Jerome, we have a disagreement. I do not think that Scripture, the Old Testament and the New Testament are equal in nature to the Book of Mormon and the other books you listed. While those contain some true things, I do not believe that they contain The Truth of the Matter, as I used that term above.
A quick example... The Book of Mormon conflicts with Revelations, so they cannot both be correct. It is logically possible that they are both INcorrect, but it does not stand up to reason that they can say opposite things and both be correct. There is an absolute truth. Relativism is a good thing for how to treat people, i.e., you are worth as much as am I and neither of us is worth more than any other, but it is not a good thing when attempting to deduce truth. If you accept that anything CAN be true, then nothing is. But if you accept that there IS a truth, then the matter becomes one of seeking it out. What makes the most sense? What fits best with our observations and best meets the tests of logic and reason (bearing in mind that much of what some people observe is not reasonable).
So, with a little application of classical logic, when you say that all these books are equal, what you are in effect saying is that they are all incorrect. That none of them contain the Truth of the Matter. To that assertion, I respectfully disagree.
To your assertion that the truth of creation is written in Creation itself, I heartily agree. It is by that measure that I have determined my choice of what faith to follow.
To Old Doll, just a little story to show you that all paid professional holy men aren't what you observed (as you observed yourself with your current priest), another little story that demonstrates the best example of Christian love I have seen from the pulpit.
I grew up in the seventies. As a young man, I lived in an Appalachian valley in Pennsylvania. It was rural, some industry, and extremely conservative (not in the political sense but in the daily living sense). Parents still had their boys wearing crew cuts, etc. In the town, there was a college. The college kids did not look like the town kids. Not by a long shot. Anyway, I attended an old-school Methodist church. Complete with pews with plaques saying which family donated them and those seats were "passed down" from generation to generation. Everyone dressed for church, and the old ladies coated themselves in lilac & rose water until the sanctuary smelled sickeningly sweet. The Sanctuary was on the second floor. The first floor foyer was in the flood zone of the Susquehanna River, and so was also elevated up eight or ten steps. The doors were enormous walnut and elaborately carved. An impressive entrance. To get to the sanctuary, one had to climb those stairs, go through the impressive entryway, and go up a flight of stairs that was twenty to twenty-five steps high. Then, at the start of service doors were closed at the back of the sanctuary. Again, impressively large carved walnut doors. To enter after service had begun, one had to first climb to the second floor foyer and then open those forboding walnut doors. Then come into the aisle and find a seat in a pew.
One Sunday, the choir was singing. In the old Methodist churches, the pastor always sang with the choir, and because he had a microphone in the pulpit he was always the loudest. Well, the choir was singing, and the doors creaked open. In walked a college kid. Long hair. Tye-die shirt. Jeans with holes in the knees and walked off cuffs. Clunky sandals. He looked bad and smelled worse. It took little imagination to determine how he had spent the preceding portion of the weekend. But there he was. If you can think of looking at a person and thinking, "Now there's someone who needs Jesus," this guy was a good example. He walked up the aisle and saw no one make room for him. He turned to leave. And the pastor asked the choir to stop singing. The congregation was wondering how the pastor was going to make an example of this young man - daring to interrupt church and not being properly dressed. He made an example all right, but not as they expected. He said, "Young man, if you can't find a seat, you're welcome to sit with my family in the front. And if you haven't got any plans for lunch, we'd be honored if you'd join us at my home after the service." You could have heard a pin drop. That's the way it's done. I've never forgotten that lesson, and doubt I ever will.
- Big D
Granted B chord amnesty by King of the Mutants (Long live the king).
If it comes from the heart and you add a few beers... it'll be awesome! - Mekidsmom
When in doubt ... hats. - B.G. Dude