Future Elder Smith

I'd just like to emphasize the Future part of the title. Yes, Future Elder Smith. As in, not quite yet Elder Smith.

It's interesting to see that my surname has been the topic of many a conversation since my joining of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Not only among members, but also among my non-LDS friends.

"Face it, the only reason you joined the Church is because of Joseph Smith. Such vanity."

Yes, definitely. My entire testimony is dependent on a man I didn't even like while investigating the Church. I only developed a testimony of Joseph Smith long after accepting the Book of Mormon and the restoration of The Church of Jesus Christ. Granted, I do admire him now, but it actually has very little to do with my decision to be baptized and confirmed as a member of the Church.

"Smith is a common surname in America."

Yes, and it is a common name everywhere else in the westernized world. It doesn't change my repellent stance on the promised land. Yea, that's another thing I'm going to have to work on before Zion comes.

"Maybe you're related to Joseph Smith."

Yes, because all Smiths are related. I mean, Will Smith is my uncle. Besides, the entire thought is a moot point, especially considering the great difficulty involved in finding any relative before my great grandparents. My immediate family tree is complicated enough. I don't even want to think about the chaos that'd unfold in tracing back to 1830. I'll take the 1900s and leave the rest to my kids.

Interesting tidbit. My sister and I are the only remaining Smiths in our entire family (the ones that we know of, that is).

I digress. My biggest pet-peeve regarding my surname is Elder Smith. I am still Jonothan. I wasn't an Elder when I was first called Elder Smith and, even though I'm Elder now, the title itself is reserved for Apostles and those they (or the First Presidency) have called and set apart as such (directly or indirectly).

That being said, I am a Future Elder Smith - considering that my mission papers are currently being processed. And I do understand the attempted humor and affection involved in calling me Elder Smith. But this is me - blunt, technical, and attemptively accurate to a perfectionistic degree.

That, and I don't like being put on a pedestal. You see, the reasoning behind the affectionate humor is that I am quite zealous with regards to the Gospel. I take my calling as a Ward Missionary seriously, but more seriously is my obligation as a Member Missionary, yea, even a disciple of Jesus Christ.

But I don't like being reminded, or having it pointed out. Because there is something about the way people say it that makes it seem like I'm doing more than I actually am.

Brother Farquharson once pointed out that I shouldn't see it as flattery. Rather, I should list them as facts and remove all nuances and exaggerations. And I suppose the derivatives thereof support others' views of me.

But it doesn't make me comfortable. Perhaps that's the blue in me (see color code here), I don't know.

Regardless of my ranting, however, I am grateful for the friends I do have. They are supportive, encouraging and uplifting. Even though I often cringe at the things they say, and outright tell them they're wrong, they do teach me a lot. And it's that spirit I'd like to bring with me when I do, finally, go on mission.

So here's to serving the Lord the best I can. Here's to friends, whom I cherish. And here's to being a Future Elder Smith. Perhaps there'll be more when I'm a father, one day.

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.

The Place of Firsts

It was into the first week of my membership in the Church and I was already worried about keeping the Sabbath day holy. You see, I’d just started working as a cashier at a local supermarket (by local, I mean my mom’s place as I was there for the varsity holidays). In the world of retail, getting Sundays off isn’t all too easy and it seemed that none of my colleagues had Sunday off.

Elder Tew seemed less concerned about this detail than he did knowing I’d be working Monday to Sunday, 07:00 to 20:00. He lectured me on recharging my spiritual batteries and trying to find time to at least see the missionaries in Alberton. The week passed and Saturday came. I was cashing up when I finally broke the ice to my manager, since the supervisors took no heed to my pleas.

“Yes,” she said. In the end, it was easier than I expected. In the end. Before that, it was a nightmare. I’m grateful, though, that faith pulled through and that Heavenly Father answered my prayers. My journey at a new “branch” as it was in 2013 had just begun, my very first Sunday as a member in a brand new unit where nobody knew anything about me. Or so I thought.
I arrived at 08:00, in preparation for sacrament at 09:00… and nobody was there. I didn’t know the code to get through the gate and began wondering if anybody was coming. Eventually, at 08:09, a man named Albert (I think) arrived and let me in. We set off the alarm and Fox security arrived. Fortunately, it all worked out. We waited until 08:49 before the first member arrived.

I seated myself and observed the differences I noted from my home ward. Very different, as the local congregation kept pointing out. They asked questions and spoke to me. “We’re weird, hey?” Yes, you are, but mostly because everyone keeps asking that question. I noticed the missionaries being used far more often that the ones in Centurion and that we had intermediate hymns, which I had never experienced.

I joined the missionaries in Gospel principles, noting that they (and not the ward mission leader) taught the lesson. Still, a very good lesson – engaged the three of us who were there. It turned out that Elder Carpenter knew me, because Elder Tew happened to be his father (trainer in normal terms). Apparently Elder Tew asked about me often.

So, it was my first time at a unit other than Centurion. The weeks continued, and I learnt that testimony Sunday was actually Fast and Testimony Sunday. Why did nobody tell me this?! So I participated in the fast and bore my testimony.

I was then asked to assist in blessing the sacrament, another first. I went out teaching with the missionaries (Elders Carpenter, Mead and Pulley). Then, as the holidays drew to an end, I was asked to give a talk – another first (and it wasn’t even my home ward).
I returned to Centurion and told Brother Kevin of all my firsts and he kindly pointed out that I taught a priesthood lesson at Centurion first (as an investigator) and that I partook of the sacrament first in Centurion, that I was baptised, confirmed, and ordained in Centurion and that I’d attended conferences with Centurion, first. It may have brought about a little competition.

At Centurion, I was asked to assist in blessing the sacrament and went out teaching with the missionaries. But, to this day, I’ve never given a talk there, and never had a calling there. Though, if I’m to be fair, I got my recommend for baptisms at the temple in Centurion (and did baptisms) and received my mission papers there.

My firsts continued as I visited Alberton, to pass sacrament. The Patriarch for Bedfordview stake even wanted to give me my patriarchal blessing, which I learnt about at Alberton. I learnt a lot a Alberton, and eventually came to wonder what Centurion missionaries had actually taught me. Because they sure didn’t finish the lessons with me.

Elder Tew took it personally and tried to catch up, but neither he nor his successors ever finished. He did, however, start teaching me from Preach My Gospel and how to use it. He is the reason I took a few swings at tracting and prepared me well for my calling as Ward missionary, in Alberton.

I visited Alberton the day it was upgraded from Branch to Ward. Eventually, I moved to the Alberton unit and continued to work side by side with Alberton missionaries. Everything got busy. Assisting with sacrament became nor, teaching, tracting and fellowshipping with missionaries became a regular experience, until I was eventually called as a Ward missionary. Which I noticed, didn’t change much with regards to what I actually did.

These missionaries, now, however, use me far less than any of the previous missionaries – and it is bitter-sweet. But that’s another story.

So that is Alberton – the place of many firsts. I started Home Teaching in Alberton (don’t get me started on the chaos that was the non-existent Home Teaching in Centurion) and I’ll be ordained as Elder here, receive my permanent temple recommend and endowments through Alberton, and receive my call to serve a mission here. Oh, and I also attended my first priesthood session with Alberton.

That is the passing of time from Centurion to Alberton to Centurion and then back to Alberton again. The Lord truly does work in mysterious ways.

My Baptism: A Journal Extract

An extract from my journal after my baptism. How far I've come.

Baptism Day (08 December 2013)

The day I'd been waiting for most of my life had finally come - and I was able to do it wholeheartedly, without any doubt (when listening to my heart). I was accompanied by two others, Lloyd and Shamir, who too were being baptised and I was fortunate to have the people who cared for me most support me (save it be my grandparents).

The day started with a white one-piece overall and a glimpse at Elder Tew's whites. Despite the horror of the one-piece, we continued with photos; photos with the family, the Farquharsons, the elders and the converts. Once we were done, we headed off to the baptismal service.

Dylan opened with a prayer and the congregation followed with hymn 180, Father in Heaven, We Do Believe, chosen by Shamir. It was a very appropriate song, considering I did (and still do). Elder Zulu then gave a talk on baptism which heightened my spirits and Letta (Shamir's fiance) gave a talk on the Holy Ghost (the greatest gift in all of existence). Both talks were highly inspirational and left me with a spirit of peace.

It was off to the baptisms and I was both nervous and excited. First was Shamir being baptised by Kevin... the words were spoken and Shamir was immersed in water (a photo of evidence exists). Next was Elder Tew and me. He stepped into the font and I followed. At first, I was worried, but the moment I grabbed hold of his wrist - and he mine - I was at ease. He called out my name (after asking what my full name was) and called the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. He dipped me into the water and I felt a rush.

As the water beneath me washed over and engulfed me, I felt something more than words could even describe. I knew that I was only under for a couple of seconds, but it felt like I was under for longer (like a dual experience of time). My chest warmed up and I felt safe. A heaviness washed away and as Elder Tew pulled me out, I felt my surroundings revert. As Lloyd said after he followed with his baptism, "It felt like I was in a different place."

The water may have been cold, but I was warm on the inside (burning out). More photos were taken (unfortunately none of me immersed in the water) but I was happy, comforted and at ease. Elder Tew said the Spirit was strong (as Zulu said) and I could feel it. As we headed back to the service after changing, I recall saying it felt like I'd left something behind. Tew said it was my past transgressions and pain. I'd never been so content with any other answer before.

Back at the service, testimonies were given. Shamir and Lloyd glistened with truth as they spoke. I went up and spoke from my heart, mentioning hope and faith. I recall the words "seven months, six missionaries" and maybe I was waiting for Elder Tew. I mean, if I were to be completely honest, I knew I'd ask him to baptise me from the moment we met.

We sang the closing hymn, 219, Because I Have Been Given Much. Never been truer words. Members welcomed us to the ward and said they enjoyed my testimony. It was a joyous occasion. 

Brother Shaun told me that he recalled his baptism and that he didn't feel much different until his confirmation. I now understand what he meant. Now, I hold on to what I felt on Sunday. I hold fast onto my ability to relive a memory and I can feel the water washing over me. I remember the Spirit that warmed me and I can't wait for this coming Sunday when the Spirit comes to stay.

Afterwards, though - during eats - I felt something pull at me (something wrong). I fought the urge to follow and Elder Tew said that I should run from those pulls (literally, if I have to). I will hold strong to those words and remember the truth as evil fights to change my mind. Elder Zulu gave me a blessing of comfort and ended the day on a high note.

I am eternally grateful for the missionaries. I am eternally grateful for the Farquharsons. I am eternally grateful for the Spirit in my life and the atonement made possible by Jesus Christ. I am grateful that Elder Tew was the one to come into my life, baptise me and will be the one to confirm me. Maybe it's coincidence that his name is David, maybe it was meant to be.

Thank you Father for all you blessings, guidance and protection.

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.”