By Abinadi, Awaiting Death
The hour is near.
The guards no longer speak to me. They look away when I raise my eyes. I hear the priests debating my fate behind the walls of cedar and stone—but I already know. They will silence my voice.
Yet I cannot help but hope.
Hope that my words have found a seedbed in at least one heart.
There was one. A young priest. His eyes were different—not narrowed in scorn like the others, but wide with something that looked like remembrance. As I spoke of Isaiah, and of the Christ who would suffer and redeem, I saw his spirit wrestle with truth. He did not speak aloud, but his silence was not of resistance—it was of awakening.
O Lord, let Alma live.
Let him flee these halls of corruption and priestcraft. Let him carry in his heart the words which have burned in mine. Let him remember that Thou desirest not sacrifice, but a broken heart and a contrite spirit. Let him declare to the people what I could not finish. Let him teach them that redemption cometh only through Thy Son, the Eternal Father made flesh.
“When thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed…”
—Isaiah 53:10
I am content to be slain, if one will rise in my stead.
If that man, Alma, shall go into the wilderness, and preach to the people, and bear record of Thy Son—then my chains shall not have been in vain, and the flames shall only purify my offering.
Alma, if thou readest this—or if these words come to thee in remembrance—be not afraid. The Lord will make thee mighty, even in the eyes of those who seek thy life. Go. Teach. Baptize. Cry repentance. Prepare a people to receive the Christ when He shall come.
Though my voice shall fall silent in the flesh, let my testimony live in thee.
Tell them:
- That God Himself shall come down among the children of men.
- That He shall suffer temptation, pain, hunger, thirst, and death.
- That He shall take upon Himself the sins of the world to satisfy justice.
- That those who believe on His name and repent shall be saved.
Tell them that I knew it. Tell them that I gave my life for it.
Let my death be but a beginning.
O Lord, I give Thee my witness, and I give Thee my life.
Raise up the next voice. Let the truth walk again in the streets. And may Alma—my brother in belief—carry the message I will not live to finish.
—Abinadi, a witness in fire, a servant unto death
