One Year and Counting

Exactly one year ago, as of 08:22 CAT this morning (15 December 2014), I was confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. One year, exactly, and what a year it’s been.

I’ve been to the Temple (baptisms only) and distribution centre, completed this year’s Institute modules, done Home Teaching, received both the Aaronic and Melchizedek Priesthood, given talks, taught lessons, blessed and passed the Sacrament, given blessings, gone out teaching with the missionaries, been called as a Ward Missionary, attended PEC and coordination meetings, handed in my mission papers, completed tithing settlement, attended firesides (spoke to Elder Hamilton) and went to activities (ward, stake and multi-stake), participated in Helping Hands projects and the Stake Fair, and even experienced mission life as a Priest through a coordinated Centurion Stake activity.

And to think, just over a year ago I tried to prove the Church wrong.

This is my life now. I have people waiting to talk to me in places almost too far to schedule, daily conversations over WhatsApp and Facebook and intense discussions with friends and family – all because, “I want to hear Jonothan’s explanation first.”

It can be frustrating at times, though. Often, I find that me teaching them goes well, but the moment I involve missionaries everything seems to go awry. They talk to me, but not to them (and this goes both ways – missionaries and informal investigators).

I have a friend who asks me, and only me, questions about the scriptures and gospel doctrine and principles. I have an inactive member just hanging on a thread, making excuses every time I mention the word missionary, but openly discusses with me and constantly requests that I visit. I have a family friend waiting for me to tell him about the Church, but won’t see the missionaries, listen to anyone else or read anything related until such time as I find a chance to visit (which may very well be good with regards to Anti-Mormon literature).

I’ve had had positive and enthusiastic referrals who simply fell off the radar after meeting with (or trying to meet with) missionaries. I’ve had missionaries stand up investigators and investigators stand up missionaries. I’ve had cancelled appointments and wrong addresses and all no-shows.

But the change I see in my friends and family since I joined the Church has been remarkable. My immediate family sees the missionaries every other Sunday. My friends are constantly on my case about when I leave for mission and my best friend (who happens to be agnostic) witnessed my ordination to Elder out of his own free will; seriously, he asked me if he could come.

Beyond that, I’ve made friends trying to preach the gospel and planted seeds wherever I could.

As bad as the response often is, beauty almost always shines through.

It feels like a decade has passed, but it’s only been a year. And I am grateful for all the people who came into my life to make a difference. I’m grateful for the missionaries from the start, even though I often complain. It is thanks to them that I am on the path I am on; for they guided me towards truth and, in all their patience, I finally accepted.

So I felt like making a list of all the people who helped make me the Latter-day Saint I am today.

• Kevin Farquharson, who I knew before the world was.
• Shan Farquharson, who sussed me out from the start.
• Dylan Farquharson, who invited me over the night I met the missionaries.
• Elder Beenfield (Daniel Beenfield), the first missionary I ever met.
• Elder Black (Jordan Black), who lied about not being American.
• Elder Dalton (Dakota Dalton), who owes me a photo – now that I think about it.
• Elder Baker (Alex Baker), who I taught about John’s tarrying.
• Elder Zulu (Siyabonga Armstrong Zulu), the first non-American missionary I ever met.
• Elder Tew (David Tew), who I saw as an older brother.
• Elder Mukarati (Alphaa Alphanum Mukarati), the first foreign, non-American missionary I met.
• Elder Day (Brandon Day), who I’ll meet at Tribulation.
• Elder Deichman, my first unofficial companion (Priest's mission experience).
• Elder Carpenter, who made me shake my head more than twice.
• Elder Pulley, who sang me a generic song I swear he plagiarised.
• Elder McAllister, who took me teaching everywhere (most of the time).
• Elder Martin, who loves Diablo III – as well.
• Elder Broadhead, who hugged me without my permission.

So this is my journey thus far. Missionary work seems to be the focus, but soon I’ll be doing my dad’s work and have my chaotic family tree up and running on the genealogy site. Then comes my endowments and then I’m off to mission. I hope I at least get to experience a couple of Institute lessons – it is Doctrine & Covenants, after all.

It's the Waiting Game

It’s the waiting game. It’s the realisation that people are not infallible. And it’s the sudden bursts of fulfilment, then the extended periods of nothing. It’s called patience. It’s called trial. It’s called strength, perseverance; yes, it’s endurance.

When I joined the Church, I thought, “Finally… men and women with righteous standards.” I believed, as the true Church, that concerns with regards to behaviour and self-conduct would be far from my mind. Two months into my membership and that dream was shattered. My first YSA activity (a Valentine’s dance); what a let-down.

I went from an all-time high to an immediate low. From expecting wholesome entertainment to unveiling secret combinations. I found the ones who were just as bad as, if not worse than, the typical modern world. It ended up being a night about who’s did the worst thing. From starting fires (proudly), to drinking, smoking and getting tattoos. Topics of sex and images of half-dressed men and women filled the air. I didn’t know what to do.

I went home that night and thought, “What’s the point?” If LDS YSAs are exactly the same as every other young single adult, why even bother monitoring close-knit group of friends? They did say that hard decisions would need to be made with regards to my non-member friends and that it would be difficult, but beneficial for my development as a convert. But my friends held true to what THEY believed in. Even though our standards differed, they stood by theirs. Granted, they pushed at my newly developed standards. But let’s be fair, they were new. Of course it’d take time for them to settle in.

I took a long hard look at myself and went forward in prayer. It wasn’t long before I realised that my entire outlook was wrong. Not everyone is perfect; in fact, no man (and for those feminists out there, I mean woman as well) is perfect. And just because they grew up in the Church doesn’t mean anything. Just because someone is a member or not, living the Gospel or not, doesn’t mean I should filter them out. Because, at the end of the day, the walls I build won’t keep them out, they’ll just keep me in.

My salvation is my own responsibility. It doesn’t matter what they do. I just need to do what I need to do. I’m not here to judge anyone or to tell anyone how to live their life. I just need to realise that not everyone is the same. I need to realise that opposition will come and views will clash. The important thing is how I react to those situations.

Do I cast someone out? Dissociate myself? Or do I follow the council of the Holy One of Israel and “love thy neighbour”? You see, what you do is up to you, and what I do is up to me. I can either leave you and avoid association completely, or stick by you and grow as a person.

I remember The Gospel of Jesus Christ, which Nephi so clearly explains, and remind myself that it was (and is) the fifth point I was (and am) on; endurance. There was a recent convert I taught with the missionaries and he said that endurance was a synonym for survival. Maybe. No. It’s more than that. Endurance is the ability to continue unhindered, whereas survival implies some level of damage. Endurance is there to strengthen us, to build us, to encourage us and to keep us on that strait and narrow.

As Elder Tew pointed out, we are to endure well. As Elder McAllister pointed out, we are to joyfully endure. It puts a slight spin on things when we begin to realise exactly what it means to endure. To endure means to keep the commandments and continue as the Lord expects. Endurance may be the final step in The Gospel of Jesus Christ, but it’s also the most important. It’s the start of our journey with Christ and the end of our journey finding our testimony in Him. Now we know the truth. Now we are more liable than we were before.

What does that mean? It means that it is my responsibility to keep my second estate and love my “neighbour”. It means that, even if standards differ, I cannot judge. It means that it is my duty to be joyful, uplifting, encouraging, and caring, regardless of the situation. It is my responsibility to keep my friends and make new ones; regardless of their views or situation. And to stay true to my covenants all at the same time.

So I did. I kept my non-member friends, who talk to me about the Bible, listen to me when it comes to the Gospel, inform others of my standards, and check in on me with regards to my mission preparation. I made new friends (the one’s at the Valentine’s dance), who accompany me to every YSA activity, hug me when they see me, talk to me when I’m around, and get excited with me when I learn or do something new.

But then there are the moments where you don’t. The moments where the lessons seem to come slower and the realisations come to an end (or so they seem). It’s the long drawn out process of delays with mission papers, faltering steps with family and getting into the routine of being a ward missionary. It’s when you feel you aren’t learning anything and you feel as if things could just continue as they are.

But they can’t.

It’s times like this when I’m reminded of Christ’s teachings to the Nephites in 3 Nephi 12:3: “Yea, blessed are the poor in spirit who come unto me, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Unlike Matthew 5, 3 Nephi 12 elaborates more on what Christ taught. Here, it specifies that those who come unto Him, even though they are poor in Spirit, shall inherit the Kingdom of Heaven. It encourages us to keep doing the things we need to do, despite the absence of motivation and/or encouragement. It inspires us to continue, to press forward with steadfastness and hope, even a surety of the promised blessings to those who are faithful.

I know that Jesus is the Christ, that He is my Saviour and Redeemer, even yours. I know that trials are there to strengthen us and to build us. And I know that these moments of silence are there to test our loyalty to Him and to keep us moving when all things seem to be going awry. I can see another set of bursts awaiting as I receive my advancement, endowments and mission call in the month(s) to come.

I may feel drained and stagnated now, but there are lessons to be learnt. There is patience to be built and fostering of seeds planted to take place. These are the moments that define us the most and I’m honoured to know all this, to experience it (because that is why we came to earth after all… to experience the things we never could).

What is a Missionary?

Merriam-Webster defines being a missionary as follows:

“1mis·sion·ary noun \ˈmi-shə-ˌner-ē\
: a person who is sent to a foreign country to do religious work (such as to convince people to join a religion or to help people who are sick, poor, etc.)”

I find this answer somewhat curious. Even in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, people think that the missionaries are the people who go from door-to-door, finding people to preach to, teaching them, and baptising them. Yes, it does fulfil a role, but this (predominantly) is the role of a Full-time Missionary.

Let’s get nit-picky with words and their definitions. A Full-time Missionary is someone who spends his/her time teaching the Gospel, exclusively. Usually, they are sent to a foreign country, but sometimes not. These are the people who go knocking on doors, handing out Scriptures, teach the Gospel, and encourage baptism. This is what most people see when they think of missionary work.

A famous Baptist preacher said, “Every Christian is either a missionary or an imposter.”

How does this influence our understanding of what a missionary is? Does this mean that it is every Christian’s responsibility to spread the word of God? Does this mean that every Christian needs to go on a mission “to a foreign country to do religious work”?

Let’s consider 1 Peter 3:15 (KJV):

“But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear:”

A Church publication, True to the Faith, states:

“Missionary work includes helping and supporting those who join the Church.”

So what does this mean? It means we need to be ready to answer for our beliefs at all time; our testimony needs to be intact. It means that we spread the Gospel most effectively when sharing our testimonies with others. We become missionaries by so doing, and helping those who join the Church. So, no, we don’t need to go on a mission “to a foreign country to do religious work” to be a missionary. We can do this at home. In fact, we should be doing this at home.

Joseph Smith once said, “After all that has been said, the greatest and most important duty is to preach the Gospel.”

The Church has been continuously reminded, “Every member a missionary.”

“The Lord's Church has always been a missionary church.”

I mean, it’s the first promise we make as we enter into the waters of baptism; to take upon us the name of Jesus Christ. We, therefore, are all missionaries – if we hold true to our covenants… if we truly love Jesus Christ.

In the Church there are various missionary titles, all working towards the same common goal – to build the Kingdom of God. We have the Full-time Missionaries (who serve for 18 to 24 months where service is actually key), as previously mention, but we also have Member Missionaries. What are Member Missionaries? This is everyone who has been baptised and confirmed as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Our duty is make friends, look after, look out for, share with and teach. We assist the missionaries as best as we can and share our testimonies with our friends. We do Family History and then go to the Temple to do work for our dead. We visit the sick, the poor, and the orphans. We teach our children and live as righteous examples for others to follow. We keep the commandments. And this makes us missionaries, even Member Missionaries.

In addition to the Church’s Full-time Missionary program is the Church-Service Missionary program. This is a part-time effort for a period of 6 to 24 months wherein assistance is given to many Church departments and operations such as media, employment, mission offices, addiction recovery, family history, and much much more. This requires more work to assisting secular and spiritual wellbeing.

Then we have Ward Missionaries. They do what Member Missionaries should be doing, prepare investigators for the missionaries, assist missionaries when requested with service, tracting and teaching, encourage members to seek out missionary opportunities, and fellowship. They’re basically ragdolls for the Ward Mission Leader, Full-time Missionaries, Bishop and Ward in general. Act under directions and forgo requests.

This brings you to me. I am a Member Missionary and a Ward Missionary. I, personally, don’t see the difference, as I continued doing the exact same thing when I was called and set apart… except maybe a few extra meetings. But hey, I love it. I get to spend time with missionaries and members, teach new people, live some of the missionary life at home, and do the Lord’s work. I am grateful to have been chosen, even if I’m the only Ward Missionary doing anything.

I will always remember the times out with Elder Tew, Elder Mukurati, Elder Day, Elder Carpenter, Elder Pulley, Elder Mead, Elder McAllister, Elder Harmaans, Elder McNeish, Elder Melese, Elder Martin, Elder Broadhead, and all the other missionaries whose names I’ve forgotten; I remember the lessons, I remember the discussions.

It is my testimony that the Lord expects us to live His Gospel and share His message. It is my testimony that we are all missionaries, and oh what joy that brings. Our Heavenly Father loves us all and, if we love Him, why not share His message and do His work? This Gospel brings us such joy, so it is only natural that we are willing to share it with all those around us.

If you are ever Iinterested in meeting with missionaries, you can visit www.mormon.org/missionaries. There you are able to find missionaries near you and uncover answers to questions you may have.

References
Merriam-Webster, 2014. missionary. [Online] Available at: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/missionary

Mormon.org, n.d. A Missionary Church. [Online] Available at: http://www.mormon.org/values/missionary-work [Accessed 12 November 2014].

2011. Chapter 28: Missionary Service: A Holy Calling, a Glorious Work. In: Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith. Salt Lake City, Utah: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, p. 327.

Spurgeon, C. H., 1873. A Sermon and a Reminiscence. s.l., Sword and Trowel.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2004. True to the Faith. Salt Lake City, Utah: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Confirmation... and Ordination - on the same day

The morning was a rush, a little ruffle and shuffle here and there. My alarm clock went and sister was already in the bath. We had to get moving. I searched the house frantically for my Church clothes, the ones I had borrowed from the Farquharsons.

“Has anyone seen my shoes? Where’s my tie?!”

“Go bush your teeth, Jono. Have you eaten yet?”

“No. There’s no time. Is mommy up?”

“She isn’t,” my sister said in absolute dismay. “Go wake her!”
I grabbed a shirt I wasn’t entirely certain was mine, woke my mother and stepfather and jumped into the shower. I haven’t shaved. Filled with stress, I grabbed the razor and cut myself at least twice.

“Is it noticeable?” I asked.

“You look fine. Come, we need to go!”

She rustled us out the house and into the car. You’d think she was a member, but no. I’m shocked myself, and you’ll be even more surprised when I tell you about her own personal views which correspond perfectly with the Gospel. It was now the forty five minute drive to Centurion. Yes, forty five minutes to my home ward.

Let me back up a little. I was a student at the University of Pretoria, and the commune I stayed in fell under the Pretoria East Ward boundaries, maybe even Sunnyside if I wangled my a little. But my lessons happened in Centurion, with the Centurion missionaries (Centurion 2 Ward to be more specific). This was because the friend who introduced me to the missionaries lived in Centurion, and by the time the second set of missionaries arrived they wanted to hand me over to Pretoria East missionaries, but I declined. A commune is not the place for spiritual discussions (too many people, non-members, too much nudity, cussing, alcohol, etc… - I thank the Lord I no longer live there).

Then came Elder Tew. When I asked to be baptised, he said that I could be baptised in Centurion because I had the lessons there (two of them, but who was counting?). Part of me believes that, perhaps, he wanted to baptise me then already, or maybe even just witness it.

We attended Church that morning with my sister’s friend, Bianca. My friend, Deborah-lee Venter, joined us the previous Sunday to witness my baptism. We stuck out like sore thumbs those two Sundays… the convert and his non-member family and friends.
I arrived there that morning and Brother Kevin asked, “So, sir. Have you decided who’s confirming you yet?” I hadn’t. In fact, I’d been putting it off for as long as possible. I’m bad with decisions. Eventually I decided, because of Paul, that Elder Tew would be the one to confirm me. I mean, if Paul from the scriptures baptised and confirmed all his converts, why not the missionaries today? Or maybe I just wanted Elder Tew to do it… and if I’m to be honest, maybe I always knew it.

The congregation sustained me and the other two converts as members. We didn’t. Bishop Kwasi went up to the pulpit and asked, “Did you raise your hands?” We followed through very quickly and took our seats. Sacrament ended and I was told that, during Priesthood session, that day, I’d be given the Aaronic Priesthood and be ordained to the office of Priest.

“You have an hour to decide who’ll perform the ordinance.”
My chest was on fire. I couldn’t tell if it was the Holy Ghost baptising me with fire, or if it was heartburn as a result of anxiety. Whatever the reason, I kept asking for Gaviscon. Eventually, Sister Shan gave me a sachet. It didn’t go away.

Time ticked on by and I had 5 minutes, 4 minutes, 3 minutes left to decide. “Pray about it, and choose,” Sister Shan said. I did. We gathered together with the young men, bishopric, missionaries and my family. “Have you decided?” Brother Kevin asked. “No,” I said. “Let Shamir go first.” I watched the ordinance and, still, no answer. “We have to do it now.” I looked around at the Priesthood holders before me and came to rest my eyes on Elder Tew. He nodded his head and did ordinance.

I could finally breathe. I felt the Comforter put me at ease, reassuring me that this was the plan from the beginning. The words were uttered and a blessing was given.

We returned to the Priesthood session and departed ways after the service. By that, I mean, we spoke for about a half hour and then left. I was off to Alberton for the next two months. And that is another story in itself