticity to the BOM when there is a conflict between the two. This is the key point of my counsel and confrontation. Leonard has placed the BOM as the point of spiritual perfection, leadership, and authority. In effect, the BOM is the pattern that he is using to pattern himself. It is my thesis that the leader and the scripture one chooses as one’s authority — one’s ideal — will shape one in its image.

A note on terminology — the mono-vocal / multi-vocal spectrum

I want to introduce the framework I have been working with for distinguishing religions by the structure of their authoritative sources, because it has clarified for me what the actual disagreement with Leonard’s position is. In earlier framings, I had been using a binary — guru-religions on one side, biblical Christianity on the other. I have come to think that binary is too sharp. A spectrum is more accurate, and the spectrum runs from mono-vocal on one end to multi-vocal on the other.

At the mono-vocal end sit religions whose authoritative content originates from a single living human teacher or prophet — what is classically called the guru-disciple relationship in the Hindu and Buddhist traditions, the living-prophet movements in their first generation, the personal-revelation traditions where one person reports one set of received teachings and the community organizes around that report. The religion’s credibility depends entirely on the credibility of its single human medium. The content of the religion is based on whatever the medium reports. The spiritual life of the disciple is, in a real sense, vassalage to the spirit that speaks through the medium.

At the multi-vocal end sits biblical Christianity. Sixty-six books. Dozens of human authors writing across roughly four thousand years. Many genres — law, history, prophecy, wisdom, psalmody, gospel, epistle, apocalyptic — each contributing a different angle on the one God and his one redemptive work culminating in Christ. The central figure of Christ, the logos incarnate, is himself one voice within this multi-vocal canon. His recorded teaching is comparatively brief — a few thousand words at most, scattered across four gospels each written from a different angle. The biblical revelation is the cumulative testimony of many witnesses over many centuries, with the Holy Spirit doing the internal application work for each believer who comes to it.

So in this taxonomy, Christianity is not a non-guru religion. Jesus is the guru, the teacher, the rabbi, the master whose claims we are following. Christianity is, in this structural sense, a guru-religion. But Christianity is the most multi-vocally diluted guru-religion. The single voice of Jesus has been refracted through prophetic anticipation across two millennia before his coming, through the eyewitness apostolic testimony of his immediate disciples, through Pauline theological elaboration, through Johannine mystical penetration, through Petrine pastoral exhortation, through James’s practical wisdom, through the historical and apocalyptic literature of both Testaments. The guru-imprint is diffused — by the four-thousand-year breadth of the canon, by the diversity of authors, by the multiplicity of genres, by the centuries of fulfillment between prophecy and accomplishment, by the dozens of independently composed manuscripts that converge on a single redemptive story — to the point where the recipient is not bound to any single human medium. He is in conversation with a multi-vocal witness, and the Holy Spirit applies it personally to the student, seeker, follower, and disciple.

In between these two ends of the spectrum sit the various intermediate religions, including Mormonism. Mormonism uses the biblical canon as its reconciliation framework — it accepts the Bible’s account of God, creation, fall, Christ, atonement — and adds to it a layer of post-apostolic single-revelator deposit (Joseph Smith’s translation of the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, the Pearl of Great Price, and, within particular sub-traditions, the further revelations of Denver Snuffer). The Mormon is therefore in a hybrid position: he holds the multi-vocal biblical witness as foundation, but he attaches to it a mono-vocal personal-revelation deposit that becomes operatively authoritative in his life. He is, structurally, partway along the spectrum from biblical Christianity toward the mono-vocal end. The further he moves toward giving the mono-vocal deposit operative supremacy over the multi-vocal canon, the further along the spectrum he travels.

The institutional layer — a separate axis

The mono-vocal / multi-vocal axis is one dimension of the religious taxonomy. A separate dimension concerns the institutional layer that develops after the founding prophet or teacher. When the founder is dead, and his immediate disciples have passed, an institution typically arises to enforce the purity of the original teaching and to mediate the relationship between the founder’s deposit and successive generations of adherents. The institution can be more brutal than the founder ever was.

Catholicism’s medieval Inquisition and contemporary expectations of doctrinal conformity operate at a level of institutional control that no first-century apostolic figure ever exercised over the early Church. The Sunni-jurist tradition codified Quranic teaching into the elaborate Sharia of Reliance of the Traveller and the equivalent classical legal manuals that go far beyond what Muhammad himself ever specified. The Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of the Jehovah’s Witnesses exercises governance over individual lives that Charles Taze Russell did not specify. The LDS Church’s institutional structure — which Leonard himself recognizes is, in important respects, not specified in Joseph Smith’s original vision — operates with disciplinary authority Joseph Smith himself never wielded. The pattern recurs: the founder dies, the message stabilizes, the institution rises around the stabilized message, and the institution begins to discipline its adherents in ways the founder did not.

The institutional layer is a separate concern from the mono-vocal vs. multi-vocal source question. A religion can be mono-vocal in source and tyrannical in institution (post-Muhammad Sunni Islam, post-Joseph-Smith institutional Mormonism). A religion can be mono-vocal in its source and non-tyrannical in its institutions. Leonard’s Denver Snuffer movement is an instance of this latter case: the living prophet is hands-off, the institutional structure is very loose, the disciples are not subject to the kind of life-management control that, say, an LDS bishopric or a Salafi imam exercises. A religion can also be multi-vocal in its sources and tyrannical in its institutions — Catholicism is the clearest example, where the multi-vocal canon is overlaid by an institutional magisterium that has historically been highly controlling. The two dimensions are independent. The Christian assessment of a particular religion has to take both into account separately.

For Leonard specifically, this dual analysis is useful. His living prophet, Denver Snuffer, is not inclined toward theological tyranny; the institution around him is loose; Leonard is not subject to the kind of disciplinary structure that constrains rank-and-file LDS members. Leonard is in a relatively benign institutional position. But the mono-vocal source question remains: Leonard is still attaching his spiritual discipline and beliefs to the testimony of a single human medium (Denver Snuffer and, behind Denver Snuffer, Joseph Smith) who reports a single set of received teachings. The mono-vocal validation problem — that the medium’s testimony can only be validated from within — remains operative even where the institutional layer is benign.

Validation at the mono-vocal end is structurally weak

When a person follows a single living guru or a single post-apostolic revelator, the criterion of validation is some version of he said it, I believe it, I am following him because it sounds right to my mind and resonates in my heart. The internal witness — what the biblical writers call the still small voice (1 Kings 19:12), what Christians call the Holy Spirit’s confirmation, what mystics across many traditions call inner knowing — is doing the load-bearing work. That internal witness must be present; without it, the disciple has no anchor at all, and the religious life is mere social convention. But the internal witness alone is not sufficient. It must correspond to reality external to the disciple’s own consciousness.

A common early phenomenon in new religious movements is what I call the first one is free. The new adherent experiences a striking miracle, an answered prayer, an unmistakable spiritual touch in the early days of his commitment to the new tradition. The miracle confirms to him that the tradition is true. But miracles do not by themselves validate a tradition’s claims. Demons can produce miraculous-seeming events (Matt 7:22, 2 Thess 2:9-10, Rev 13:13-14). Charismatic frauds can stage the appearance of miracles. The first miracle is not enough. The corpus of the tradition’s fruit over time — across many adherents, across many years, across many testable predictions about what holy living produces — is what bears the weight of validation. And one of the more objective criteria available within that corpus is the test of freedom in Christ (Gal 5:1, John 8:36, 2 Cor 3:17). Does the tradition leave its adherents in genuine liberty under God, or does it bind them into restrictions that the canonical witness of the Bible itself does not require? The freedom-test is one of the cleaner external referents for evaluating any mono-vocal source’s claim to authoritative status. Other external referents include converging biblical-textual consistency, fulfilled prophecy across long time-horizons, the moral and intellectual character of the tradition’s saints, the historical record of how the tradition’s institutional embodiments have treated dissenters and outsiders, and the question of whether the tradition’s claims can be cross-checked against general revelation — the testimony of nature, the structure of human nature, the moral law written on the heart, and the increasingly clear results of physical science.

These external referents are what make the multi-vocal canon’s claim to authority structurally stronger than the mono-vocal guru’s claim. The biblical witness, taken as a whole, has been cross-checked against fulfilled prophecy across centuries, against the historical events its eyewitness writers reported, against the moral law universal to human conscience, against the testimony of the saints across twenty centuries of the Church’s history, and against the structural features of creation that bear God’s signature. The mono-vocal guru, by contrast, has only his own testimony plus whatever institutional pressure his successors apply. The validation surface area is dramatically smaller.

The optimal-liberty criterion

The framework above has a practical decision-rule attached for the Christian who is evaluating which tradition to follow. The criterion is twofold: (1) does the tradition bring the adherent into a reconciled relationship with God, and (2) does it optimize freedom — that is, does it limit the believer’s liberty no more than necessary to bring him into and sustain that reconciled relationship?

In the case of Christian traditions broadly — Catholic, Orthodox, Lutheran, Reformed, Anglican, Baptist, Pentecostal, Anabaptist, and so on — all of them embrace the Bible as authoritative and accept the gospel’s account of reconciliation through Christ’s atoning death and resurrection. On the first criterion, all of these traditions are equal: each brings the believer into a reconciled relationship with God through the same gospel. The distinction between denominations therefore turns on the second criterion: how much liberty does each tradition leave to the believer? Which denomination’s doctrines and practices respect the freedom we have in Christ with the minimum unnecessary restriction?

Of course, if a tradition’s foundational claims about Christ’s atoning work are eliminated or rendered insufficient — if grace is overlaid or displaced by works-righteousness, if the cross is treated as inadequate to reconcile, if the believer is told that his standing before God depends on his performance of religious labor — then the tradition has reverted to a works-based form. Such a system is both ineffective (it cannot produce the reconciliation it promises through human effort) and freedom-limiting (it loads the believer with the unending burden of trying to be good enough). Various religions across the world operate on this works-based structure, including some that adopt biblical or biblically-adjacent vocabulary; each of these deserves its own careful and respectful engagement on its own terms.

In Mormonism’s case, the religion falls within the broad category of biblical traditions, since it uses the Bible’s framework for reconciliation with God. The distinction between Mormonism and other denominations is therefore initially about which dos and don’ts should be followed in the Bible — this is the standard kind of denominational distinction. But because Mormonism follows additional non-Biblical scripture, the further question is to what extent these extra-Biblical texts regulate the believer’s behavior, and whether those additional regulations exceed what the Bible itself requires.

In Mormon practice, the Bible is generally placed on a spectrum from equal stature with the BOM to a subservient appendage of, or outdated precursor to, the newer “restored” revelations in the BOM, which are considered to be more complete or reliable. Mormonism is thus a biblical religion with a guru intermediary (Joseph Smith) who reported a vision with Moroni that corrected errors and filled in missing stories, background, and instructions that, on his account, had been lost from the Bible. In the case of the Denver Snuffer sub-tradition, there is a secondary revelator who met Jesus personally and received what he understands as the same message Joseph Smith received, thereby further correcting, elaborating on, and clarifying Joseph Smith’s restoration.

The question is then: what is the harm or consequence of following a later-day restoration or new revelation? Two answers.

First, there is the risk of collision with the Bible’s own warnings against false prophets and new Christs. Matthew 24:23-24 and 2 Corinthians 11:13-15 are direct: false prophets and false Christs will arise, with sufficient signs and wonders to deceive even the elect if it were possible. The biblical witness anticipates the very phenomenon Mormonism instantiates.

Second, and more structurally, the fact that the new revelation came from a single man rather than from four thousand years of multivocal revelation means that the message has been collapsed from broad parallax into the single voice of a guru. Any pattern of follow me, do this, don’t do that, here is the certainty, here is the program is narrower, more crystalline, and more specific than the broad spectrum of perspectives presented by the multi-vocal canon. The revelation of a single voice can work against the creation’s purpose of producing free souls capable of loving God from genuine freedom rather than from external dictation.

In some mono-vocal religious systems, the living guru’s voice becomes specific, life-directing, and the basis of theological tyranny — not necessarily oppressive in a political sense, but oppressive in the sense of having one’s life delegated to another person’s spiritual leading rather than walking it out one’s self under the Spirit. The believer becomes, in some sense, a clone of the revelator, subject to the revelator’s spiritual leading. The multi-vocal Bible offers a parallax view of the possibilities of life; from those various guide-stars the believer makes his own decisions. The biblical multivocality and the Spirit’s individualized application make it possible to retain genuine personal responsibility for one’s character development, because the canon offers options rather than directions. Even when it gives instructions, the voice of the canon (refracted through the Spirit’s internal application) functions as an advisor rather than as a command.

This is the spirit-behind-religion principle restated in the language of the spectrum. Mormonism, as a religion partway down the spectrum toward the mono-vocal end, attaches a layer of restrictions and prescriptions that is narrower than the biblically-guided life. The question is whether the Mormon lives a better life because he has additional revelation, or a more restricted life because the additional revelation narrows his options. The biblical foundation is the same; what is added is constraint. The honest question is whether the constraint serves him or limits him beyond what is necessary for his reconciliation with God.

My counsel to Leonard, in summary: if you find value in the Book of Mormon, hold it as literature, as interesting ideas, as the testimony of two men — Joseph Smith and Denver Snuffer — who reported what they reported. Take it as one possible perspective among many. Make sure not to make it the perspective. If you are following the BOM as literature and as one source of insight while the Bible remains your pinnacle, you are not denying central Christian doctrine in any obvious way. But if the BOM becomes operatively authoritative over the Bible — if, when the two conflict, you side with the BOM — then you have moved further toward the mono-vocal end of the spectrum than the Christian framework can sustain, and the spirit imprinting itself on your soul through the medium of Joseph Smith and Denver Snuffer is no longer the same as the Spirit testifying through the multi-vocal canon’s witness to Christ. The danger I refer to is not damnation, in any direct sense. It is more subtle than that. It is about the character one develops over time when one’s spiritual life is shaped by a single human medium rather than by the broader, more parallax-rich witness God has provided.

II. The Pharisee Question

Charlie heard me out and then asked the question that turned out to be the load-bearing question of the entire first hour of the meeting:

What is the difference in your mind between the attitude you advocate and the attitude of the Jews and Pharisees and why they would reject Christ?

He pressed the question with a precise formulation:

A very simplistic view of what you said is that what God has revealed and what was recorded in the Bible is adequate. No more gurus allowed at this point. But how is that different than what the Pharisees said — that we are of Moses, and we have the law, and here we are, and this upstart, just another one of many, calls himself the Messiah? They rejected Jesus. How is their rejecting Jesus different than your rejecting Joseph Smith?

Charlie is correct — there is, structurally, something parallel between the Pharisees’ canonical reverence for the Mosaic deposit and a closed-canon Protestant rejection of post-apostolic revelation. Both positions hold that the deposit they have is sufficient and that no new revelator is needed. Both can be used to dismiss a genuine messenger from God.

My answer comes down to one thing: the Spirit’s internal witness, combined with the external referents available to a multi-vocal canon. The only way a person can distinguish a true messenger from a false one, at the moment of confrontation with the messenger’s claim, is by the Spirit speaking within and confirming or refusing to confirm — Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God (Matt 16:16) was Peter’s confession, and Jesus’s response was that flesh and blood had not revealed it to him, but the Father in heaven. The internal witness is what makes Peter’s confession authoritative. Without that internal witness, no external argument can settle the question of who is sent from God and who is not.

The Pharisees had the Mosaic law, but did not have the incarnate Christ present in their hearing by the Spirit’s witness. Their hearts were closed; the Spirit’s confirmation was unavailable to them; therefore, when the Son of God stood before them, they could not recognize him. The text of Matthew 23 makes the diagnosis specific — they were sons of those who killed the prophets, and their fathers’ rejection-pattern continued in them. Critically, the Pharisees also failed the external-referent test that was actually available to them: Jesus himself argued from their own multi-vocal canon (Luke 24:27, John 5:39) that the Hebrew Scriptures testified to him. The texts they revered already pointed to the Messiah they were rejecting. Their rejection was therefore not a faithful application of a closed canon; it was a closed-hearted refusal of what their canon was actually saying.

The Christian who today says no more new authoritative revelators is making a structurally different claim from the Pharisees’, if and only if the Christian’s saying is rooted in the Spirit’s internal witness, combined with attention to the external referents the multi-vocal canon actually contains. If I were rejecting Joseph Smith merely because I happen to have been raised on the Bible and not on the Book of Mormon, I would have no real ground for the rejection beyond cultural attachment, and Charlie’s parallel would hold. But if I am rejecting Joseph Smith because (1) the Spirit who has confirmed Jesus Christ to me has not confirmed Joseph Smith to me, and has, instead, when I try to listen for it, given me an unease about Joseph Smith’s claims, and (2) the multi-vocal canon’s own external-referent witness — fulfilled prophecy, converging eyewitness testimony, the moral coherence of the gospel, the historical pattern of how single-revelator innovations have unfolded over time — does not validate Joseph Smith’s report in the way the canon’s own internal evidence validates Christ, then the rejection is of a categorically different kind from the Pharisees’ rejection of Jesus.

This is, of course includes the subjectivity of one’s spirit, but It is an honest answer about the limits of what can be argued from outside the Spirit’s witness. Charlie heard it. We moved on, but that is the question every new believer must answer. Why believe the Bible instead of every new shiny religion? To me, the best answer is the very fact that both Mormonism and Christianity are biblically based. If a person does not get a clear internal witness for one or the other, go with the Bible because of the multi-vocal-vs-mono-vocal argument: the multi-vocal canon has structurally more external-referent validation available to it than the mono-vocal innovation does. That is simply a structural feature of the two kinds of authority.

Does it matter if someone delivers a revelation that they are convinced came from God, and does not contradict the Bible, but adds additional revelation that makes the Bible more understandable or clear in its direction? The answer is yes. I think it matters because I believe God wants us to grow into full spiritual maturity in the liberty of Christ. When other revelators offer clarity, they also reduce liberty. If we are told what the right answer is, not from a parent or teacher, but from what we are told is divine authority, and never wrestle with the problem in life because we have the answer, we do not grow. The predigested religion, where the guru tells us all the specifics of what to do/not do in life, subtly removes freedom. I don’t know all the specifics of Mormonism, but from Charlie’s experience, he found it very controlling. I don’t know how much of this is institutional invention, and how much was channeled through the revelators, but it is exactly the kind of restrictions that are the marks of a predigested, mono-vocal religion.

The fact that Mormonism was introduced as it was — through a single young man in upstate New York in the 1820s, reporting a single set of visions, with the claim that the Christian Church for eighteen hundred years had been operating under corrupted scripture and false authority — could plausibly be a trick of the adversary to pull people off the broad parallax-rich path of the biblical canon, where a person’s character is tested in many different ways through engagement with the diverse witnesses, onto a narrower path where the answers are clearer because they come from a single voice. As Charlie put it, Mormons have an answer for everything. That is precisely the symptom of a mono-vocal source. Single voices produce clear answers; multi-vocal canons produce wisdom forged in the wrestling with apparent tensions.

III. Leonard’s Return — Why No More Gurus? Why No More Scripture?

Leonard then pressed the question from a different angle.

I’m trying to understand what you’re trying to say in that — no more gurus. Let’s say no more scripture. Let’s say that the scripture, the book that we have, is also an idol — an idol that people follow.

I stopped him there, because his point was the same point Charlie had just made. The Pharisees had made the book an idol, a non-living record. The Christian who treats the Bible as a sealed deposit that excludes any further speaking and hearing of the Holy Spirit is treating the Bible as an idol. The idol is a human-crafted creation that neither hears nor speaks. It is lifeless. But this is not the Bible we were given. Within it is the spirit of life. Jesus specifically promised that He would send the Holy Spirit when He left. (John 15:26) “But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of me.” (John 14:16-17, John 14:26, John 16:7) If it were just a book, a prescription of what to believe and not believe, it would be an idol. But with the addition of the Holy Spirit, guiding us in the holy conduct of our daily lives, this is a living Word. If it had only the rigid-canon position, which excluded the Holy Spirit, and was only the words of a prophet, it would be dead. We don’t need another prophet. What we have recorded in the Bible is sufficient. We have a record of the words spoken under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit over 4,000 years by prophets who heard God’s voice. We have the record of what Jesus, the incarnate form of God, said. We have the witness of Paul, who was taken into Heaven and testified to what He saw and knew from that perspective. The triangulate, they are non-contradictory with each other. The Words of the Bible are sufficient. They give us a broad spectrum of the Holy Spirit’s character as spoken in many different situations. It is multi-vocal; it gives us a broad spectrum of words the Holy Spirit may speak to our hearts in many different situations. The written word is a pattern-matching codex. It is not the full transcription of all things the Holy Spirit has ever said or can say; it is a pattern that is a sufficiently broad spectrum representation of his voice to be able to recognize His voice. If the voice of the conscience, the still small voice, contradicts this voice, it is another spirit.

Then Leonard said, I think Christians need to look in the mirror too. It looks like Christians have made an idol out of the canonized Bible. What is the difference between the Pharisees making an idol out of the Old Testament and modern-day Christians making an idol out of the canonized Old and New Testaments?

In response, I replied: the Old Testament was incomplete, and they were worshipping it as though it were complete. The OT by itself says that it is not. It was awaiting the Messiah’s coming. When the Messiah came, their hearts were hard, and they could not hear the voice of the holy spirit.

Then Leonard said, “And another thing, does God change? Has He ever changed His way of working with His children, with His creation? Why wouldn’t He continue in the same process that He’s had for the last four thousand years — to reveal Himself through servants that He chooses?”

My reply was that His nature is unchanging, and His plan for salvation never changed. I know you asked the question to show that the Bible shows how God changes over time. You were attempting to justify the argument that if God gave progressive revelations (changed the amount of knowledge He had revealed over time), why wouldn’t He continue to give additional revelations through prophets such as Joseph Smith and Denver Snuffer?

Obviously, there were many changes in circumstances over time. In response to the various changes, He changed the way He communicated with His people. He walked with Adam and Eve in the Garden; then He spoke with Moses on the mount, from the cloud, and at the burning bush. He changed His mind about destroying the Israelites and repented when Moses rebuked Him. Prophets revealed new information about the Messiah, about God’s wrath, or the need to repent. God told Adam he would have to work by the sweat of his brow, but God fed the Israelites with Manna. He allowed His people to be ruled by judges, and then by kings when the people petitioned. God gave the Law to Moses, but Jesus came and fulfilled it. John received a final revelation on the Isle of Patmos. There was progressive revelation from Adam to Christ, which we see referenced in Hebrews 1:1–2 “In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets… but in these last days He has spoken to us by His Son.” And in Jude 3 we see a description of “The faith once for all delivered to the saints. In these verses, we do not see a Biblical opening for additional revelation regarding salvation. And given that Christ was the author and the executor of His plan for salvation, His words testify of His finished work on the cross.

So, in answer to your question about whether God changed in any way over time, the answer is emphatically yes: God has changed His response to His people in light of the circumstances of their lives. He gave new revelations to prophets over the years about the need for repentance and the coming Messiah. But the real question with regard to the Smith/Snuffer revelation, is whether a change was needed to complete His plan for the salvation of men’s souls? Was the Biblical revelation incomplete, erroneous, or otherwise unsatisfactory in enabling the seeker to transit the journey from sinner/unbeliever to redeemed/man of faith?

Was what was missing a new revelation about the right church to go to that had the full message? If so, what message it that Smith/Snuffer supplied? Was there a missing piece in the organization of the Church that was necessary to provide assistance to the soul seeking salvation? Was the configuration of the temple important to provide the spiritual atmosphere or resonance with the prototypical temples that Moses and Solomon built to facilitate worship, hearing God, or providing the atmosphere where God would come. Did we need a revelation about what clothing to wear, what rituals to do in the temple, what ceremonies were needed with regard to marriage, how to relate to our ancestors, or knowledge of the heavenly  domains?  Is there anything in the apostolic revelation that is missing that is supplied by Smith/Snuffer that brings us more perfectly into salvation? Does that knowledge actually make a difference? Is there anything that could not be found in the Biblical testimony that the Smith/Snuffer revelation fills in, completes, and make effective for salvation and sanctification what was previously ineffective?

Are the Smith/Snuffer revelations necessary/required for the advancement of our souls in righteousness and relationship with the Father? From the outside, it seems that we are looking at revelations about spiritual structure, history, procedure, and organization. I don’t see the need for such revelation for salvation or living a Godly life. We have the Great Commandment, to love God, neighbors, and self. If we need a church for our salvation, then salvation by grace, belief, and living with Jesus as Lord is not enough. If the BOM is a new revelation regarding what is necessary for salvation, then that is a different Gospel, and the Bible is superseded. If so, the Bible was simply incomplete and should be subservient/minor/dependent upon the new revelation that includes these necessary elements.

Can I prove that the Bible is sufficient for salvation and living the best and most Godly life? I cannot. Can I prove that the BOM is unnecessary and that there are no gaps missing in the Bible? No, I cannot. I can only look at the logical structure of the Bible, and what the BOM fills in. I don’t know the BOM in detail, so I can’t tell you whether the BOM fills a missing gap or not, so I will leave that for your search and discrimination to inform me of the necessary revelation by Smith/Snuffer that fills in those missing/distorted/incorrect parts of the Biblical canon.

I don’t know where all the rituals and organizational details of the Temple are recorded in the Mormon canon, but regardless, it appears that the revelators or the subsequent institution believed something was missing regarding the church. But if my impression that the church was included in the revelation of Smith/Snuffer, then I don’t think this revelation was a vital/necessary/essential/salvation-level-omission from the Biblical canon. I don’t think the organized church is a necessary element of salvation. The church is the body of believers who assemble to edify and fellowship. The church, as the body of believers, is the totality of the souls of men in whom the Lord lives in a meaningful way. The church is not in a temple made with hands, an organization, rituals, priests, or hierarchy. We have one mediator between God and man. There is no need for more revelation about the church rituals, meetings, organization, or buildings. These are external foci; the real work is internal — the heart, the soul, the daily walk with Christ under the Spirit’s leading.

Meeting with believers is important, whether to learn or teach. Gathering together in twos or a group to fellowship, witness, edify, or counsel, is integral to the process of spreading the gospel and discipleling. The Great Commission is the heart of church spreading, Matthew 28:19–20, “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost…” And Romans 10:14–15 “How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach, except they be sent?”  All that is needed is a preacher and a listener; no organization is required.

Regarding salvation, is there something missing in the Biblical canon? My opinion is that there is not. I see the fruit in the lives of people who have been touched by the Biblical revelation and followed its prescription for living. Smith asked, “Which is the right/true/best church?” The question should be, Who is the true God, and what should I do to access the fullness of joy in a relationship with Him? I believe the Bible answers that question. I think what the apostles received was sufficient for salvation and the instruction in living a life pleasing to God. The needed instruction in life is available through the Holy Spirit, and salvation is accomplished on the cross by His substitutionary death and suffering, in His receiving the wrath of God at our sin, as the payment of the debt rendered when He became sin for us. I don’t think anything was missing or lost that needed to be revealed to a young man in 1820 to reveal what was missing. To use the Mormon term, I don’t think there was anything lost that needed to be restored. I think God’s plan for salvation was recorded and reported adequately by the apostles. I think God’s plan for salvation remained unchanged from the beginning. That is, God’s plan has not changed from the time when the Father and Son planned the creation of the universe. From that time on, He was the lamb slain from the foundation of the world (Revelation 13:8). If the Biblical plan was inadequate for salvation, and the Mormon revelation filled it, then what specifically are those missing elements that were supplied?

All the changes that were recorded in the OT and NT were fundamentally procedural. If Joseph Smith received more information about what was necessary for salvation, then his revelation fundamentally changes His message, His purpose, and His character.

The argument that “nothing was missing” from the apostolic gospel rests on the sufficiency of grace through faith, and as we see in James, that faith is reflected/shown/known by works. The Biblical record declares that the whole of Christ’s atoning work on the Cross, received by faith, is itself the whole of what is necessary for salvation. The promised indwelling Spirit that guides each man to sanctification is likewise revealed in the Biblical record.

I am sure a serious Mormon interlocutor would not deny that grace is necessary. But he would deny that grace alone (with the accompaniment of the indwelling Spirit as revealed by the apostolic Scripture) is sufficient. He would say that ordinances, temple sealings, priesthood authority, and continuing prophetic revelation are also necessary, layered atop grace. The disagreement, in other words, is not whether grace is necessary but whether anything else is also necessary. I hold to sola fide — salvation by grace through faith alone (Eph 2:8-9). And that faith implies obedience to the leading of the Holy Spirit, John 16:13 “Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth…”. The fruit of the Spirit seen in the lives of men is the evidence of the argument that nothing was missing in the apostolic revelation. A reader who does not share that conviction will have to engage the sola fide question first, before the canon-closure argument can land. I flag it here so the structure of my argument is visible.

An argument central to the Mormon justification of being open to other prophets is that the Bible itself records God working through servant after servant, many of them rejected, and ultimately his Son is rejected and killed, as seen in the parable and in His life and crucifixion. It is Leonard’s contention that there is no clear scriptural warrant for the claim that this pattern of continuuing revelation has now permanently stopped. But this is not true. The Bible very clearly states (Revelation 22:18–19): “For I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the prophecy of this book, If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book: And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life…” It could be argued that this warning applies only to John’s Revelation and not to Paul’s epistles or the gospels. The phrase “this book” in context refers specifically to Revelation, not the entire Bible. However, because Revelation is the final book in the canonical order and contains a warning against adding to or subtracting from it, the early church treated it as a functional “closing seal” on Scripture. While no other NT verse explicitly says “the canon is closed,” several passages reinforce the idea that:

• The apostolic witness is once-for-all delivered (Jude 3),
• The foundation is the apostles and prophets (Ephesians 2:20),
• No later teachings may contradict the apostolic gospel (Galatians 1:8–9).

Of these three, Galatians 1:8-9 carries the strongest weight, because it is universal in address (not book-scoped, as Rev 22 can be read as being) and comes from undisputed apostolic authority. Paul writes to the Galations: “But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed. As we said before, so say I now again, If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.” Paul is anticipating exactly the scenario of a later angel-mediated revelation supplementing or replacing the apostolic gospel, and he instructs the church to reject it. The Mormon claim of an angel-Moroni-mediated restoration is structurally exactly the scenario Paul has in view. Paul’s instruction is to reject it, even if it comes from an angel from heaven.

The Bible also supplies its own criteria for testing a prophet’s claim. Deuteronomy 13:1-5 says that a prophet whose teaching draws people after other gods is to be rejected even if his signs and wonders come to pass, because the primary test is doctrinal consistency with prior revelation about God’s character. Deuteronomy 18:21-22 says that a prophet whose predictions do not come to pass is not from God. Both tests apply to any modern claimant, and Joseph Smith’s case is contested on both. His mature theology of God — eternal progression, plurality of gods, God as an exalted man (King Follett Discourse, 1844) — diverges substantially from the eternal, immutable, monotheistic God revealed in both Testaments. And some of his specific predictions did not come to pass as stated. The biblical tests for true prophethood do not unambiguously vindicate his claim.

Leonard took Christ’s warning about false prophets (Matt 7:15) to be a warning not to reject true prophets. He used the example of not counterfeiting a seven-dollar bill. You only counterfeit hundred-dollar bills because hundred-dollar bills exist. The problem with this argument is that the person who finds a latter-day prophet is not only obligated to be certain that he is not a false prophet but also that he is, in fact, a true prophet. I don’t consider a young man who prayed earnestly about which church was the true church in 1820, and had an angel answer his prayer (and later translated tablets that became the BOM) to be sufficient evidence that he was a true prophet.  But the deeper question is, why would this be necessary? Moroni told Joseph Smith that no church was the right church, in answer to his request for knowledge. But what evidence is there that Moroni was an angel from God? Even the prophet himself cannot know for certain the validity of his revelation. A man can testify that he actually had a vision, and we may judge whether he was speaking truthfully, but we have no measure to judge whether the source of that revelation is valid/trustworthy. A prophet can only testify to the truthfulness and actuality of his revelation; he cannot verify the divinity of the message he received. This is why the test of a prophet was that his prophecies were never wrong.

Leonard’s position is that the continuation of revelation goes through Joseph Smith, that there have been subsequent prophets and seers (the modern LDS line, or the breakaway Snufferite line, depending on which Mormon you are talking to), and that an open canon is the more biblically consistent posture than a closed one.

I am not a cessationist in the sense that I believe God has ceased all revelation to man. I am a cessationist in the sense that I believe God completed what was necessary for man to know to come to Him and accept the sacrifice of Christ for our sins. What Moroni told Joseph Smith may have been completely true, but it was not necessary for salvation or sanctification. I believe the Holy Spirit continues to speak to individual believers, counseling us in our sanctification. I believe He has spoken to me, and I have heard members of the fellowship make similar claims. We see clearly that Christ Himself promised that the Holy Spirit would come in John 16:7: “Nevertheless I tell you the truth; It is expedient for you that I go away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you.” We also see in John 14:16-17 (the promise of “another Comforter”), John 14:26 (the Spirit as teacher), and Acts 2 (the fulfillment at Pentecost). The Bible is clearly not without reference to God revealing His will to us in the moment, in our development, and in our communication.

The existence and claims of new revelations beg the question: what is missing? Did we really need to know about the Celestial, Terrestrial, and Telestial? The Bible already informs us of the general realms in biblical passages (1 Cor. 15:40-42). This verse is used to justify that their revelation is correct and Biblical. But is knowledge of the afterworld necessary? It’s interesting, but where we need to live, and live properly, is here on earth.

So, it is not that God has ceased speaking. What I am questioning is the elevation of any post-apostolic single-revelator deposit to the status of canonical scripture alongside or above the multi-vocal canon. The Christian who hears the Spirit’s leading internally and acts on it is not adopting a mono-vocal guru; he is hearing his Father’s voice as it applies the multi-vocal canon to his individual situation. The Christian who accepts another human being’s claimed received revelation as canonically binding has — whatever the content of the claim — bound himself to a particular spirit through a particular medium. That medium carries with it the signature of the revelator, which will skew and limit it, which will then imprint the follower. It is this distortion that binds him to that spirit; the binding moves him along the spectrum toward the mono-vocal end. The binding requires diagnostic care.

I had made the comment that if Mormonism were actually true and better, then I should consider being a Mormon. He had said that he believed in his prophet, but he was clear in his statement to me that converting me was not his intention. He said: I love you, and I don’t want you to change your allegiance — keep it with the Bible, keep it with Christ. That’s fine, really. I’m happy with that. I want you to be — to have an allegiance to the only one that can save you, and that’s not Joseph, it’s not Moroni, it’s not Nephi, it’s not Jeremiah, it’s not Isaiah, it’s not Paul — it’s Christ. That’s where we need to focus, and that’s our common ground. And he said it: We are all one in Christ, really, if you consider that He’s the only one that can save us.

I appreciated his expression of care, his allegiance, and his recognition of Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. From what I have heard so far, I don’t see Mormonism as significantly different from Christianity in the sense of worshipping another God or denying the Lordship of Jesus Christ, the necessity of accepting His gift of salvation, and living in His spirit. I am concerned about adding words to the testimony of the prophets and apostles from the vision of a man, given by an angel whose credentials we cannot verify, and giving it equal or greater weight than the Bible. My major concern is that it creates a spiritual connection through the human vessel, the angelic messenger, and ultimately to God. My reading of the Bible is that we have one mediator between God and man, Jesus Christ. I’m sure Leonard would object to that framing, because I don’t think he thinks that he is worshipping Moroni, Joseph Smith, or Denver Snuffer. And just to be clear, I am not saying that. I am saying that the teacher imprints the message with his personality and perspective. It’s unavoidable. I see Moroni/Joseph Smith/Denver Snuffer as spirits/channels/vessels of transfer that put their own signature on the transmission. This is unavoidable. The medium leaves an imprint on the message. The revelator/teacher/prophet leaves his signature on the message, and the message imprints the follower. It’s unavoidable.

But we need to keep theological discussions/debates in perspective on a human level. The real issue is human relationships. The content of our discussion is spiritual fine points. I think God realizes we are all going to get some things wrong in our conception of who He is and how to live life. The one thing that is really important is acceptance of Jesus’ gift of forgiveness for sin and adopting Him as Lord. I don’t think we need to have absolute doctrinal agreement to obtain salvation. But I do think we need to love each other as brothers in the faith, and I think love for each other includes attempting to convince/teach/challenge our brother in the Lord to see it in the way that each of us sees as the best understanding of life, love, and Godliness. To do otherwise is to hold back the greatest gift that we could give each other, a perfect pattern and understanding of life.

Based on my discussion with Leonard, I think these spiritual questions have earthly consequences. I think what we believe shapes our souls. If we have incorporated error into our fundamental belief system, it will have an effect on our character, our souls, our spirit, and what we take out of this world. I think this is an important fact of life, and we should accept it. But the more important point is to love one another. We can be right and be really unpleasant people. How we relate to each other is more important than being perfectly factual in everything we say/believe. A Mormon whose primary allegiance is to Christ, alongside a Protestant brother whose primary allegiance is to Christ, attempting to understand and convey their understanding to the other, is a wonderful opportunity for fellowship and for exercising speaking the truth in love. Disagreeing without being disagreeable is the foundation of the texture of the Christian Underground’s character. Sunday was a good demonstration of it.

IV. The Self-Validation Problem — And How I Came to Believe the Bible

In the middle of this exchange, a structural epistemic problem came to the surface that Leonard named and that I have to credit him for naming: every scripture validates itself. The Bible says it is true; the Book of Mormon says it is true; the Bhagavad Gita says it is true; the Quran says it is true. Each text comes with internal self-attestation. Each devotional community treats its text’s self-attestation as confirming.

If self-attestation is the only criterion, then it is no criterion. As Leonard put it after I made the point that the LDS internal-witness mechanism (the burning in the bosom of Moroni 10:4-5) is self-validating: Well, just like the Bible does. The Bible validates itself. And he is right that, if we are honest, the same epistemic move that I would dismiss in the Mormon case (the internal burning that confirms the Book of Mormon to a sincere reader) is the move I am making when I treat my own internal witness of the Bible as authoritative.

What I have come to think, and I said this at the time, is that no scripture can validate itself purely from within itself. Some external referent is required. Without an external referent, every text is hermetically sealed and self-confirming, and the choice between texts becomes a matter of which community one was raised in or which charismatic teacher one happened to encounter first. The multi-vocal canon has structurally more external-referent validation available to it than any mono-vocal source — but the external referents have to be actually engaged, not merely asserted. So let me say what the external referents were in my own case, because the testimony is part of why I hold the position I hold, and Sunday’s exchange with Leonard pressed me to say it more directly than I had before.

The March 1987 vision

In March 1987 I had a vision. It was actually a drug induced hallucination. It wasn’t to the point of seeing the walls move, just vivid inner imagery. I had my full faculties, but and the chemicals induced the looseness that allows for stronger, clearer imagination than normal. It was not a vague impression or a strong feeling; it was a picture and a flow of conscious awareness of what this picture meant. The same experience happened two nights in a row, two successive trips, which was unusual to have the same exact trip. It had never happened before. The first one was just a curiosity. The picture stayed the entire trip, which was unusual – it had never happened before. When the same picture came into consciousness on the second trip, I immediately suspected this was not just an altered state, I was open neurologically to the spirit realm, and God was using that to give me a message. It was then that the download happened. I was convinced that this message was being given to me from outside my own consciousness. I was being shown the symbol visually, but the message of what it meant was coming as words, inner thoughts, not audible, just the inner voice of thinking words, and it was telling me about the nature of reality on the subatomic/foundational scale of nature. I had been praying, in desperation, to know the meaning of life, who was the true God, after my 40 different religions I had inspected over the last few years. I had been asked to give a lecture, which I chose, called “Health and the Soul” which I code named, “Find God by Tuesday.” And sure enough, the prayer was answered well enough to know the direction to go in my exploration.

The implications were these. First, that the physics of the natural world would bear God’s signature — that the structure of matter, energy, space, and time would not merely be compatible with a Christian metaphysics but would actively testify to it when examined with sufficient care. Second, that the signature of God in the physics would match the testimony of God in the Bible — that the same divine reality which created the cosmos through the Son had also revealed himself in scripture, and that the two testimonies (creation and canon) would, when properly understood, converge rather than conflict. Third, that the human task was to engage in the work of pattern-matching between these two great witnesses, allowing what is shown in nature to confirm what is reported in scripture, and what is reported in scripture to illuminate what is shown in nature. I knew at the moment of the vision that this was the closest possible kind of proof a human being can be granted concerning God — not a proof imposed from outside that overrides the will, but a structured pattern of correspondence between independent witnesses that the rational mind can recognize as evidence and that the heart can recognize as testimony.

I want to be honest about what kind of vision this was and what kind it was not. It was not Joseph Smith’s First Vision. It did not include God the Father appearing visibly to me in a grove. It did not give me a new scripture to translate. It did not commission me as a prophet. What it did was orient me toward a particular line of investigation — that the physics of consciousness, properly worked out, would lead to a metaphysics that the Bible already contained in its own register — and I have spent the subsequent time, thirty-nine years as of this writing, working out that orientation.

What the work has shown

The physics work has, over those decades, produced what I now call the Conscious Point Physics. The framework of CPP holds that consciousness is fundamental rather than emergent — that the universe is made of conscious points, organized into dipole-point pairs, executing polarize-capture-depolarize cycles in a substrate that itself is conscious. The framework derives Standard Model results from a 600-cell polytope geometry at zero fitted parameters. The 600-cell polytope is one of the regular four-dimensional figures, with 120 vertices and 600 tetrahedral cells, exhibiting a particular geometric perfection that finite Euclidean space allows only at very few scales. The framework’s predictions — proton mass ratios, neutron lifetime, electroweak coupling, magic-strength nuclear binding energies, mixing angles in the neutrino sector — match observed values to within the precision of the measurements. The framework is presently in active development across roughly thirty papers, with multiple AI reviewers (Claude, ChatGPT, Copilot, Grok) cross-checking the derivations.

What the framework does, when I step back from the technical detail, is to show that the imprint of God in nature goes all the way down to the Conscious Point — that the universe is not impersonally mechanical with a deity attached at the top, but is consciousness organized through geometry, with consciousness itself being the ground rather than the consequence. The Conscious Point arises from God’s mind. The Son was likewise generated as a duplication of the mind of the Father, and this is why Jesus said, “The Father and I are one.” (Heb 1:1-3, John 1:1-3, Col 1:15-17) The Son was the agent through whom all things were made (John 1:3, Col 1:16). The CPP framework, which I did not invent so much as discover through almost four decades of study. It was my passion and interest to attempt to fit these seed observations into a pattern that gives mechanical explanation to what and why Matter Energy, Space, and Time act as they do. It ultimately resulted in a set of 4 types of Conscious Points, which attract and repel each other according to rules that produce all physical phenomena, (i.e., all the relativistic, quantum, particulate, and field effects that physics has identified).

This segues with the Bible. John 1:1-4, God’s mind/spirit declared the Son into existence (I AM that I AM). In the same manner, the Son gave existence to the Conscious Points as mind points-of-view (That Is). The Conscious Points are the underlying mind-substance that gives apparent solid existence to the physical universe. The source of every point of consciousness is the mind of God; therefore, He experiences the entire universe. He enjoys the experience when love of self and neighbor are freely given and experienced. He feels love when we choose to follow His way/His moral code. When we live His way, in His universe, He experiences love. What the Bible reports about God corresponds with what nature speaks. The same consciousness underlying the Conscious Points that form the substrate of the physical universe animates our hearts, minds, soul, spirit, and God Himself.

The convergence runs deep. The underlying substance composing matter, energy, space, and time is generated and sustained by the Son. He is the chief cornerstone, the foundation of creation. The physics is not separated from value, purpose, and meaning, because the substrate allows the formation of the created order, which in turn supports moral agents capable of loving God by choice. The connection between physics, ethics, and the meaning of life is direct. God created a world with morally significant choices at the level of human consciousness; the physics support the vessels where those choices have the consequence of pain and pleasure, association and dissociation. The physics supports the substance, which supports the play of moral agents who express their love of God by choosing to live according to God’s character. The free-will argument that Armond would later defend when talking with the Sheikh on Sunday is not merely an abstract metaphysical consideration or debating point; it is the foundational process that gives relationship meaning.

The historical witness

The CPP framework is one external referent, and a particular kind that most believers do not have access to. But they have other kinds, and the other kinds are also genuine.

The historical witness is one. God showed his hand to the Jewish people over thousands of years, in particular events and through particular prophets, building up a record of revelation that culminates in the incarnation. The prophetic anticipation of the Messiah is itself a kind of miracle — the predictions across many centuries (Genesis 3:15, Genesis 12:3, Genesis 49:10, Numbers 24:17, 2 Samuel 7:12-13, Isaiah 7:14, Isaiah 9:6, Isaiah 11:1-2, Isaiah 53, Daniel 7:13-14, Daniel 9:24-27, Micah 5:2, Zechariah 9:9, Zechariah 12:10, Malachi 3:1-3, and many more) converging on a single figure who appeared in first-century Israel. The prophecies are external referents; their fulfillment in Christ is verifiable in principle (the Old Testament texts were complete and in wide circulation before the events of the gospels); the converging witness of multiple independent prophets across multiple centuries is the kind of evidence no mono-vocal innovation can produce.

John the Baptist testified to the coming of the King. The four gospel writers gave four independent accounts of his life and ministry from four different angles. The apostles spread the message across the Roman Empire, were persecuted and killed for it, and left behind a documented historical record of a community that arose from nothing and transformed civilization. The resurrection is the load-bearing claim, attested by hundreds of eyewitnesses (1 Cor 15:3-8), proclaimed in Jerusalem within weeks of the event, with the empty tomb available for inspection and the living disciples available for cross-examination. The historical case for the resurrection has been worked over by scholars for two thousand years and still stands as a serious, defensible claim about what actually happened in first-century Jerusalem.

The death and resurrection were not just historical events; they are the spiritual-physical hinge where the battle against evil swung, and good established its beachhead against the ruler of this world. Good and evil are a polarity, and the capitulation of Adam and Eve to the temptation of Satan gave him legal claim to dominion. Good has the attractive power of long-term gain but evil holds the greater immediate flesh-attraction. As such, Satan is a worthy competitor for the hearts of men. God’s deepest satisfaction comes when men, in the face of evil’s strong immediate pull, set aside the pleasures of sin and choose to love, obey, and live for him. The Cross is the demonstration of God’s love and desire to reconcile the world to himself; it is also the moral pattern the believer is invited to follow (Phil 2:5-11, 1 Pet 2:21). The whole architecture of moral reality is exhibited at Golgotha.

God provided a way to reconcile His total/unequivocal/never-changing rejection of evil with a relationship with sinful man. The cross is the only way into His presence; blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God (Matt 5:28). The purification available through the cross cannot be replaced by good works. The multi-vocal canon records the pathway that to make known that Jesus is the true Messiah, the creator of the world, the Lord of the universe, the good shepherd. The points of reference are numerous; the parallax is wide; the converging witness of the canon, the historical record, the moral evidence of transformed lives across twenty centuries, and (for those who have the eyes to see it) the structural signature of God in the physics of creation, all bear on the question of whether the biblical claim is true. By contrast, the mono-vocal guru offers a single point of view from a single human medium. His report is necessarily limited to what he can transmit in words — the serial, low-bandwidth medium of language. He can describe what he saw or experienced, but he cannot transmit the multi-channel, parallax-rich witness that the entire universe gives concerning the glory of God (Ps 19:1, Rom 1:20).

This is what the parallax argument comes down to. The multi-vocal canon, the testimony of creation, and the testimony of the heart gives the believer many independent lines of evidence that converge on the same conclusion. The mono-vocal guru gives one line. The believer who trusts the mono-vocal guru is trusting his internal-witness response to a single channel; the believer who trusts the multi-vocal canon is trusting his internal-witness response that has been informed by, and is anchored in, many channels at once. Both involve the internal witness; the difference is the surface area of the external referents the internal witness has been calibrated against.

I do not claim this is a knockdown public argument. I claim it is the honest account of why I hold the position I hold. The Spirit’s internal witness in me has been calibrated for decades against the converging external evidence — the historical, the moral, the physical, the prophetic, the experiential — and the calibration has produced settled conviction. When Leonard or the Sheikh or any other adherent of a mono-vocal tradition presents the authority of the prophet/revelation, I am not denying the sincerity or reality of the revelator’s experience; I am observing that his calibration has had access to fewer channels than the witness of the Biblical canon. I realize that the structural advantage of the multi-vocal canon is inductive, not deductive, and hence not a conclusive argument for truth. But from my perspective, it appears that complex/multi-factorial questions resolve only as probabilities rather than as deductive certainty. In other words, God spoke to man through many channels because it is not possible to transmit all truth decisively without collapsing the degrees of freedom that make faith, free will, and love possible in a universe that is governed by deterministic law. Thus, I offer the following framework to all seekers and people of faith; consider that all messengers/revelators have only one perspective from which they can speak. The Biblical canon offers many perspectives, all of which converge on a constellation of moral principles, and the parallax confirmed signature of truth about God’s purpose, and His nature (what He has defined as good and evil), His creation of a free-will universe where we, as god-like beings can choose to be in a peer-peer/parent-child, freely offered mutually sacrificial love relationship. The vast history of orchestrated coincidence is its own witness of truth, which leaves open the reasonable choice of doubt, rebellion, and choosing the world system, the self, the flesh as one’s lover. As such, I recommend consideration by all practitioners of all religions to embrace, use as a guide, elevate to the top of your hierarchy of evidence in the validation of Truth, the standard of moral perfection, and the vehicle by which God reveled His relationship with His creation and how to restore it.

The biblical canon, the historical record, the moral evidence, and the physical signature are the four converging witnesses that brought me to and have kept me in the Christian position. I would not have arrived here from any single one of them. I am here because all four converged.

V. Leonard’s Reframing — Gethsemane AND Cross, and the Psalm 22 Insight

In the first hour, where we discussed Mormonism and the relative merit of Biblical authority versus the revelation of Joseph Smith and Denver Snuffer, Leonard reframed Denver Snuffer’s Gethsemane account. This removed one of the objections which I held about Mormonism, as an incompatible/mutually exclusive to Christianity religion.

In last week’s discussion and in the essay I had written and circulated, I treated the Mormon (Joseph Smith-through-Denver Snuffer) account of the atonement as moving the redemptive event from the Cross to Gethsemane. I had identified the Gethsemane-versus-Cross distinction as the single clearest doctrinal divergence between mainstream Christianity and Mormonism, and I had used that divergence to conclude that the two revelations come from two different spirits.

Leonard corrected me. He was unambiguous: That’s not what he says. You’re misunderstanding that. It’s the whole — it had to be part of it. Spiritual in the garden, part of it physical on the cross. It was the whole. That was the sacrifice that had to happen. Both had to happen. He explained Denver Snuffer’s account further: in Gethsemane, Christ took upon himself the sins of the world and bled from every pore — that is the suffering of bearing sin spiritually. But that was not the end of the atonement. He continued on to the Cross, where he died physically. The death on the Cross was, in some sense, Denver claims to have been shown, made possible only by the prior emptying-out of Gethsemane: without the spiritual depletion in the garden, Christ would have been physically strong enough to remain on the Cross indefinitely. The Gethsemane suffering enabled the Cross dying.

This is a both-and account, not an either-or account. Leonard cited the two emblems of the sacrament (Mormon and broader Christian) — the bread for the body broken on the Cross, the wine for the blood shed — which the LDS reading specifically associates with the bleeding from every pore at Gethsemane. Both emblems are present in remembrance precisely because both moments are present in the redemption.

I had to acknowledge that this reframing changed what I had thought I was disagreeing with. If the Mormon account is Gethsemane AND Cross — adding texture and emotional depth and historical detail to the biblical account, without subtracting the Cross’s centrality — then it is not the categorical divergence I had taken it to be. I said so at the time, and I will repeat it here for the record: what you’ve done with that explanation, which was very good and very transformative, you have reformed Mormonism in my mind. The phrase came out at the time, and I want to keep it, because it captures what happened. Leonard, by carefully restating Denver’s actual position rather than letting me caricature it, changed my reading.

I want to be careful, though, about what this acknowledgment means. It does not mean I now accept Joseph Smith or Denver Snuffer as canonical revelators. It means that the specific Gethsemane-versus-Cross divergence I had used as a diagnostic does not hold up to careful re-reading of the Mormon position. The deeper concern — that any post-apostolic single-revelator system moves the adherent along the spectrum toward the mono-vocal end, regardless of whether the revealed content overtly contradicts the Bible — remains. The structural-spectrum argument does not depend on finding a content-level contradiction. It applies even when the revealed content is non-contradictory but additive.

Still, I owe Leonard the acknowledgment that the content-level argument I had been making was less sharp than I had thought. The structural argument, the multi-vocal versus the univocal revelation of God over four millennia is the load-bearing one. I should rely on it rather than on a content-divergence claim that turned out to be less sharp than I had treated it.

After that exchange, Leonard offered another small but significant insight that added depth to the drama and prophetic fulfillment of the crucifixion. When I quoted Christ on the Cross — My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me — and gave it my own interpretation (that Christ was experiencing the wrath of God against sin as the substitute), Leonard said: Do you know what he was doing there? He was reciting scripture. He was reciting scripture from the Psalms. He was quoting Psalm 22:1. Christ on the Cross was, in his last words, identifying himself as the fulfillment of the prophetic Psalm that opens with that exact cry and continues with what reads, when you go back to it, like a detailed prophetic description of the crucifixion (they pierced my hands and my feet… they part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture — Psalm 22:16-18). Christ was, in some sense, testifying of who he was by quoting the prophecy he was fulfilling, even from the depths of the suffering.

This was another perspective that grounds the New Testament in Old Testament prophecy. It also illustrates what genuine Christian fellowship across denominational lines makes possible — Leonard’s Mormon background led him to read the Old Testament with particular attention to messianic typology, and from that attention came an insight that enriched the rest of us. The fellowship is bigger when Leonard is in it.

VI. The Canon Question

The discussion drifted naturally into the question of when the apostolic witness closes and how the canon was settled, as this is the primary disagreement I now see with Mormonism. I had the impression that the canon was formalized around the time of the Council of Nicaea (around the time of Constantine, fourth century). Leonard was skeptical. Research outside of the fellowship discussion revealed that the Council of Nicaea (325 CE) was primarily about Christological controversies (Arianism) and did not actually settle the New Testament canon. The canon was developed gradually through several regional councils and through Athanasius’s Festal Letter of 367 CE that lists the twenty-seven New Testament books, with broader agreement crystallizing through the Council of Hippo (393 CE) and Council of Carthage (397 CE). My point stands, it was the period roughly around Constantine, when the early Christian community formalized which writings it considered authoritative, which is a reasonable rough approximation. It was not Nicaea specifically that canonized the scripture included in the Bible.

The substantive point I was making, was that the criterion the early Christian community used for canon-recognition was apostolic provenance. Writings that came from the apostles themselves (Paul, Peter, John, Matthew, James, Jude) or from close associates of the apostles writing under apostolic authority (Mark with Peter, Luke with Paul) were recognized as canonical. The Old Testament was already a received corpus inherited from the Jewish community (with disagreements at the margins about the deuterocanonical books). The criterion is closeness to the historical witness of Jesus Christ and the apostolic generation.

By this criterion, the apostolic witness closes around the end of the first century, with the last writings of the Apostle John. Anything after that — however edifying, however prophetic, however inspired — is not canonical scripture in the sense the early Church meant by the term. It is, at most, the working out of the implications of canonical scripture in subsequent generations, with whatever measure of the Spirit’s wisdom the working-out has been given. This is the framing of Biblical canon that I presented to Leonard.

Leonard’s response to my justification of a closed canon was that he holds an open canon. He believes that the Lord has continued to speak through chosen servants and that the writings of those servants — Joseph Smith’s revelations, the Book of Mormon translation, the Doctrine and Covenants, the Pearl of Great Price, and Denver Snuffer’s contemporary contributions — are part of an ongoing extension of canon. He does not see this as displacing the Bible but as adding to it. He doesn’t stop. He’s not going to stop talking. We may stop listening, but He’s never going to stop talking. That is Leonard’s position, said simply and with conviction. I agree that God has not stopped speaking to people since the apostolic era. Rather, the question is whether the voice of God to individuals is to be taken with the same level of universal authority as the Biblical canon.

What I held on to in the conversation, and what I want to hold on to in this summary, is that I have chosen the biblical canon as the first rock in the edifice. Everything subsequent I evaluate against that rock. If a subsequent revelation contradicts the biblical canon, I reject it. If it is non-contradictory and additive, I am willing to read it with interest but not to give my heart, my allegiance, or my spiritual vow to its medium. The structural concern about moving along the spectrum toward the mono-vocal end remains operative even for non-contradictory additions. This is the operating framework I came out of last week’s discussion with, and Sunday’s conversation refined it without overturning it.

One additional point that has been operative throughout this discussion, but underemphasized, and perhaps my major consideration in the choice of following/embracing/giving my heart/mind/soul to the multi-vocal over the mono-vocal revelation, is (what I consider to be fact) that spiritual patterns are associated with both revelations. I believe that we pattern our minds/hearts/souls/character strongly by what we elevate to the level of primal theological revelation. I believe every configuration of life has an associated soul-spirit pattern association. The spirit of a mountain, crystal, school team, business plan, etc. We live in a sea of spirits, and we alter who we are to interact with each spirit. We adapt to the spirits around us, and we take on the corresponding hand-in-glove relationship by that relationship. As a result, when we take on a mono-vocal revelator, we are strongly imprinted by that pattern. In this way, our character is shaped in a particular way, which a broader revelator, i.e., the Biblical canon, our character has greater freedom to explore possibilities.

VII. The Sheikh Arrives

Approximately one hour into the meeting, Michael Sherman appeared on the call. I had written to him several days earlier, recommending that the most productive forum for an interfaith conversation with one of his Muslim contacts would be a separately scheduled one-on-one Zoom. The Sunday fellowship meeting has been dedicated to working on questions within Christianity. Inserting an external interfaith dialogue into it changes that. Michael’s guest was Sheikh Ra Sadiq, an Imam (or, more precisely, a representative teacher) of the Moorish Science Temple of America.

Michael’s having brought the Sheikh meant the fellowship had an unscheduled real-world test of the spirit-behind-religion framework we had been developing all week. Michael had to leave in fifty-five minutes for another commitment.

The most striking thing about the encounter, in retrospect, is that the Sheikh did not fit the profile of the Muslim interlocutor I had prepared for in the reading list. I had compiled the reading list expecting we would meet a Sunni Muslim, possibly Sufi-inflected, who would represent some recognizable strand of the global Muslim tradition. The Moorish Science Temple of America is not that. It is an American religious movement founded by Noble Drew Ali (born Timothy Drew, 1886–1929) and formally chartered in 1925. Noble Drew Ali published the Holy Koran of the Moorish Science Temple of America (the Circle 7 Koran) in 1927. The MSTA teaches that black Americans are descendants of the ancient Moors and should reclaim their Moorish national identity (rather than being called Negro or Black). It incorporates elements of Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, Taoism, Theosophy, and Freemasonry. It is historically related to but distinct from the Nation of Islam (Wallace Fard Muhammad and Elijah Muhammad later drew on Moorish Science influences in founding the NOI in 1930). The MSTA is genuinely interesting as an American religious phenomenon, but it is not Sunni or Shia Islam in any conventional sense, and the careful diagnostic questions about naskh and Quran 9:5 and Reliance of the Traveller that I had prepared for were not really the right questions for this interlocutor.

I should have asked at the introduction, What tradition of Islam do you represent? — but Michael had introduced him simply as someone knowledgeable about Islam, and the Sheikh’s own opening was direct: he distinguished himself immediately from the Arab representation of Islam and made clear he follows Prophet Noble Drew Ali, an American-born prophet. He has been practicing since age 21; he is now 77. He emphasized that the MSTA’s Islam is different from what the Arabs have produced as Islam. They pray three times a day, not five. They have their own prophet. The MSTA does not, in his telling, practice the militant or expansionist forms of Islam that figure in international Salafi-jihadist movements, and he was emphatic that contemporary slavery in parts of Arabia and Africa — castration of black men, racial subjugation — is incompatible with anything he would call Islam.

In other words, the Sheikh is a particular kind of American Moorish reformist, with a strong anti-Arab-Islam current running through his religious self-understanding. His Islam is, in many respects, more reformist than the reformist Muslim scholarship I had compiled in the reading list, because it begins from a different premise altogether — that the Arab representation of Islam is itself a distortion of a more original, more authentic, more universal Islam to which Noble Drew Ali was bearing witness.

In the spectrum-vocabulary I developed in Section I, the Sheikh’s MSTA tradition sits at the mono-vocal end of the spectrum — its authoritative deposit is Noble Drew Ali’s Circle 7 Koran and the teachings of a single prophet — but its institutional embodiment is non-tyrannical in practice. The Sheikh is, in this respect, structurally similar to Leonard. Both follow a mono-vocal post-apostolic era revelator whose institutional setting is relatively benign. The Sheikh’s Noble Drew Ali plays in the MSTA the structural role Leonard’s Denver Snuffer plays in his Snufferite Mormonism: a single-medium, single-revelation source with a loose institutional surround.

VIII. The Four Questions

Michael walked the Sheikh through three of the four questions I had prepared in my letter to Michael Sherman. The fourth question — about the demographic-majority scenario, what mainstream Muslims would do if they became the majority in an American jurisdiction — did not get asked. After determining that the Sheikh did not fit into the conventional Islamic paradigm, I chose to move the conversation in a different direction. Here is how the Sheikh handled the three questions that did get asked.

Question 1 — Quran 9:5 and 9:29, the sword verse and the jizya verse. The Sheikh read Q 9:5 aloud from his own copy of the Quran: when the sacred months are over, slay your unbelievers wherever you find them. He immediately framed it defensively. If you try to slay me, I’m gonna kill you. If you cut my hand off, rape my woman, molest my child, I’m gonna kill you, and I’m looking for you ahead of time. The reading he offered is that the verse refers to situations in which a peace agreement has been broken — suddenly you break the agreement; you’re trying to enslave me; I turn around and defend myself. The phrase but if they should repent, establish prayer, and give zakah, let them go on their way he interpreted as a permission to release attackers who repent rather than as a coercive conversion-or-die command. The verse, in his reading, applies to agreement-breakers acting badly rather than to all unbelievers everywhere.

This is a substantially reformist reading. It is closer to the only defensive jihad is permitted position that figures like Khaled Abou El Fadl and Akbar Ahmed defend in contemporary reformist Muslim scholarship than to the classical Sunni jurisprudential position represented in Reliance of the Traveller Book O. I do not know enough about the Moorish Science Temple’s actual hermeneutic tradition to say whether the Sheikh’s reading is representative of his tradition more broadly or particular to him; my impression is that the MSTA generally operates inside this kind of broadly pacific-defensive reading rather than inside classical militant-expansionist jurisprudence.

I named him, in the moment, as a reformist, and I said I had no problem at all with reformist Islam — it is coexistent, peaceful, searching for God, honoring man, creating a good life. The Sheikh resisted the label slightly. He said Islam doesn’t need to be reformed; Islam needs to be learned. His point was that what he is teaching is the true Islam, not a reformed version of a corrupted Islam — the corrupted version (in his telling) is what the Arabs have produced. The original or authentic Islam is what Noble Drew Ali recovered. So he is, in his own framing, a restorationist (in a structural sense) rather than a reformist — claiming to recover an original that has been corrupted, rather than to reform an existing tradition. The distinction matters for understanding him on his own terms, though from the outside the two postures look quite similar.

He also offered an extended critique of Christian European history at this point — Q 9:29 he framed similarly to 9:5 (the people of the book who break agreements and try to impose their will are to be fought; those who live peaceably are not), and he turned the camera around on Christianity. I learned Arabic to learn the Quran. The Christian had to learn Latin to learn the Bible — until Martin Luther. The implicit point was that Christianity has its own history of restricted access, hierarchical control, and corruption, and that the same kind of internal reform process he sees in Moorish Science (recovering an authentic teaching from a corrupted lineage) has happened in Christianity.

Question 2 — Muslim minorities in non-Muslim civil order. The Sheikh’s answer here was rooted in the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence rather than in the classical Islamic jurisprudence of fiqh al-aqalliyyat I had prepared for. If we’re living in peace, we’re living at each other’s character… I don’t be fussing… I’m doing unto others I want others to do unto me. His emphasis was on the universal principle (the Golden Rule) and on the American constitutional framework as the appropriate civic order. The classical dar al-Islam / dar al-harb binary was nowhere in his framework. Rather, what surfaced was his historical critique of Christianity’s own civilizational record:

What about the article that the Pope issued, the canon of discovery, that was killing anybody that wasn’t a Christian? I don’t understand this conversation, because your history in the world of conquest has a thing with the Pope where he drew a line down — we call it the demarcation line. He said, well, y’all can have this part, y’all can have that part — and you got Spanish-speaking people that weren’t speaking Spanish, you got Portuguese people speaking, you got English people speaking — all this because the religion that the Pope started — they made everybody else a slave. The thing of discovery, where the Pope drew down the line — if they’re not Christian, rape them, kill them, do whatever you want to do. Now that’s the record of humanity, but suddenly it’s like Islam has become a threat, and I’m trying to figure out why is Islam a threat to a people that did all that anyway?

Of course, the Sheikh’s point was correct that there have been abuses by people who claim the name of Christ. The Pope was not right in what the Doctrine of Discovery authorized. The Catholic Church was wrong in that authorization. The historical record of European Christian colonization includes genuine and substantial atrocities. None of that is in dispute, and the Christian doctrine itself condemns it (regardless of what the Pope of 1493 said). The concern about Islam in the present, I said, is whether some current strands of Islam — not the Sheikh’s, but specifically the militant and expansionist strands — operate on a structural logic similar to the Pope’s Doctrine of Discovery, where the framework authorizes conquest and subjugation of non-believers. The question is not whether all of Islam is bad; the question is whether some strands of Islam carry an expansionist logic that we need to be aware of. The Sheikh’s strand clearly does not. Other strands clearly do.

He accepted the framing well. He returned to his own ethics — feeding stray animals, talking to children, helping a European woman who was struggling with her three children by giving her thirty dollars, giving his prayer beads to a friend who admired them — and his point was: that’s what humanity tells me. The doing-unto-others. He is, on this point, on solid biblical ground, and Christianity should recognize the convergence, and support the stand for good works regardless of the religion.

Question 3 — The reformist Muslim scholars (Abou El Fadl, Akbar Ahmed, Kamali). The Sheikh did not know these scholars. He affirmed instead his own framework: Islam is for love, truth, peace, freedom, and justice. Basically those are the basic principles we as Moors live off. He continued: There is no form in Islam that tells us the world conquered. You can see that in the Quran itself, when it says the people of the book — some of the people of the book will be right, some will be wrong. So it cannot be that type of religion unless there’s a group of people trying to make it that way.

His position, again, is that the world-conquest reading is a misreading or a distortion produced by people with conquest-agendas, not a faithful reading of the Quran. Whether that is historically and exegetically defensible in the broader Islamic tradition is a serious question (the classical jurisprudential tradition does, in fact, codify the dar al-Islam / dar al-harb binary and the doctrine of fard kifaya offensive jihad). But it is clear that the Sheikh, in his own practice and teaching, holds this peaceful-coexistence position with sincerity. He is, as Susan would later observe in the debrief, an instance of light operating within a tradition that also contains other elements — the light of Christ in every man who comes into the world (John 1:9), as Susan would put it later in her Gospel exposition.

Michael had to leave, so we didn’t get his input, and after his departure, the conversation pivoted into a different mode entirely.

IX. The Counter-Attack — Luke 19:27, Genesis, Isaiah 45:7, and the Snake-and-Baby

After Michael left, the Sheikh took up the questioner’s seat himself, and his line of inquiry turned sharply. He had prepared his own questions for us, and they were not soft. He launched into a series of biblical critiques that constituted, in effect, a counter-mission from Moorish Science back to the fellowship.

The Luke 19:27 challenge. Read your Bible. Go to Luke 19, verse 27. It says, if Jesus told this: ‘If you don’t believe in me, bring him in and kill him.’ That’s in the Bible. Nobody talks about that.

Susan looked up the verse and read it aloud. The King James reads: But those mine enemies, which would not that I should reign over them, bring hither, and slay them before me. The verse was unfamiliar to most of us in the moment, and the Sheikh’s point seemed to be — here is the supposed Prince of Peace authorizing the slaughter of those who refuse him. Susan’s instinct was that we needed to look at the context, but in the moment the context was not immediately available, and we acknowledged that we did not have a ready answer.

Later, in the debrief after the Sheikh had left, Armond came back to this question and made the crucial correction: Luke 19:27 is the closing line of a parable, not Jesus’s direct teaching. The parable is the Parable of the Pounds (Luke 19:11-27, sometimes confused with the Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25). In the parable, Jesus tells of a nobleman who travels to a far country to receive a kingdom, leaving servants with money to invest. Some of the nobleman’s citizens refuse to have him reign over them. When the nobleman returns, he settles accounts with his servants (rewarding the faithful, punishing the unfaithful), and then — in verse 27 — the nobleman commands that his enemies, those who refused his rule, be brought and slain before him. The line is the nobleman’s command, inside the parable, not Jesus’s direct teaching about how Christians should treat unbelievers.

This is a significant exegetical correction, and it deserves to be on the record. The Sheikh used Luke 19:27 as if it were a teaching of Jesus himself, when it is in fact a piece of dialogue Jesus places in the mouth of a parabolic character. The parabolic character is, in the standard Christian reading, a figure of Christ in his second-coming role who in His role as the returning King will have no mercy on those who rejected Him. This is actually the real point we must consider. Is this a merciful God or a just God. I believe this parable refers to the fate of those who reject His way and offer of clemency. I believe Jesus was describing the wrath of God against evil. God is perfect, pure, and hates evil, and He will not allow it in His presence. It is this principle, that God directed His absolute/unmitigated wrath at the Son, who “became sin” for us. “For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.” (2 Corinthians 5:21) God is merciful to those who have been cleansed, who have accepted His terms of alliance. This verse uses the literary mechanism of the parable of how God rejects those who reject Him. It is not a teaching of how we should treat an unbeliever. This brings up a strong point, whether God should be merciful to all people, regardless of their acceptance of Him and His way. The verse is clear, God’s anger at sin and rebellion is hot and counting on God to overlook a life of unrepentant violation of His way unwashed by the blood is a most serious offense, not a point to be used as a proof of theological error in the canon or God’s character. Armond made the point in the debrief, that this was a textbook case of how easy it is for someone outside a tradition to take a passage out of context and use it as a weapon. Likewise, it is easy for people within the tradition to ignore the actual weight of words spoken by our Lord Himself. As another note of caution, this misunderstanding is illustrative of how we should be careful of doing the same thing to other traditions. This also illustrates how we must be prepared to defend our own faith and be ready to correct misinterpretations directed against us.

The Genesis 1:12 / problem of evil challenge. The Sheikh moved next to Genesis. He quoted Genesis 1:12 — the earth brought forth grass and herbs yielding seed after their kind, and trees yielding fruit, and God saw that it was good — and asked: Now, if all these trees are healing themselves, doing this, who made the tree of good and evil? If everything God made was good (Genesis 1:31), how can we account for the tree of the knowledge of good and evil being in the garden? Did God make evil?

He moved on to Isaiah 45:7 — I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things. He read this as a straightforward divine admission that God creates evil. So, he asked, what is your context on that?

Susan offered the response that settled the question. He has defined what is good, and by defining what is good, that defines what is evil. Satan was clearly created, but I believe that he was created as a being of light, and then he chose darkness. He wasn’t created as an evil being. He disobeyed. He departed from what was good. This is the classical Christian answer: evil is privation of good, not a positive substance God creates; Satan was created good (as Lucifer, the light-bearer) and fell by his own choice. The creation of evil in Isaiah 45:7 is often reframed as disasters and calamities sent in judgment rather than to moral evil as a substance. I personally think that Susan’s framing, that evil is created by God’s defining what is good, is adequate. Clearly God allowed evil to exist in His world, and I believe evil existing was necessary, and intimately connected with God’s purpose. Another interpretation is that the Son created that entirety of the world. All things, in heaven and earth were created by Him, and thus, there was a separation of the Father from evil by the Son, who created everything, and from which evil arose. Clearly, if God created everything, and evil exists, even if by rebellion, if it continues to exist, God has de facto allowed evil’s existence. It is not possible to separate God from the creation of evil, because God, through the Son, has created everything. But the creation of evil is impossible to avoid if He create a creation where He defines good and evil, names some actions as pleasing to him, and others as not.

The Sheikh pressed: If God knows everything, how come He didn’t know that He created something that’s going to mess up everything He created? This is the classical theistic problem of evil. This is the question that philosophers and theologians have wrestled with for centuries. Susan answered this question from the standard Christian framework: God did know, and Satan’s fall ends up serving God’s purposes by providing the moral opposition that draws people back to God through the trials Satan creates. It is the felix culpa (happy fall – greater good from a bad situation) tradition in its pastoral form.

The Sheikh was not persuaded. He then presented the next conundrum of the exchange: If a woman has a brand new baby, and somebody comes in and puts a brand new baby snake in there, and the snake bites the baby, who you gonna punish?

The implication is clear. God created Satan; Satan bit Adam and Eve; on the Sheikh’s reading, God himself is the one to blame, because God put the snake in the crib.

Armond’s response — the free-will reframe. Armond stepped in here and made the response that ended up being the load-bearing point of the entire exchange. How proud would you be if you put that snake in there and gave it the choice not to bite, and you trained that snake not to bite — how proud would you be if the snake didn’t do what was within his nature, which is to bite?

The Sheikh pivoted: So why didn’t God do that with the devil? And Armond came back: Well, what He did was He did it with us, because we got sin in our nature. In effect, Armond was saying, God concern was with the development of character of man, not the character of the devil. The devil will follow his nature, but God wanted man to grow up and become mature in His ways, but Adam failed, as God knew he would – hence the reason why Christ was slain before the foundation of the earth. It was a preplanned strategy for redeeming man. God warned man not to eat the apple, but he did it anyway. Adam and Eve were both aware enough to know that what they were doing was wrong. They were ignorant of how high, and the exact cost of sin, but they had enough knowledge, awareness and intelligence to be able to realize there was a cost and chose to do it anyway. God gave man a choice of whether to react to the temptation or not. He knew that man’s sin-nature was too strong and that he would fail. Thus, the stage was set for millennia of growth, maturation, and the experience of relationship between God and man. The goal of the trials, and the building of character, is the development of souls capable of living in God’s universe that love Him. The ultimate purpose of the universe is to satisfy God’s loneliness, or put in terms of the positive, to give God the experience of requited love.

This opened into a sustained exchange about free will. The Sheikh’s position was, in effect, deterministic: man in the garden was created without intelligence, without genuine knowledge of good and evil; God told him not to eat from the tree precisely because if he did, he would gain knowledge, but until he ate he was dumb; therefore he had no real choice; therefore his fall is God’s fault, not His; therefore no human being can be held morally responsible in the way Christian theology claims.

Armond held the line: The choice was always there when options were provided. Leonard added the point that God provided a consequence for choosing. That’s a choice. If a real consequence attaches to a real option, the choice is real, regardless of whether the chooser fully understands the deep cosmic implications of the choice.

The Sheikh was not persuaded. He insisted that a being without intelligence cannot choose, and that man before the fall lacked intelligence, and that therefore man’s choice was not a real choice. My opinion is that this is an inaccurate assessment of man’s actual mental/emotional/moral capability. Adam was not without intelligence. He did not have a deep/articulated/specific knowledge of the consequences of eating the forbidden fruit, but he knew there were consequences. The totally innocent/ignorant child truly cannot make a meaningful choice about a snake, or an apple, he knows nothing about consequences, and cannot make a meaningful choice. But this scenario does not reflect the state of man. Armond and Leonard’s response was, man before the fall had sufficient knowledge for the choice that was set before him — eat or do not eat, with stated consequences for each option. The fact that he did not yet have full knowledge of good and evil in some deeper sense did not eliminate the moral content of the simpler choice that was actually in front of him. If we have enough knowledge about the consequences of the choices, if we know there is a difference, and if we know the general direction of those consequences, then we have a real choice, and we are culpable. To say that we only deserve the consequences when we know the consequences in infinite detail is to assume that culpability only comes with omniscience. To say, “The severity of the consequences is much worse than I expected, I’m not responsible” is merely to say that I thought I would be able to enjoy the sin and the cost wouldn’t be too high, so the equation of pleasure and pain weighed on the side of pleasure. This is testing the Lord’s mercy, patience, and tolerance, and betting we won’t have to pay too high a price for the sin. The fact was that the man thought he could eat and enjoy and not be punished too badly, illuminates the fact that we desire the fruit of sin. But with regards to responsibility, we are responsible (i.e., culpable/deserve the consequences we got for the choices within our actual present cognitive reach). Omniscience is not required before culpability.

The conversation never fully resolved on the Sheikh’s side, but at least he and his students heard a substantive Christian response rather than capitulation.

After this exchange, Armond later observed in the debrief that the snake-and-baby analogy, properly understood, actually cuts the opposite way from how the Sheikh used it. He thought we were the baby in the box, but that was not true. God did not put us in the garden as helpless innocents without defense against the temptations of Satan; He put us in the garden as moral agents capable of choosing to obey or disobey God’s command and warning. The dignity and the burden of that choice is what makes us responsible. The Sheikh’s analogy assumed we were victims. We are not. The problem is that we have a proclivity toward sin, even without a knowledge of what sin and evil is. The Christian framework holds that we have free moral agency, and we are each responsible for developing that into habitual character.

X. Susan’s Exposition of the Gospel

At a certain point in the exchange, when the back-and-forth on free will was no longer making changes in either side, Susan asked if she could lay out the Christian framework as she understood it, and the Sheikh let her. What followed was a coherent summary exposition of the Gospel. It deserves recording in its substantive shape.

Susan walked through the framework:

Man was created good — that is, without sin, in right relationship with God, though not yet wise in the sense of having matured into full discernment.

The tree of the knowledge of good and evil was a real choice with real options and real consequences. God said eat and you shall surely die. Adam disobeyed. The death that followed was spiritual death — man was cut off from God spiritually, which meant that he was exiled from the relationship.

The light of Christ in every man — Susan invoked John 1:9, that Christ is the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world. Not every Christian. Every person. This is why, she said, you find love and truth and goodness in people across many traditions, not just among Christians. The light of Christ is the substrate that makes any genuine human goodness possible, regardless of the tradition that the person consciously identifies with.

Many non-Christians are remarkably loving — Susan said this directly. I’ve noticed that there are a lot of people who don’t believe in Christ who are just the most loving people. They’ll give you the shirt off their back. They’re kind. She also noted that many self-identified Christians do not exhibit love and end up giving God a bad name or Christ a bad name. The light of Christ is everywhere; the darkness of false Christian profession is also visible, and the apostle’s words about taking the Lord’s name in vain apply directly to Christians who do not love.

Christ’s atonement opens the door to be reconciled with the Father, to have peace with God, to pass from death to life. The believer who confesses Christ is filled with the love of the Father in his heart. The void from the lack of love-from-God is like death, and that void is filled when we confess Christ. I know this is real, Susan said, “I’ve experienced this.”

Sanctification is ongoing — even after the confession, we live in a world where everyone is still tempted to go their own way and not follow God’s way. We still aren’t perfect, because we’re like Adam, we know what is wrong to some extent, but we choose to do it anyway. The Christian life is daily confession, repentance, daily renewal, and daily growth. Our prayer is, “Lord, make me new again today.”

The Great Commandment as the test — Jesus said this is how my disciples will be known, that they have love one to another (John 13:35). Therefore, Christians who do not love are failing the test Christ himself laid down. This was Susan’s pastoral admission to the Sheikh, “Yes, much of what you have criticized about Christianity is rightly criticized. This is because much of what calls itself Christianity is not, because it does not have that love.”

The Sheikh may not have been persuaded by Susan’s exposition, as he was steeped in his own framework after fifty-six years of practice. But the Gospel was placed in front of him clearly, and as Susan would later say in the debrief, we don’t know how much will influence him — probably not at all in the moment. But it’s important for us to do that. And, as Armond observed, there were other people listening, too. The Sheikh had his students with him on the call. The Gospel went into more ears than the one.

XI. The Sheikh’s Personal Quest

Perhaps the most human moment of the story was the Sheikh’s account of his own spiritual quest. He shared it at length, after Susan’s Gospel exposition. It is worth recording in his own terms.

He was eighteen years old. He said he had been pimping, running with a fast crowd on the streets of Chicago. He found himself one evening in a wealthy European-owned apartment, the kind he had never seen from the inside before. They were talking about politics, God, they were talking about Iraq, and they talked about so much stuff. I’m like, wow, these people even look intelligent. He left that apartment thinking those people up there know things I don’t. Walking down the street afterward, he looked up at the sky and said, “I never seen the color of the sky like this.” I just looked at it and I said, “Man, that must be what God is up there. God must be right up there.”

And then, in his telling, he had a vision. He was lifted up. He saw a great hall full of beings on either side of an aisle. At the front, a figure of light. He walked down the aisle. He thought: that must be God — that shiny-head one down there must be God. He approached. A hand came out from the figure, the universal gesture for stop. He stopped. The figure said: “Who am I?”

He answered: “You — Jesus?” The figure said “No.” He found himself back in his body, messed up, because he had been baptized as a Christian, and he had said the only answer his Christian formation had given him, and the answer had been rejected.

A few years later he went back up — by which he meant another such experience. By now several of his friends had become Black Muslims in the Nation of Islam tradition, and he had absorbed Muslim ideas. He walked down the aisle again. The hand stopped him. “Who am I?” He answered: “You — Allah?” No, the figure said. He wasn’t Allah. He wasn’t Jesus. He was back in his body, messed up again. Two to three weeks messed up. Here I am, eighteen years old. Don’t know who God is. Have no conception of who God really is. And I’m using what other people told me — the Christians, my family, they were Christians. The Muslim brothers, they told me.

He spent the next ten to fifteen years searching for the answer to the question Who am I? — that is, who God is to him. He read voraciously across traditions. He has, he said, a religious dictionary on his desk; he reads Buddhist material, Christian Science, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Hindu scriptures. He keeps a holy book always nearby. Right now I got my house full of books and scriptures to formulate an idea, a concept of my relationship to God. What is my relationship to God? Not what people told me. What do I know? My personal relationship with God.

This is the testimony of a serious seeker. Whatever else he is, the Sheikh is not a casual or unreflective practitioner of his tradition. He has spent five-and-a-half decades looking, and the looking has been substantively engaged with the major options the world has on offer. His settled place — the Moorish Science Temple of America — is where his looking has landed, not where his upbringing left him.

In the debrief after he left, Armond would observe, that’s the Islamic Leonard. The structural similarity is striking. Two men, each in his seventies, each having spent five decades or more inside a particular mono-vocal tradition that he came to as a young adult, each having internalized the tradition deeply, each operating from sincere love of God as he understands God, each unmovable from the tradition. The two are similar in their spiritual posture, and their differences are in the specific content of the mono-vocal tradition each has chosen. Leonard inherited Mormonism through ancestry and culture; the Sheikh chose Moorish Science by deliberate adult conversion. Both have shaped their souls by commitment to a particular post-apostolic mono-vocal tradition. People choose a spiritual practice, teacher, tradition, based on what resonates with their souls, which in turn shapes their souls.

XII. After They Left — Armond’s “Islamic Leonard” Observation

The Sheikh had a class at 2:30 and had to depart. The fellowship — by now reduced to Susan, Charlie, Armond, and me — debriefed for nearly another hour.

Susan led with what we were all thinking: That was like riding a Bronco or something. The conversation had moved in directions none of us had anticipated. The four prepared questions, the reformist-vs-classical framework I had developed in the reading list, the diagnostic moves I had thought we might use, mostly ended up being directly relevant. The Sheikh had set the agenda once we had challenged him about the character, traditions, and abuses of Islam. He then proceeded to challenge us on the abuses and scriptures of Christianity rather than on Islam’s.

Armond made an important observation that I have already mentioned regarding interfaith encounters the fellowship may have.

That’s the Islamic Leonard in his search, in his seeking, and then even in his heritage, in his family’s lineage. He’s very much steeped into Islam and you know, the Moorish sect, the American Moorish sect, so I think the challenge with having a conversation is when we have a conversation amongst us, just within our own Christian following and Christian faith, I think we come into it with a certain lack of egotism, and with a certain commitment to learning, and commitment to knowledge. So you know, I saw it even with Dr. Tom today. He was so open to receiving what Leonard was delivering that within five or ten minutes of hearing something that resonated, he was like — yeah, no, before we had this conversation I didn’t think this; I think it now — which I thought was huge. And I think that the challenge is, when we’re discussing something outside of Christianity, outside of self-proclaimed Christians, and even self-proclaimed followers of Christ, and different religious sects of even Christianity — I think the challenge is, to not make it a fight. It’s natural to come on with the premise of defending what we’re discussing and defending our life’s goals and our life’s missions and our entire fifty-year path of life. So, we’re coming on defending our entire paths of life, instead of being able to be open enough to receive anything.

This observation is doing several things at once, and each deserves to be drawn out.

First, it places Leonard and the Sheikh in the same structural category: serious adult-formed believers in a particular mono-vocal tradition, with deep internalized lifelong commitments. They are not the same in content (Mormonism and Moorish Science differ in many respects), but they are the same in shape of the soul. Treating Leonard and treating the Sheikh require the same kind of pastoral care and the same kind of careful witness. The lessons from one transfer to the other.

Second, Armond identified a difference between internal-fellowship dialogue (where we come in with low egotism and high openness to learning) and external-tradition dialogue (where we come in defending fifty years of commitment). The difference is real and explains why so many interfaith dialogues go badly — both sides arrive with their guards up, ready to fight, and the defending fifty years of commitment posture makes genuine listening structurally difficult on both sides.

Third — and this is what Armond pursued in his closing exchange with me after Susan had signed off — the question is how do we set up rules of engagement for inter-tradition dialogue that do not begin with both sides in combat posture? How do we engage in a conversation without saying this is what you guys are doing wrong. That posture of attack on the entire system of belief held by the masses following that religion? The framing matters enormously. The Sheikh came in already braced, partly because his fifty-four years had taught him to brace, partly because Michael’s introduction had set up an expectation of defense rather than mutual inquiry. We were in response-to-attack mode within minutes, and the conversation became more about parrying than about genuine exchange.

In response to Armond’s observation, I told him that I think in every interaction there is some kind fight. In the teacher-student interaction, there is fight is between ignorance and knowledge. In the sharing of personal stories, there are always questions such as: its literal truth, the method of delivery, the words chosen… The most obvious example of a fight though, and usually the only one we call a fight, is when there is a difference of opinion about facts or future action. This is always and unavoidably a fight. If there’s a difference, that means there are two people who have different points of view. If there is merely a difference in perspective, agreement can be reached by frame shifting. But, if the perspectives are mutually exclusive, they aren’t both right. But Armond’s point stands: even if the underlying disagreement is real and cannot be dissolved by frame-setting, the manner of the fight matters. The question changes from “how do we convince the other person” to “How do we speak the truth in love?” As the old saying goes: Make your words sweet, because someday you might have to eat them. This is a fellowship posture that we need to always adopt as a default habit. We need to practice speaking the truth in love in every interaction in our lives. This means belittling, ridiculing, sarcasm (cutting the flesh), etc. are inappropriate in most life circumstances.

XIII. Categories of Religion — Locating Traditions on the Spectrum

A different question arose in the debrief that I want to elevate, because it has been latent in the fellowship’s discussions for some weeks now and Sunday brought it to the surface clearly.

Susan, processing the meeting, said something like: if we say Mormonism is another gospel, we’d have to say that nearly everything is another gospel — Presbyterian, Baptist, all of them, everyone is embracing some kind of departure from pure Christianity. Her point was pastoral. She did not want to weaponize another gospel language (Galatians 1:8) against Leonard because, to be consistent, we would have to apply it to many other communities besides his, and we do not.

I think Susan was raising a real question and that she gave me an opportunity to articulate what I had been working toward in Section I — the spectrum framing along a new axis rather than the binary (right/wrong, Godly/demonic, good/evil). The axis we are examining today is the various traditions on the mono-vocal / multi-vocal spectrum. The institutional layer is on a tradition deserves its own examination. The mono-vocal vs. multi-vocal placement clarifies one type of disagreement we have with each tradition.

At the multi-vocal end of the spectrum sit the biblical-canon Christian traditions. The Baptists, the Presbyterians, the Methodists, the Pentecostals, the Roman Catholics, the Eastern Orthodox, the Reformed, the Anabaptists, the Anglicans, the various Sabbatarian traditions (CGG, Worldwide Church of God descendants, Seventh-Day Adventists), and so on — these are all centered on the multi-vocal biblical canon. They differ from one another, sometimes substantially, on matters like sacramental theology, ecclesiology, the work of the Spirit, eschatology, the relationship of law and grace, and so on. But they all hold the sixty-six-book Protestant Bible (or sixty-six-plus-deuterocanonical for the Catholic and Orthodox traditions) as the rule of faith, and they all read the Christian tradition as the continuing interpretation of that biblical deposit. Their disputes are internal disputes within the multi-vocal canon. Their institutional layers vary widely: Catholicism has a highly developed institutional magisterium with historical patterns of disciplinary control; most Protestant traditions have looser institutional structures with congregational or presbyterian governance; some traditions (Seventh-Day Adventism, certain Pentecostal movements) have institutions whose authority extends beyond what the multi-vocal canon by itself would warrant, but the institution still operates as commentary on, rather than addition to, the canon.

In the middle of the spectrum sit the traditions that combine the multi-vocal biblical canon with a layer of post-apostolic single-revelator deposit. Mormonism is the central case. The Latter-Day Saints hold the Bible plus the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price; the various breakaway and reformist Mormon movements (RLDS / Community of Christ, the Snufferite tradition Leonard belongs to, the fundamentalist polygamist groups, and various smaller movements) hold variations on this hybrid structure. The believer in these traditions has the multi-vocal biblical foundation but attaches to it a mono-vocal personal-revelation supplement that becomes operatively authoritative in his life. The institutional layer varies sharply across the Mormon movements: the mainstream LDS Church has a highly developed institutional structure with significant disciplinary authority (which Leonard recognizes is, in important respects, far off base of Joseph Smith’s original vision), while the Snufferite tradition has a deliberately minimal institutional presence around a deliberately hands-off living prophet.

Jehovah’s Witnesses similarly combine the biblical canon with a layer of authoritative post-apostolic interpretation through the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society publications. The Watchtower’s interpretations function as operatively authoritative in ways that distinguish JW from mainstream Protestantism, and the institutional structure of the Watchtower Society exercises significant control over individual lives.

Christian Science combines biblical citations with Mary Baker Eddy’s Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures as the authoritative interpretive deposit. The institutional structure is moderate.

Seventh-Day Adventism, as I noted earlier, properly sits closer to the multi-vocal end than to the middle of the spectrum, but Ellen G. White’s writings function with significant authority in shaping SDA doctrine and practice, which puts SDA partway along the spectrum from purely-multi-vocal toward the middle. (Note that Mary Baker Eddy, and Ellen G. White are distinct figures who founded distinct movements, and their respective postures toward the Bible differ in important ways. SDA holds the Bible as primary in ways that Christian Science does not.)

At the mono-vocal end of the spectrum sit the traditions whose authoritative deposit is primarily or entirely a single revelator’s report or a single closed scripture without the multi-vocal biblical foundation. Islam is the largest case: Muhammad as the single Prophet, the Quran as the closed single-volume revelation, the hadith as a subordinate layer of commentary on the Prophet’s life and sayings. The classical Sunni jurisprudential institutions (the four madhhabs, the modern Salafi reform movements, the various jurisprudential authorities such as Al-Azhar) operate with significant institutional control in their respective contexts.

The Moorish Science Temple of America (Noble Drew Ali plus the Circle 7 Koran) is a smaller-scale instance of the same structural form: a single founding prophet, a single revealed text, organized around a particular community. The institutional layer is much looser than Sunni Islam’s.

The Nation of Islam (Wallace Fard Muhammad as the originating figure, Elijah Muhammad’s Message to the Blackman as the operative authoritative text, Louis Farrakhan as the long-standing public leader) is structurally similar in source-form to MSTA but with a stronger institutional layer.

Hindu and Buddhist guru-disciple traditions in their various forms — from the classical Vedantic lineages to the modern ashram movements (Yogi Bhajan’s 3HO movement, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s Transcendental Meditation movement, Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh’s neo-Sannyasin movement, A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda and ISKON, Swami Saraswati and his Divine Love Society, Sri Ramakrishna and the Vedanta Society and many others) — are mono-vocal in source-structure, with widely varying degrees of institutional control over disciples’ lives.

The Unification Church (Sun Myung Moon as the single revelator and Divine Principle as the operative text) is structurally mono-vocal with a moderately developed institutional layer.

The Bahá’í tradition combines mono-vocal elements (Bahá’u’lláh as the founding figure, with Báb as predecessor and Abdu’l-Bahá as authorized interpreter) with a deliberate ecumenical openness that distinguishes it from more closed mono-vocal traditions; structurally Bahá’í sits somewhat closer to the mono-vocal end than to the middle, but with less institutional control than most.

These traditions are not all the same in content. They are alike in structural form: each centers its adherents’ spiritual lives on a relationship to a single post-apostolic founding figure’s revelation, with whatever institutional layer that founding figure’s successors have developed.

The category-distinctions matter because the spirit-behind-religion concern applies along the spectrum in a graded way. Pure multi-vocal traditions are well-protected against the spirit-behind-a-single-medium problem; pure mono-vocal traditions are highly exposed to it; the hybrid traditions in the middle are exposed to whatever degree their adherents allow the mono-vocal supplement to take operative supremacy over the multi-vocal foundation. The Pauline warning about another gospel (Gal 1:9) does not require a content-level contradiction to apply; it can apply to a source-level change. If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed — the received gospel is the multi-vocal apostolic deposit; a different gospel could be one that subtracts from the multi-vocal deposit (denying parts of it) or one that adds to it a mono-vocal supplement that effectively displaces the multi-vocal foundation in the adherent’s operative life.

This is the framework I have been developing through the recent essays, and Sunday’s encounter. Leonard the Mormon and the Sheikh the Moor in the same meeting made the framework more visible. Both Leonard and the Sheikh are on the spectrum, partway down from the multi-vocal end toward the mono-vocal end. Both are loved as image-bearers. The fellowship’s witness to each of them takes a similar shape: honor the person, recognize what is true in their tradition, hold firm to the multi-vocal biblical canon as the primary source, point them toward the Christ who is the only one who can save (Leonard is firmly committed to Jesus as Lord, the Shiekh still follows another prophet), pray for the Spirit’s witness to confirm in them what no argument of ours can.

XIV. Armond’s Black-American-History Reflections

A substantial portion of the post-departure debrief was Armond’s extended reflection on black American history, identity, and the question of what the Sheikh represented from inside the African-American religious tradition. I want to record what Armond shared without endorsing or refuting it in detail; these are claims he made, drawing on heterodox historiography that exists in certain black American intellectual traditions, and they deserve to be on the record as part of what happened in the meeting.

Armond named the Doctrine of Discovery — the papal bulls Dum Diversas (1452) and Romanus Pontifex (1455) and Inter Caetera (1493) that authorized European Christian states to claim non-Christian lands and subjugate or enslave their inhabitants — as a significant historical injury that mainstream American Christian consciousness has largely failed to reckon with. He paired it with the genocide of the indigenous peoples of the Americas — estimates ranging from three to five million in pre-Columbian North America alone, with the population destroyed not only physically but also historically through the erasure of written and material records. We speak about the Holocaust, Holocaust, he said, but no one speaks about the three to five million indigenous Americans that were killed during colonization. And we’re not talking about just the Trail of Tears; we’re talking about millions of people that were across the entire North America with civilizations that were thriving, that were obliterated, not just physically, but even historically, with all signs of history.

He moved from there to what he called the $5 Indian phenomenon. The claim, as he described it, is that during the period of westward expansion and the establishment of Indian reservations, individuals could purchase Native American identity claims for nominal sums (the $5 Indian designation), which had implications for the demographic accounting of who counted as Native American and who counted as Negro. The further claim — and here I am reporting Armond’s framing, not endorsing it — is that a substantial portion of the contemporary black American population descends not primarily from West African slaves brought across the Atlantic, but from indigenous American populations that were reclassified through census manipulation as Negro (a category created and elaborated specifically for this reclassification, on Armond’s reading) rather than as Native American. This argument is sometimes referred to in heterodox black American historiography as the we are the indigenous Americans thesis, and the Moorish Science Temple of America is partly anchored in this framework (along with the parallel claim about Moroccan/Moorish ancestry of certain North American black populations).

Armond also made a logistical-feasibility argument about the transatlantic slave trade: that there weren’t enough ships that could have been built during the time of slavery to support the numerical accounts of the slave trade that are mainstream in standard American history. Right now we don’t import nearly as many goods from the African coast as we do from South America. If shipping and shipping technology has increased so much, why don’t we get more from Western Africa, which is arguably some of the richest natural resources in the world? It doesn’t add up. He drew the inference: I don’t refute that [the transatlantic slave trade] didn’t happen. My argument is that it wasn’t at the scale, and it didn’t — it wasn’t to the scale that we’re led to believe.

And he gave a personal angle. Armond traces his own family history through documented Native American tribal lineages (with an ancestor who was one of the first black senators of South Carolina during Reconstruction). Nobody’s from Africa, you know. One of my great, great, great cousins was a senator, the first black senator of South Carolina, and all of our family all trace back to Native American tribes. Nobody — no one has ever said… a lot of times they’ll say this grandparent was a slave, but I also have family that was around during slave time that were free men. The point is that his own family record does not include African origin; it includes Native American origin and various American-born ancestors (some free, some enslaved, all American in deeper-than-displacement ways).

I want to be honest about how I receive these claims. I am not a historian of the transatlantic slave trade, of Reconstruction-era census reclassification, of the relationship between black American and Native American populations in the late nineteenth century, or of the Moorish Science Temple’s historiographical claims. The standard scholarly consensus is that the transatlantic slave trade did transport roughly twelve-and-a-half million Africans across the Atlantic between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries (with perhaps ten and a half million surviving the Middle Passage to arrive in the Americas), and that the contemporary black American population descends primarily — though by no means exclusively — from these forced migrants. The heterodox alternative Armond described exists; it is associated with various Afrocentric and Moorish intellectual movements; it has serious adherents and substantial publication; I do not pretend to evaluate its substantive merits here. What I can say is that something real is being pointed at by these traditions — namely, the substantial historical injuries done to indigenous American populations, the loss of records and identities under colonization, the lived experience of black American communities for whom official histories have often functioned as further injury — even if the specific historical claims about ship numbers, $5 Indians, and reclassification are contested among historians.

What this meant for the meeting: Armond was helping us understand the Sheikh from inside the tradition he comes from. The Moorish Science Temple of America operates inside a particular black American intellectual ecosystem that takes the claim of indigenous-American (rather than African-displaced) identity seriously, and that names this identity Moor rather than Negro or Black. The Sheikh’s identification with Moorish identity, his rejection of Arab Islam as the corruption rather than the original, his strong sense of the Doctrine of Discovery as a foundational Christian injury to non-Christian peoples — all of these positions hang together inside a coherent worldview, even if the worldview is not the mainstream one.

For the fellowship’s purposes, the relevant point is that when we engage someone from inside this tradition, we need to know enough about the tradition to honor what is true in it (the real historical injuries; the genuine spiritual seeking; the legitimate desire for an identity that is not defined by the slave-deportation narrative) while still witnessing to the Christ who stands above all these particular historical traditions and offers to all of them the salvation no tradition can produce from within itself. Armond’s contribution to the meeting was substantial precisely because he is positioned, by his own heritage and his own intellectual journey, to do this kind of bridge-work better than the rest of us can. The fellowship is bigger when Armond is in it, the same way it is bigger when Leonard is in it.

XV. The Joseph Smith First Vision Question

Late in the debrief, Susan returned to the Mormonism question with one more piece. The vision that Joseph Smith had — he said different versions where he explains it differently — but he said that God the Father and the Son appeared to him. I feel like that contradicts the Bible.

The contradiction Susan was pointing at is John 1:18 (no man hath seen God at any time) and 1 John 4:12 (no man hath seen God at any time). The biblical position is that the Father has never been seen directly by any human being in his unmediated essence; what humans have seen are theophanies (manifestations of God in some visible form) and Christophanies (pre-incarnate appearances of the Son), with the Son himself being the visible image of the invisible God (Col 1:15, John 14:9). Joseph Smith’s First Vision account (in its 1838 canonical form) includes a direct visual experience of both the Father and the Son standing together in a grove in upstate New York. On the standard biblical reading, this would be an unprecedented kind of vision, one that has no parallel in the canonical record and that conflicts with the categorical statements in John 1:18 and 1 John 4:12.

She also noted what is established in Mormon historical scholarship and what some LDS apologists acknowledge: that Joseph Smith gave different accounts of the First Vision at different times. Multiple versions exist (the 1832, 1835, 1838, and 1842 accounts), and they differ on details including who appeared, what was said, and the circumstances. This is not a fringe critique; it is documented in mainstream LDS-history scholarship. The variations have been explained variously (Joseph emphasizing different aspects to different audiences; memory development over time; theological refinement), but the variations are real.

I want to record what Susan said and my response after thinking over this question throughout the week, because it bears on the spirit-behind-religion framework: It is impossible to know the reality of the spirit behind the vision. As Christians, being warned by scripture of impostors, our first thought is that it may be Satan, disguised as an angel of light, but we don’t know that for certain. Maybe it really was Moroni and authorized by God as a true answer to sincere prayer. Joseph Smith may have been given a whole lot of really good/true revelation. Every word of it might have been true and from the throne of God, or it may have been a deception by Satan. The problem is that we cannot know. The person receiving the revelation does not and cannot know, and all the people who hear the testimony of the revelator cannot know. The bottom line is that I am not going to replace the canon of the apostolic witness with the new revelation. I will listen to anyone. I will try to extract value from their revelation. I note and applaud what is consistent with the Biblical canon. I will disagree with anything that is clearly opposing scripture. I will consider anything that does not contradict the Biblical canon and see if it enriches my larger picture of life.

One thing to realize about a new revelation is that it changes our worldview and instills a new spirit within us. If it is a good/Godly spirit, that is good, and bad if not. I don’t think we can be absolute in our judgment of facts and spirits. We should judge and try them all, but we may be wrong. This is the reason why we should hold our top-level standard of truth sacred. If we hold the Bible as true, as the canon of life, and all other testimony as provisional, we will order our lives around that spirit, which I believe is the Holy Spirit, and in time, all will be revealed, and we will suffer only a little and not deeply as a result of our error. Such tentative holding should include the news, facts about events, political commentary, gossip, and group beliefs. All this information is unavoidable, but it should be held at a distance from the center of one’s being/soul.

On visions by other people, hold them lightly. Assume they are told in good faith, recognize that they are deeply personal and meaningful to the visionary. They may be true/Godly, and maybe not. They are not canon. If they contradict scripture, disbelieve it. If it’s non-contradictory, hold it loosely and test it with logic and test of consistency with reality, the Bible, and personal experience.

I can’t see into the spirit world, and I don’t know how Satan thinks for certain, but it makes sense to me that if Satan wants people to worship him, a really effective method would be to send them false prophets who didn’t realize they were spreading the Gospel of Satan. All that is necessary to advance the Kingdom of Satan is to pass on messages that add to the canon without contradiction. If a new sect/group/denomination/cult can form that follows the revelation of the new prophet, and that new prophet is placed at a higher or equal esteem/veracity/worship/respect/embrace as the Biblical canon, then it is possible to turn the multi-vocal Biblical spirit into a mono-multi-vocal spirit. The spirit of the revelator is not separable from the message (the medium is not all of the message, but it is part of the message and changes the character of the message to match the spirit of the revelator. This dilutes the believer’s power/influence/force for promoting the spirit of the Bible. He has been diluted in his witness for the Biblical canon and its multi-vocal liberty. The person who follows a restoration/new revelation/latter-day prophet/revelator will necessarily be divided in his loyalty to the Biblical canon as truth and the new/more restored/more correct revelation of the revelator. If I were Satan, and I wanted to weaken the effect of the Biblical canon, the multi-vocal world of God, I would give the new prophet a vision that was exactly the same as the Biblical canon, and then include all sorts of revelation that may or may not be true, and make the new revelation very attractive/exciting because of its current/fresh/new/modern content. There may not be a single thing that is wrong/false in the revelation, but it will take focus away from the Biblical canon and will necessarily draw at least some focus onto the revelator. This is a benefit to the kingdom of Satan, and the people of God are split into the latter-day restoration schism and those who follow/give attention to the new Revelator.

If the Biblical canon is true and the new scripture/revelation is actually different, then the student/follower/disciple will be inviting demons into his heart, since the source of the error was not from God. If the new revelation is exactly the same thing as scripture, but differently stated, not contradictory, but additive, then people will not resist the teaching and will willingly invite the spirit of the new revelator into their hearts. If the source of that new revelation is demonic, then the result of worshiping, following, or putting their allegiance in that man and his scripture and his words, and giving their heart to that spirit that was behind it, a spiritual portal has been created that allows Satan to have influence. He would never allow such an influence in knowingly, but if deeply disguised, using the patterns of authenticity, looking like the Biblical Canon, they think they’re following Jesus, but they have opened the door to influence by another spirit.

This is sharp language, and I want it on the record because it represents where my view has landed after this week’s work and Sunday’s meeting. I do not believe Leonard is consciously following Satan; I believe Leonard is a brother in Christ whose primary allegiance is to Jesus and whose secondary commitments are to a tradition whose foundational visions and revelations may come from a source that is not what it claims to be. The structural concern is genuine. The pastoral posture toward Leonard remains unchanged: love him, honor him, walk with him, point him to Christ, pray for him, and accept that the Spirit will do whatever further work the Spirit chooses in his own time.

XVI. Closing Exchange — Speak Truth in Love, Make Your Words Sweet

After Susan led us in prayer and signed off, Armond and I lingered on the call for another exchange, an important footnote to an already rich meeting.

Armond came back to the question of how to engage in dialogue without a combat posture. He was reflecting on the Sheikh’s encounter and on what we might do differently next time. Throughout the interaction, he was thinking about how we get aligned as a one-world nation. How do we get in alignment with Muslims, with Buddhists, with Thomas, with everybody? How do we establish that? I think it happens through interactions like that. I did get an idea of how we can get closer to it as we figure out the rules of engagement. We’ve got to frame the rules of engagement properly, so that no one’s coming into it with the gauntlet up, ready to fight. Instead, we’re going into it with “let’s figure this out together.” We’ve got something we want you to weigh in on. If I listen and learn from you, and you from me, we can both become experts at what we each do. If we weigh in on subjects together, trying to learn. I think that may be the winning form of engagement. If we make our words sweet, it won’t be hard to eat them.

If there is opposition in every interaction, we can frame it as a fight to win or an opportunity to teach and learn. If we learn how to speak the truth in love, as a habit, being with people becomes an easy back-and-forth volley. Armond’s summary captured the seriousness of the conversation: the power of life or death lies in the tongue, which is biblical. (Proverbs 18:21.) So it’s like — how do we speak life into our brothers that are on the path that’s going to lead them to death?

Another principle in this family is the verse from James 1:19: Be quick to listen and slow to speak. That is the rule of engagement we need to develop further. The fellowship has been doing reasonably well on it within our own circle. We need to learn to extend the same grace, peace, and ease in listening and speaking in our interfaith and inter-tradition encounters. For the Christian Underground project to succeed, we will need to be heard, and the door to being heard is hearing, not necessarily agreeing, but actually caring.

XVII. Synthesis and Open Threads

The meeting did not resolve the issues. Probably no fellowship meeting on this scale of substantive challenge ever does. What I think we came away with:

On the Mormonism thread. Leonard’s reframing of Denver Snuffer’s Gethsemane account (as both-and rather than either-or with the Cross) was significant and I owe him the acknowledgment that my prior diagnostic claim was sharper than the text supports. The deeper structural concern — the spectrum-placement of Mormonism partway from the multi-vocal end toward the mono-vocal end, regardless of content compatibility — remains operative. Leonard remains a brother whose primary allegiance is to Christ and with whom fellowship across denominational lines is real and edifying.

On the canon question. The criterion of apostolic provenance for canon-recognition is what I am operating under, with the canon effectively closing around the end of the first century with the last apostolic writings. Post-apostolic deposits (the Mormon, the Moorish, the Islamic, the Christian Science, etc.) are not categorically the same as the apostolic deposit and should not be treated as such, even where their content does not overtly contradict the biblical canon.

On the Sheikh encounter. Sheikh Ra Sadiq presented an American-Moorish-Islamic position that is substantially more peaceful and accommodating than the classical Islamic doctrines the reading list had prepared us to engage. His tradition (Moorish Science Temple of America, founded by Noble Drew Ali in the early twentieth century) operates within its own historical and theological frame that requires dedicated study to engage well. The Islam reading list I had compiled was useful but insufficient for engaging with this particular interlocutor; an MSTA-specific reading list would be needed for serious follow-up.

On Charlie’s Pharisee question. The question remains alive and merits further work. The Spirit’s internal witness combined with the external referents available to a multi-vocal canon is the best answer I have, and Section IV develops it in some detail through my own testimony. But the limit of what can be argued from outside the Spirit’s witness remains something I need to keep in front of me.

On Armond’s Islamic Leonard observation. This is one of the most useful sociological-pastoral observations to emerge from any of the recent fellowship meetings. The category of serious adult-formed mono-vocal-tradition adherent is real, and the pastoral posture toward such adherents is the same across traditions. We will encounter more of them. Knowing the shape will help.

On the rules of engagement question. The fellowship needs to develop a more articulated method for interfaith and inter-tradition dialogue that avoids the default of both sides in a combat posture. Some elements: ask first, listen long; honor what is true in the other tradition before naming what is false; do not assume the other person has internalized the worst of their tradition (the Sheikh’s Islam is genuinely peaceful); know enough about the other tradition to engage it from inside its own categories where possible; speak the truth in love and make your words sweet.

Open threads for future work:

1. Luke 19:27 in its parabolic context — worth its own short fellowship piece, because the misuse of this verse by interlocutors hostile to Christianity is likely to recur, and the parable structure of Luke 19:11-27 should be in the fellowship’s working knowledge.
2. Isaiah 45:7 and the problem of evil — Susan’s answer (definitional rather than substantive creation of evil) is sound but compressed; the question deserves a fuller fellowship treatment, especially since the problem of evil is one of the most common challenges any Christian witness faces.
3. The Joseph Smith First Vision variations — well-documented in mainstream LDS-historical scholarship, and the John 1:18 / 1 John 4:12 tension deserves a careful working-out. A future engagement with Leonard could productively focus on this question.
4. A Moorish Science Temple of America reading list — to complement the Islam reading list, in case future fellowship engagement with the MSTA continues. Noble Drew Ali’s Circle 7 Koran, the academic literature on the MSTA (Susan Nance’s How the Arabian Nights Inspired the American Dream, Edward Curtis’s various works on African-American Islam, Sylviane Diouf’s Servants of Allah on Muslim slaves in the Americas), and the relationship between MSTA, the Nation of Islam, and broader American Muslim traditions.
5. The black-American-historical-identity question — Armond’s contributions opened a substantive area that the fellowship has not yet engaged seriously. The Doctrine of Discovery, the historical injuries to indigenous Americans, the heterodox traditions about indigenous vs. imported origins of black Americans, and the role these histories play in shaping black American religious identity (including the MSTA and the Nation of Islam) deserve fellowship-level study, especially if the Christian Underground project is going to do substantive witness in black American communities.
6. The rules-of-engagement project for interfaith dialogue — possibly a fellowship working-paper on method, building on Armond’s question. How does the Christian Underground develop the capacity to engage Muslim, Mormon, Moorish, Buddhist, Hindu, secular-humanist, and other interlocutors substantively without defaulting to combat posture? This is method-work, not doctrine-work, and it is what the next phase of the fellowship’s witness will require.
7. Charlie’s hang-gliding-pilot illustration of the Spirit — worth recording on its own and developing into something the fellowship can carry. You can’t see the wind. If you could, it would terrify you, because it is wild. There are currents going up and down and sideways and forward and back, and you’ve got to feel it every moment and adapt to it. And that’s a lot like God’s Spirit. Charlie’s illustration of John 3:8 from the contemporary English version is genuinely useful pastoral teaching and should be elevated.
8. Michael Sherman conversation — I need to respond to his email regarding Islam, which questioned my assertions about Islam, which were picked from statements in my essay on the Islam reading list.
9. The Psalm 22 / cross / fulfilled-prophecy thread — Leonard’s observation that Christ on the cross was quoting Psalm 22:1 (and, by implication, identifying himself with the entire prophetic Psalm that describes the crucifixion in advance) is a profound insight that the fellowship had not previously articulated. A short essay tracing the Psalm 22 / Isaiah 53 / Daniel 9:24-27 / Zechariah 12:10 prophetic-cluster as the multivocal scriptural confirmation of the cross-event would be worth producing for the fellowship’s discipleship work.
10. The mono-vocal / multi-vocal spectrum and the institutional-tyranny axis as CRF candidates — the framework I developed in Sections I, IV, and XIII is the kind of formal apparatus that the CRF derivation workflow is for. The axiom-candidates (e.g., language conventions are not neutral; revelation comes through human media; the credibility of a revelation correlates with the breadth of its external-referent validation; freedom in Christ is an objective criterion of religious authenticity), the theorem-candidates (e.g., mono-vocal sources are structurally weaker in validation than multi-vocal sources of the same authority claim), and the conjecture-candidates (e.g., the institutional layer post-prophet is structurally prone to greater tyranny than the founding prophet exhibited) are all here in the essay’s argument. Filed for CRF derivation work.

Closing Reflection

It was a long meeting. It went in directions none of us had planned. The pre-meeting plan — continue the Mormonism conversation, perhaps land at a clearer mutual understanding with Leonard — got displaced by Michael’s surprise arrival with the Sheikh, and the encounter that followed was rougher than expected. But the rougher encounter was, in retrospect, exactly what the fellowship needed. The spirit-behind-religion framework we had been developing in the abstract met two living instances of the pattern in one meeting, and the framework held up well enough to be useful while also being stretched in ways that revealed its limits. The mono-vocal / multi-vocal spectrum and the separate institutional-tyranny axis are real and important. The Spirit’s internal witness, as the final court for distinguishing true from false revelators, combined with the external-referent validation that the multi-vocal canon makes available, is the right epistemic structure. The pastoral love that the fellowship must extend to brothers and sisters inside mono-vocal-tradition systems is real and important. None of these is in tension with the others; all three need to be held together.

Armond’s observation was important; the Shiekh was an Islamic Leonard. Sheikh Ra Sadiq is, structurally, the same kind of seeker as Leonard. Leonard is like Charlie was when he was deep in Mormon practice before his and Susan’s long emergence. And Charlie is the as a Mormon was the same kind of seeker I was as an American Sikh, as a young yogi practicing under Yogi Bhajan before the Bible found me and the physics confirmed it. The pattern of the human being committed to a particular mono-vocal tradition, seeking to experience the love, knowledge, and experienceof God is not foreign to me. There is no shame in seeking. Only the seeker who finds. As people more grounded and satisfied in the faith, seeking only to please God, I have been that person. It is important for all of us to extend a pastoral posture (loving neighbor as self) to the Sheikh, Leonard, and anyone in that category. It is the posture I wanted extended to me forty years ago. My parents did it, lived it, and continued to love and support me for the 10 years I was searching in non-Biblical fields for that pearl of great price. I know I had many people praying for me, and it may have been their prayers, and my intense desire to know the truth, which was a type of visceral, unspoken prayer, that God gave me the vision that changed my life. We cannot see the spiritual forces acting in our lives, but we can apply the Biblical prescription (Matthew 7:7): “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” We cannot know for certain what will be effective, but I do believe that asking, seeking, and knocking for ourselves and those we love has an effect, eventually. This was the care extended to me by the patient witnesses, who continued to point me toward Christ and remain faithful witnesses to the fruit.

The fellowship is doing what fellowships are supposed to do. The Christian Underground is the practice of doing it sustainably over years. The Spirit is at work. The work is harder than the framework makes it sound. Sunday was a good Sunday.

— Thomas