Defending the Faith

There are many things I do not know, and great deal I still need to learn. This weekend I was privileged to be in the presence of faithful men and women, strong in their convictions and true to their mainstream Christian faiths. As ministers and active believers, their love for God was clearly felt. Admirable, I might add.

And as a Mormon (as I’m commonly referred these days), the topic of legitimacy clearly rose. It was then that I realised that I have much to work on – especially in defending my faith while respecting theirs.

1 Peter 3:15 tells us: “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:”

I failed in that regard this past weekend, as my responses left much to be wanted, much to be answered. I resorted to the same old response the missionaries left me with when I asked the same questions and the conversation died before resolution was made. So that is what I’d like to address today.

From their perspective, the gospel was clearly taught to the disciples and recorded in the Bible. From then, it has been the gospel Christians have lived by until the 1800s came. Then, suddenly, Churches sprang out with new doctrine and new teachings that opposed that which was carried on from the days of the apostles.

Galatians 1:8-9 was presented and I was asked how I felt about having “another gospel”.

“But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed. As we said before, so say I now again, If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.”

From this perspective, yes, I agree that it can be viewed as a perversion of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

But this is not how we see it. And foundation of our conclusion resides in the churches that did exist before any such restoration took place. Our understanding of the above verse brings to pass the difference in understanding of the term “gospel”.

Let us go back, back to the days of Joseph Smith, when his journey for truth began.

In his immediate vicinity, the topic of religion was rife and the denominations existing already strong. There were Baptists, Methodists, and Presbyterians of immediate concern. His family was torn between the splits and his mind was not yet made. These were the days when congregations fought strongly about who was right and who was wrong.

Already, before any “restoration”, there was much confusion regarding the truthfulness of any current denomination. It is not surprising that many began their own search for truth, coming to many of their own conclusions.

In the words of Joseph Smith, “for the teachers of religion of the different sects understood the same passages of scripture so differently as to destroy all confidence in settling the question by an appeal to the Bible.”

The “gospel” had not been preserved. The teachings that now came forth taught that God no longer spoke to man; that dreams and visions were not possible (as opposed to Acts 20:17) and that one should NOT pray (as opposed to 1 Thessalonians 5:17).

This was the reality for Joseph Smith. Clearly, an apostasy had occurred, as these men and women relied on teachings, rather than testimony; teachings that varied greatly, one from another. As we see it, a restoration needed to take place. Man needed God, not the interpretations of man.

So Joseph Smith prayed to God and the first vision came to pass. The Book of Mormon was revealed to reaffirm what the Bible taught. Together, they would stand as scripture to teach the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Book of Mormon was not and is not another gospel, but another testament of Jesus Christ. It is further scripture to teach the same gospel, because the Bible had been through so many hands and preached with so many tongues and interpretations.

So no, I don’t believe Paul was talking about Moroni or Joseph Smith or the Book of Mormon in Galatians 1. I don’t believe the Book of Mormon teaches “another gospel”, because it teaches us to come unto Christ, as does the Bible; it teaches us to call on His name so that we can be saved, as does the Bible; it teaches us that He is the focus, He is the centre, and He is the reason for all things, as does the Bible. It teaches us the means by which we can be saved – faith in Jesus Christ, repentance, baptism, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end – and that is the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It is the same gospel he taught to His disciples and it is the same gospel taught today.

One thing I have noticed, however, is that contemporary Christianity is not the same as Christianity was just prior to the “restoration”. Christianity changed from trusting in reason to trusting in revelation, they went from being Draconian to relying solely on grace, and began developing a relationship with God instead of preaching damnation.

I find this change interesting as the words to Joseph Smith in the First Vision were, “they draw near unto me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.”

I strongly believe this has changed from then to now. Yes, there are many who fall under this category still, but Christianity today is about the relationship. At least, that is what I’ve noticed.

There are many who seek the Lord and follow Him with all their heart.

Another question was asked, if we believe that a person has to be Mormon in order to get into heaven. And granted, there are many that do believe this. But one thing we do know is that we, LDS, will be surprised at the judgement bar to see those who do, in fact, receive celestial glory (Matthew 5:10).

As important as the three kingdoms are in our faith, I don’t really like discussing them with those who don’t share it; mostly because they don’t exist yet. Rather, I prefer to focus on paradise (Luke 23:43) and prison (1 Peter 3:19), the current heaven and hell. This is where Mormonism and mainstream Christianity works together, for the most part.

There are many things pertaining to the restoration which would require much study, much time, and much discussion. I don’t have the answers to many things, but I know that this is the path God has put me on. For I, myself, had great difficulty in accepting the restored gospel, but when God speaks, you listen. When the Spirit whispers, you pay attention.

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

My Decision to Join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

It was 2007, the beginning of February, and I had just started at a new school – a week before cycle tests began. The teacher seated me alongside a kid named Dylan Farquharson and, unbeknown to me, my journey began. In fact, it wasn't until March 2013 that I actually knew he was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It wasn't until March 2013 that I even knew the Church existed.

That’s me; obliviously unaware – and ironically so. As it turns out, my mother knew he and his family were members, yet we never spoke about it. Apparently he even showed me a copy of the Book of Mormon and invited me to a Youth talk on drugs (which I vaguely remember attending). Interesting, isn't it? I mean, even at 12, I know I had questions. I had recalled the ‘the lost scriptures’ and the beliefs of various denominations in my discussions with him. He and I spoke on various doctrinal topics and pierced through the Old and New Testaments in our walks home from school. I thoroughly enjoyed having someone who’d listen to, and participate in, my out-there rants on spiritual matters. Why then, didn't I know anything about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?

We lost touch in 2011 and came back in contact around March 2013. It was then that he invited me over to his house for dinner, not telling me that other “guests” would be joining. Though, to be fair, I doubt he even remembered that it was Friday night, DA with the missionaries. It was first the short, ash-blonde man with the physique of a rugby player that greeted me; an American, wearing a suit, to boot. Elder Beanfield. Muscular, American, suited up, and he couldn't even get my name right. These are a few of the things I despised the most.

“Jonah?”

“Jon-O-than.”

“Jono?”

“Only my friends call me that, but whatever.”

Then was his companion, Elder Black. The little bugger; he told me he came from Congo, which led me to talk much smack to him about Americans. You guessed it, American. He was a writer and artist of note, with an accent like none other. And that laugh. Oh, that laugh.

Anyway, that was the night I met missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They, and my friend’s father, Kevin Farquharson, were talking about Church stuff. I say “Church stuff”, because I was mortified to realise that were talking about “stuff” I knew little to nothing about. How could that be? I’ve researched practically every religion in existence (even those no longer in it). Eventually the gnawing voice at the back of my head pushed me to ask, “Do universities have modules or classes that teach about your church?” BYU they said; only BYU. Thanks. Eventually they said that they could teach me, reluctantly handing over a copy of the Book of Mormon. I didn’t recall ever seeing one. They went on to ask Dylan to tell me how the Book of Mormon changed his life and testified of its truthfulness. All good and well, but I was a wall. My curiosity was purely intellectual.

I went home that weekend and felt an immediate spiritual clash (not at all what I felt while I was in their presence). So I did the smart thing. I Googled the Church. I came across a video titled “Secrets of the Mormon Temple”. I watched it. I learnt of the Adam-God theory, baptism for the dead, their belief in becoming gods, that God was a man, that the Fall was a good thing, and that angels were resurrected beings. I felt sick. Voices bombarded my skull and I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t move. The simple thought of reading the Book of Mormon brought turmoil to my soul.

But I went back. I opened the book anyway. Because of all the voices shouting at me, the one telling me to read was the softest, the stillest. They gave me a pamphlet on the restoration and I joined them in watching conference, and going to Church. I brought them questions upon questions, explaining my theories and plausible solutions. I contended their teachings with Biblical scripture and rehearsed myself well in anti-Mormon literature. I became fluent, and they grew silent. I shared with them my deepest secrets, my deepest concerns, and in their soft, unanswering voices, I felt comfort. Though frustrating, though contended, I felt truth in their tongues and sincerity in their hearts. I grew fond of the Americans, even though I disagreed with almost everything they said.

A period of time went by and I returned to the home of the Farquharsons to find out the Elders, Black and Beanfield, were no longer there. Elders Dalton and Baker had taken their place. Americans. I was angry. I hated them. Everything I had shared with them had left with them. Any progress I may have made took a turn for the worse and this was when I officially started delving deep into LDS doctrine and scripture… to prove it wrong. To prove that Moroni and the Book of Mormon were what Galatians 1:7-9 was talking about.

They continued headstrong, unmoved. And I grew to love them as well. Elder Dalton left and Elder Zulu took his place (the first non-American, a South African). Elder Baker left and Elder Tew took his place (also an American).

I can still remember my first lesson with Elder Tew present. It was the first time we met, and he said, “I love you.”

What?! I thought. I didn't understand, but in that moment I heard the soft voice return, He will baptize you. I was nowhere near accepting the Gospel, but the Spirit whispered, and I could not deny. In that moment, everything changed. My research on anti-Mormon literature didn’t stop, but it began frustrating me. It never answered any of my questions. Instead, I only found flaws, inconsistencies, and untruths in each rebuttal.

Elder Zulu suggested Mormon 8 and it spoke to my mind. Elder Tew suggested Ether 12 and it spoke my soul. Sister Shan, Kevin’s wife, chastised my external research of the Gospel and said I should focus solely on the Book of Mormon; a message Elder Tew had been trying to get across. I listened. That night I finished reading the Book of Mormon. It rained. I felt the Spirit and knew I had a testimony. The only thing on my mind now was baptism; something the missionaries never asked of me. I tried to sleep that night and arose early that morning to find the first priesthood holder I could, Brother Kevin Farquharson, and told him that I wanted to get baptised. A date was set with the missionaries that day and, as I learnt months later, I filled the much prayed for spot of 8 December 2013.

My decision to join the Church did not come likely. In fact, my decision to join the Church came by way of testimony, a mighty change of heart. I had found my answers and found the truth. “I knew it. And I knew that God knew it. And I could not deny it.”