YouTube, the KJV, and the Onset of the End Times
Written: March 25, 2025
YouTube, the KJV, and the Onset of the End Times
Around 2017, I began creating Bible study videos on YouTube. My purpose was not fame, but rather to spread the truth of the King James Bible. I purchased a microphone and a few simple tools, then set out to produce videos using SwordSearcher — a Bible study software — focusing on word studies and cross-referencing passages. At the time, I was primarily reading the New Testament, so these word searches became a way for me to dive into the Old Testament as well. The intent was evangelistic: to make the KJV known and get people saved.
I viewed myself as a kind of amateur broadcaster — not a preacher in the pulpit, but someone using a global platform to reach souls. YouTube has over a billion users, many of whom speak English. If I could contribute even a small voice pointing people to the truth of God's word, I felt it would be worth it. My channel had only 55 subscribers, so it remained a small project, but the goal was sincere and spiritually motivated.
However, what unfolded was not what I expected. Instead of spreading light, the platform gradually began to feel like a battlefield — more like a digital gladiator arena than a mission field. As I continued making videos, I began to notice that the community of KJV-only, faith-alone believers on YouTube was extremely small — surprisingly so, considering that the KJV is the most sold book in the world and the platform reaches over a billion people. You could almost subscribe to every active voice in the movement. The community’s small size meant that any new voice stood out, and not always in a good way.
Over time, a pattern emerged. New broadcasters would begin uploading videos, and soon after, they would stop. Some tried to interact and collaborate, but something unseen seemed to divide and discourage. What should have been a fellowship of truth became a space filled with tension, rivalry, and burnout.
I began to suspect that this wasn’t just a coincidence, but something designed — a shift in the underlying system. It became clear that YouTube’s algorithm wasn’t neutral. The platform no longer supported Christian voices as it once had. What used to be a free environment for spreading the word of God started to subtly reward controversy, confrontation, and personal ambition. Videos that stirred conflict got pushed; videos that spoke quiet truth were buried.
This coincided with a change in YouTube's leadership. During the time the platform was led by a Jewish CEO, Christians seemed to have more breathing room. But after leadership shifted to someone of Tamil origin — from a background where Christians are actively persecuted — the environment shifted. This might seem like a coincidence, but it aligned with the rising sense that centralized technology was no longer friendly to Christian content. Instead, it had become a tool of opposition.
What followed was algorithmic sabotage. It became clear that the system was turning Christian broadcasters against each other. The small KJV community became a space where envy, suspicion, and rivalry were artificially fed. The algorithm acted like a serpent in the garden, whispering to men, You must outshine the others. There can only be one. A kind of digital quickening took over — not unlike the concept from Highlander, where only one can remain. It wasn’t about truth anymore. It was about visibility, clicks, and staying relevant in a shrinking arena.
This experience led me to a realization: we were witnessing the early stages of end-times infrastructure — not through open persecution, but through engineered division and algorithmic control. The system doesn’t need to silence Christians overtly. It simply needs to isolate, discourage, and distort their message. It feeds them to each other, then buries what’s left.
This wasn’t just an experience. It was a warning. When platforms designed to connect instead divide, when truth becomes unsearchable, and when the few who speak it are algorithmically choked out — we are not in ordinary times. We are at the doorstep of something foretold.