Have you ever considered how much faith we place in translators—especially when it comes to sacred texts? These people stand between us and what’s supposed to be a message from God, making choices that shape how we understand the divine. But here’s the real question: How do we know—or trust—that a message is actually from God? I struggled with that for years, and it’s exactly what we will start to unpack today.

This isn’t just about how the words get translated — we know that modern translations can and do preserve the meaning of ancient texts. The real issue is about trust and authority. Who can we trust that will bring us this divine message? What credentials and evidence do we expect when someone claims to speak for God? And when a text like the Book of Mormon arrives with no ancient manuscripts, no corroborating sources, and a translation process that’s more mystery than method, how do we know whether it’s genuinely from God?

Now, before you roll your eyes and say, “Oh no, another seminar on ancient holy books. Sounds riveting,”—hear me out. This isn’t just about words on a page. It’s about how a book that claims to be from God comes to us and whether how it did is reliable.

Here’s the deal: every sacred text, including the Bible, has passed through human hands. We know that. The difference with the Bible is that we have thousands of manuscripts, some dating from centuries or even millennia back, which scholars can compare and analyze. Manuscripts differ, of course, but that’s the beauty of textual criticism: we can trace a text’s history, follow its changes, and see why certain choices were made. There’s transparency.

But with the Book of Mormon? It’s a whole different story. The LDS position really is, “Just trust me, bro.” No manuscripts. No external evidence. Just Joseph Smith, a seer stone, and the claim that he translated it by the “gift and power of God.” You either take his word for it, or you don’t. And that’s a massive leap of faith—especially when you start noticing issues in the text itself.

For me, this wasn’t just an abstract theological puzzle. My passion for biblical languages—digging into Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic, comparing translations to get as close as possible to the original meaning—wasn’t just something I picked up for fun. It started because of the Book of Mormon.

I grew up LDS. I was all in. However, as I studied translation and text criticism more deeply, I began to see the cracks—inconsistencies and anachronisms, among many other things. The Book of Mormon’s translation process looked nothing like what I was learning about with the Bible, and that realization hit me hard.

My journey into biblical studies and word analysis wasn’t just academic—it was personal. The more I delved into it, the more I struggled with the Book of Mormon’s translation claims, which ultimately caused me to reassess my faith and eventually leave the LDS church.

We won’t get into all the details at the moment, but know this is not a matter of linguistic oddities or translation strategies; this is a matter of faith, authority, and how much trust we can (or should) put in a translation process that gives us, at best, the defense of “just believe me.” So, let’s dig in.

Framing the Translation Discussion

When we talk about the Book of Mormon as a “translation,” the first question we should ask is—translation of what, exactly? And more importantly, how was it translated? These might seem like simple questions, but when you start pulling at those threads, the whole narrative gets a lot messier than it first appears.

Let’s start with the basics. In biblical studies, there’s an entire spectrum of translation methods. On one end, you’ve got formal equivalence—the word-for-word approach, like what you see in the NASB or ESV. On the other, there’s dynamic equivalence—thought-for-thought translations, like the NIV or NLT, aiming for readability over precision. Both approaches come with trade-offs, and scholars spend lifetimes debating which is “better.”

But here’s where the Book of Mormon throws a curveball: it claims to be something entirely different. Joseph Smith wasn’t working with ancient manuscripts spread across a table, wrestling over Hebrew idioms or Greek syntax. According to LDS teachings, he translated the Book of Mormon by the “gift and power of God”—a claim that raises more questions than answers.

We’ll eventually explore the specific issues this raises, but I’ll let you meditate on that for now.

Why Translation Issues Matter

Okay, so why does any of this matter? Who cares if Joseph Smith copied some KJV language or if the translation process was a bit… unorthodox? Well, because the implications go way deeper than just awkward phrasing or outdated grammar. We’re talking about the very heart of what makes the Book of Mormon authoritative (or not) and whether it holds up under the weight of its own claims.

A. Theological Implications: Can a Perfect Text Have Flaws?

The Book of Mormon doesn’t present itself as just another religious book—it claims to be “the most correct book on earth.” That’s a bold statement. It suggests not only divine origin but a level of purity and accuracy unmatched by any other text. And yet, when you start spotting translation inconsistencies, anachronisms, and clear borrowings from the King James Bible (complete with its mistakes), you have to ask: Can a divinely inspired text really have these kinds of flaws?

This isn’t just nitpicking. It’s about the foundational claim of the LDS church—that the Book of Mormon is the keystone of the faith. If the keystone is cracked, what does that mean for everything built on top of it?

B. Doctrinal Consequences: When Translation Shapes Theology

Think about how translation choices affect doctrine. In biblical studies, we see this all the time—translators make decisions that can subtly (or not-so-subtly) influence theological understanding. Words get nuanced differently, and entire doctrines can hinge on how a single phrase is translated.

Now apply that to the Book of Mormon. If Joseph Smith was interpreting as much as he was translating—or if the process was as loose as some suggest—then how much of the theology in the Book of Mormon comes from ancient prophets, and how much comes from Joseph’s 19th-century worldview?

Consider things like baptism for the dead, exaltation, and pre-mortal existence. You may never have heard of these things if you’re a Christian. However, to a Mormon, these aren’t just minor points; they are crucial to LDS theology.

However, suppose these ideas didn’t originate from ancient Native American prophets but were introduced through Joseph Smith’s interpretive process. In that case, that’s a massive problem for the text’s claimed authenticity.

And don’t even get me started on the changes made to the Book of Mormon after its first publication. Since 1830, thousands of edits have been made, ranging from grammar fixes to significant doctrinal clarifications. Why would God let so many mistakes slip through if the original translation was divinely guided?

C. The Bible vs. the Book of Mormon: A Tale of Two Texts

One of my biggest eye-openers was comparing how the Bible and the Book of Mormon handle textual history. With the Bible, we have thousands of manuscripts in Hebrew, Greek, Aramaic, and Latin. We can track textual variants, study scribal habits, and create the most accurate versions possible. Scholars debate endlessly over what’s original and what’s not, but at least there’s data to work with.

The Book of Mormon? We have… nothing. No golden plates. No ancient manuscripts. No textual variants. No way to verify anything.

Yet, the Book of Mormon mimics the Bible’s language so closely that it even includes KJV translation errors. It doesn’t take a seasoned biblical scholar to spot these—anyone who compares the two texts can see them. That raises a critical question: If this is a divinely inspired translation, why does it copy 17th-century KJV translation mistakes word-for-word?

D. Faith, Doubt, and the Power of Critical Thinking

For me, grappling with these translation issues wasn’t just about intellectual curiosity—it was about my faith. Growing up LDS, the Book of Mormon was everything. It was the foundation of my beliefs, faith community, and religious identity.

Funnily enough, I never read it all the way through until adulthood. To this day, I don’t really know if anyone in my family has actually ever read it. But while reading it and trying to do everything in my power to validate my belief in it, I began to just barely scrape the surface of biblical languages, translation methods, and textual criticism; but I couldn’t unsee the inconsistencies.

For many Mormons who get to this point, it’s the end of faith altogether. Many ex-Mormons become atheists. There is so much indoctrination in the LDS church that the majority of devoted Mormons cannot fathom a world where the LDS faith isn’t the true faith. So they deconstruct and say, “If the LDS god isn’t the real God, then the real God doesn’t exist.”

But here’s the thing—this kind of questioning doesn’t have to destroy faith. In fact, it can deepen it. But it does require honesty and a willingness to confront hard truths. For me, that meant acknowledging that the Book of Mormon’s translation process didn’t hold up under scrutiny, no matter how much I wanted it to. But it didn’t mean it was time to give up on God.

So, why do these translation issues matter? Because they challenge the very core of the Book of Mormon’s claims. At the end of the day, if we’re going to base our faith on a text, we should know precisely where that text comes from, how it was created, and whether its claims can withstand critical examination.

Setting the Stage for Critical Exploration

So, where does all of this leave us? It’s a lot to take in and only starts to scrape the surface. But perhaps now you understand why this subject was so unsettling to me. When a text proclaiming itself “the most correct book on earth” begins to crack, it’s hard not to wonder what else might unravel.

That’s precisely why this conversation matters. Trust is everything when it comes to sacred texts, especially ones that shape entire faiths. The Bible reinforces that trust reinforced by manuscripts, historical context, and centuries of textual criticism. Sure, it’s been through the hands of humans. Still, we can trace its lineage (through both its own written and verbal traditions and secular accounts), see the changes, and understand the process. There’s transparency—even when it reveals imperfections.

The Book of Mormon, on the other hand, asks for trust without offering the same transparency. There are no manuscripts, historical context, and no way to verify the translation process. It just says, “Trust me, bro,” and hopes that’s enough.

For me, it wasn’t. When I peeled back those layers, I found that the foundation I had built my faith upon was not solid. That fact was both terrifying and liberating. It caused me to rethink everything—not just the Book of Mormon but how I viewed faith, scripture, and truth itself.

But here’s the thing: questioning doesn’t have to be the end of faith. It may be a starting point for a deeper, more honest journey. It was for me. I did not lose my love for scripture; it actually grew.

I dove deeper into the Bible, word studies, and the rich complexities of texts that have shaped humanity for thousands of years. And I found something real there that didn’t rely on blind trust but on evidence, history, and a deep respect for the text itself.

So, as we wrap up this post for today, I want to leave you with a couple of questions to think about:

• If a text claims divine origins but lacks any external evidence—no manuscripts, no historical records—how do we responsibly evaluate its authenticity?
• Does divine inspiration excuse human error, or should a “perfect” text be just that—perfect?
• When a “translation” of an ancient text mirrors a 17th-century English Bible—complete with its mistakes—does that suggest divine inspiration or something else?
• Can a translation process that relies entirely on personal revelation, with no verifiable source material, provide a reliable foundation for faith?

I don’t expect everyone to land where I did. Some people are perfectly comfortable taking the Book of Mormon at face value. Others, like me, need more evidence, transparency, and honesty.

But no matter where you are on that spectrum, I hope this post has piqued some curiosity and critical thinking. Because sacred texts should be given this level of attention. They mold lives, communities, and worldviews. And if we’re going to let them do that, shouldn’t we know exactly what we’re dealing with?

In the next few posts, we’ll dive even deeper—looking at specific translation inconsistencies, anachronisms, and how the Book of Mormon’s language compares to the King James Bible and 19th-century American English. It’s going to get nerdy but in the best way.

And hey, if you’ve got thoughts or questions or just want to argue about KJV errors, drop a comment. I’d love to hear your thoughts—whether you agree, disagree, or fall somewhere in between. Because at the end of the day, that’s what this is all about: honest, thoughtful exploration of faith, scripture, and truth.