Why I am Mormon Part V

As I walked in the doors to church that Sunday I found that I was greeted by smiling faces and hands outstretched to shake mine. I thought at first it was just a front and later on some people would tell me that I was dressed wrong or they would ask what my problem was or maybe ask me to leave. However as the meeting went on I began to feel like I was wrong. No one said anything, I didn't see anyone point and snicker or anything like that. There was just something that was telling me I was wrong. As Sunday school finished I began to feel more and more uncomfortable. I was thinking about just going home and not staying for the last hour. However the sister started talking to me about Elders Quorum and told me where to go. I told them I didn't feel comfortable going there alone yet and asked if I could go with them. They explained to me what Relief Society is about and how there is a class for women and a class for men. I asked if they were taught the same things and Sister Glancy said the lessons came from the same manual. I then asked what the big deal was if I came with them. They tried to persuade me to go to Elders quorum because the lessons were geared more toward men the relief society was. I told the sisters if I couldn't go with them to class I would just go home. Guess what? I got to go to Relief Society. Yep, once again I felt uncomfortable but at least I was surrounded by cute girls. So as the hours turned into days and the days to weeks I continued meeting with the missionaries. I met with the sisters twice a week. Normally on Tuesday nights and Friday nights. I continued to read the book of Mormon and after the sisters forty five minute lesson we would spend about thirty minutes answering whatever questions I had come up with from my reading. Apparently even though the sisters loved answering my questions this was taking a lot of their night up. The sisters told me about a program the church had where you could go to college level classes about the Book of Mormon. Now I had asked a couple of questions to the sisters that they couldn't answer for me and had to ask other people to help them figure out. When the sisters told me about Institute I remember thinking this thought, "I can't argue with Sheena about the Book of Mormon because if I make fun or question her faith.... well... there is no cuddling or kissing later on. I can't ask the sisters the really hard questions I want to because either they tell me they don't know and it’s not essential to my salvation (which by the way on numerous occasions I told the sisters was a B.S. way of getting out of it) or they I just couldn't bring myself to be mean to them. But alas," I thought, "A professor of Mormon Religion who I will be able to argue and debate with. Someone who will not put my questions off or give me some lame excuse. “I told the sisters I would love to go to this class and asked them what times it was. They pulled out a sheet of paper with class times and days on it and I decided to take a class on Monday and Wednesdays at three o'clock in the afternoon. I was really looking forward to this class at the institute and took my little five star note book and wrote the questions that hadn't been answered for me yet on a page and walked over to the institute. As I walked into the classroom I set at the back of the room. A large part of this was because several of the people in the class were people that I had argued with before and a few girls that I watched leave a philosophy class because they started crying because I ridiculed their beliefs. Its enough to say that I got some rather dirty looks that conferred the feeling what are you doing here? You don't belong here? What kind of trouble are you going to make? So rather sheepishly I remained in the back of the room and listen to the teacher lecture. One of the really neat things is the class was in the exact same place I was in my own book of Mormon reading which was really cool. I got a lot more insight about what I read the night before and something to think about for my reading that night. There were a couple of questions I wanted to ask but felt rather stupid for once because everyone else seemed to be so far ahead of me in understanding and knowledge so I didn't ask about embarrassment. As the class got over and the last prayer was said (and once again people look funny when they pray... like closing your eyes really tight and making a determined face gets your prayer heard better by the invisible guy who never hears. I still wasn’t believing in God yet if you can't tell) the teacher went to the exit door and shook everyone’s hand as the left the room. I was the last to leave and was just kind of sitting there as the last person walked out. The teacher came over to the desk I was in and introduced himself as Brother Clark and asked me If I had just gotten home from my mission (what was up with these Mormons thinking I was a missionary) because he hadn't seen me in class before. I told him that the sisters had sent me to this class because I would be able to learn some more about the Book of Mormon. It was as if some light bulb clicked on for the teacher and he excitedly asked me if I had any questions from today’s class. I told him I did and he asked me why I didn't ask during class. I told him because I felt kind of stupid asking them since everyone else probably learned the answer when they were six or seven. After we went over the questions I had from class he told me that they were good questions and not everybody in class probably knew the answer and next time to just ask the question. He asked then if I had any other questions. I opened up my notebook and asked him the really hard questions I had from reading the Book of Mormon that the sisters hadn't been able to get an answer for. He answered each one effortlessly and quickly and in a way that just seemed to make sense and be right. As the word quickly got around that I was taking the discussions I started to gather a little Mormon support group of people I could ask questions to. At most of my discussions I normally had about six other people there who simply couldn’t believe I was really investigating the church. This one sister named Amber who was a stalwart saint and always stuck to her grounds when I challenged her beliefs in class was rather amazed when she learned about what I was doing and didn’t quite believe that I was sincerely learning about Mormonism. But after the first lesson she came to where she saw with her own eyes that I was really meeting with the missionaries she made sure to be at each meeting I had with the sisters. We set up a system where after each class period I would ask him whatever my questions were from the last couple of days. We normally spent about thirty to forty-five minutes after class talking about whatever my concerns were. The Sunday after my first class as I was sitting in sacrament meeting before church (in a suit because I had learned my lesson) I saw my teacher come to my church meeting and he went and set up with the Bishop at the front. I waved at him and shouted hello to him from across the ward. He simply smiled and waved back. As I listened to the opening thing they do I noticed my teacher was not simply called Brother Clark but rather President Clark and was something called a Stake President. (Looking back now I can understand why he was able to answer all of my questions so easily and effortlessly and always seemed to have a glow about him. But I feel kind of bad taking up forty-five minutes of his time every Monday and Wednesday.) A lot of the questions that I asked the sisters are in retrospect rather funny when I think about them. I remember a concern I had was about why I had to pray with my eyes closed (if you remember I didn’t close my eyes when people prayed). Another thing I did was the sisters left me one of the chapters in third Nephi that dealt with the savior preaching the Sermon on the Mount to the Nephites. Jesus was talking an awful lot hypocrites and how much he really didn’t approve of them. There was a certain part where he said not to pray openly as the hypocrites do so they may be seen of men but to pray in closets and in secrete to your father in heaven. Well being the guy I was the sisters came over the night after I had read that for one of our meetings. They asked me if I would say the prayer. Now I wasn’t much into praying just yet however I thought I had learned something from the previous night’s readings. So I said I would and sisters looked at each other and smiled again like I was making some kind of progress. However there smiles slowly left there faces as I got up from the couch (they still insisted on sitting on the floor) and walked back to my bedroom. I slammed the door shut climbed into my closet said something to the invisible man about him not being there and listening but I needed to teach the sisters something so I could deal with talking to myself. I climbed back out of the closet and went back to the living room. The sisters were still sitting on the floor with rather concerned looks on there faces and asked me as I sat back down on the couch if everything was okay. I told them that it was. They asked me why I went back into my bedroom and if I was ready to say the prayer now. I told them I wanted to read something first to them. I opened up my little book of Mormon, read the passage in Third Nephi and told them I wasn’t go to pray like them and be a hypocrite and everything. The sister resolved this concern and explained the passage to me and then asked me if I would say another prayer. Well I accepted because I was feeling rather foolish about the whole event now. So I started out by addressing the invisible pizza guy in the sky who really wasn’t there and proceeded to say one of the worst prayers ever referring to Heavenly father as the dude in sky, the invisible man who wasn’t really there, and several other titles. Well, the sisters took this in stride and from that time forward I had to say an opening or closing prayer and it didn’t seem to bother them that I didn’t call the invisible guy God. Another thing that I questioned was the word of wisdom. The sister taught me about the word of wisdom and told me that I couldn’t drink alcohol or anything like that or smoke or do drugs or drink coffee or tea. Well I accepted what they said but that night after they left I started to think about what they said. All throughout the Bible and Book of Mormon it talked of how Jesus and other men drank wine. There were even scriptures that said it could be used for the sacrament. So when the sisters showed up for the next meeting I had a bottle of wine opened with glasses poured for everyone there. The sisters rather shocked of course asked me if I was keeping the word of wisdom and I told them I wouldn’t drink beer, whiskey, or liquor but I would drink wine because Jesus did and they always told me that I should be like Jesus. Well they tried to bear testimony of the word of wisdom but I didn’t believe them I wanted to know why if it was wrong then why did Jesus do it. Well the next meeting we had they brought Bishop D along who happened to be a rather amazing gospel teacher as well as bishop and he explained how the word wine in the New Testament often referred to not only the wine I knew but in Greek their were different kinds of drinks made from grapes that went from simple grape juice to wine that was forty or fifty proof and when the new testament was translated they just called everything wine. Well this made since so I bought it. So the next time the sisters came over I had a bottle of grape juice and poured glasses of grape juice for everyone. There were many other questions and things that I did and asked that are rather funny but I have spent enough time talking about a few of them that you can see the sisters had there hands full with me. Well I continued to go to Institute classes and church and met with the missionaries but I still didn’t believe them yet. But something interesting was starting to happen. When I reading the book of Mormon I would read things that would make me think about changing my life. I would read about forsaking sin and embracing Jesus Christ. The other resounding theme that kept echoing was that I was a sinner and unless I repented that some rather unpleasant things might be in store for me. I didn’t buy that God was real or that Jesus Christ was my savior however I was beginning to wonder if it was worth the gamble. I mean if I was right I only had to live my life and maximize my happiness and pleasure while alive. However if I was wrong I had an eternity of unpleasantness to look forward to. I really was thinking about if the risk was worth it or not. I still kept reading the book of Mormon though to see if what it said could make me a better person than I was. Well after about a month and half of learning about the church I was finally at a point where I could no longer take it anymore. I was lying in bed unable to sleep and thinking about what I had been taught, the claims the sisters made about everything and what Bishop D and President Clark told me. A lot of people told me the church was true, that God was really there and Jesus Christ was his Son. But I didn’t believe it. As I lay in bed tossing and turning I finally came to a point that all men come to at some point in there life. I really wanted to know if it was true. Figuratively I drew a line in the sand. Either what everyone was telling me was the truth or it was false. It had to be one of the two. There was no grey area; there was no sitting on the fence. The missionaries, Sheena. President Clark, Bishop D and all the rest of my support group were either full of crap or they were telling the truth. In all the month and half I had met with missionaries I never really said a real prayer. I never had a true desire or intent when I prayed. I really felt that if I said a prayer it got to the ceiling and then bounced back down to me and mocked me for talking to myself. However I was at my wits end. I didn’t know how else to find out what was true. I had tried to figure it out for myself but I hadn’t got anywhere. I decided that maybe I should really pray. Well it was sometime in the early morning hours and I got out of bed and onto my knees. I decided that I was going to bother God or whatever was out there (because somewhere along the line I had decided in the last month or so that something bigger then me really existed.) until I got an answer. I vowed to myself not to get off my knees until I received an answer either yea or nay concerning Mormonism….

Why I am Mormon Part I

You can think of me what you will for claiming the title of Latter-Day Saint better known as a Mormon, but the one thing I know is that I am a better man today then I was before I joined the Church Of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I was raised by Christian parents, a mother who tried to bring religion into my brother and my life at different times. It seemed we went to church most around holidays like Easter or Christmas or when there was some kind of traumatic incident in our families life. I remember one of my favorite books growing up was a picture bible that was set up like a comic book. I loved to read it and enjoyed the stories especially the ones in the Old Testament. I remember being puzzled by the words at the end of the Old Testament that said, "end of the prophets" it was many years later that I finally came to understand this. However as I got older like some children I began to drift away from the teaching of my youth. This was much to the dismay of my maternal grandmother who is one of the most saint-like women I have ever known. As I continued to grow older this schism in what I thought and believed about religion only grew wider. I began to embrace the philosophy of men rather than the teaching of God and Jesus. I began to idolize such men as Nietzsche and Machiavelli for the logic they sought and wrote about. I begin to use reason and logic rather then upon that still small voice that speaks eternal truth. As I progressed further and further down this part of my life pragmatism and cold hard logic and science replaced any lingering thoughts about a higher power. I remember arguing with a former girl friend about her beliefs regarding Wiccan thoughts and her belief in dragons and fairies. I took the same line of thought when arguing with those who believed in any higher law than themselves. I compared them to primitive cave men who saw lighting and came up with some Deity who must be behind the scenes hurling lighting bolts from the heavens. As friends would talk to about Jesus and God I would ridicule them the same way I would someone who believed in Zeus or Thor and thought they really existed and lived somewhere. I began to believe that in Science, Logic and myself lay where truth really existed. I ended up graduating High School and looked forward to college as a place where I might meet like minded men and women who would not believe in as George Carlin put it, "The greatest BS story of all time." I ended up picking political science as my major and one of the reasons was a professor named Jim Schampel who taught at the college and I saw myself as following in his footsteps. I took delight in his logic and in how he dealt with those who believed in Christianity or any other religion. From him I took my cues and began to argue against the existence of God in many of my classes. I remember being in a introduction to philosophy class and making some eighteen or nineteen girls cry because I used logic and reason and straw man type arguments to show them how their beliefs were no better than Greek mythology and were just set up by con men. I remember blatantly yelling that God was dead and no longer cared if he even existed in the first place and challenging those who thought differently to argue with me. When people would try to bear testimony of what they believed to me I would compare that burning in the bosom to when I ate something spicy and later got heart burn and asked them if what I was thinking when I got heart burn was the spirit speaking to me. I would tell them that God was only a grown up version of Santa Claus that people went to. My skills in logic and argumentation were only strengthened by my joining the debate team. This however was not all I did to destroy those who I saw as having an archaic view of the world. Those same young girls who so passionately argued that God existed I sought to take that which is most precious from them. This is one of the things that I most regret about that period of my life. I also dressed up as a dead missionary that year for Halloween. Drilling a hole in a Book Of Mormon and splashing fake blood all over a white shirt and then proceeding to go trick or treating throughout the dorms. I lived to show those who believed how wrong they were. I remember later talking to the Stake President and he told me what a trouble maker I was and how many people would come crying into the institute on campus and wanting to know if what I said was true. I also sought to dissuade those who were investigating both the Mormon Church and religion in general and I relied upon the sophistry of men to dissuade them from what they were searching for. I friend of mine who was on the debate started to investigate the Mormon Church and myself and others ridiculed him and sought to re-corrupt him so he could join in our fun again. So for my freshman year I went about trying to destroy the works of God and his church. I thought I was in the right and everyone else was being astray by religious con men who were only using religion as an opiate for the masses or to make money for themselves. I sought to bring people to realize the errors of their way. I wanted to help them see they believed in vain superstitions as real as the Easter bunny, Santa Claus or the tooth fairy. I was to only learn how wrong I was.