Sandinistas

“Everyone get down.”

A rock crashed through the front window of the bus. We didn’t have to be told twice. Some passengers ducked in their seats. We got on the floor. My heart raced.

The bus sped up. I looked at my companion. It was hard to see him in the dark. He seemed terrified. We held on to the seat legs for support.

“Dios mío,” said one of the women. Children cried. Rocks crashed through the side windows. Glass sprayed all around us. The bus driver laid on the horn.

A man shouted something in Spanish out the window. A rock hit him in the side of the face. Blood spattered the seat next to us. Several women screamed.

Chickens flew in the aisle. More rocks smashed windows in quick succession. The bus hopped over obstacles in the road. Men, women and children bounced up and down.

A shot rang out, then another. They came from behind us. One last rock hit the back window. The bus veered to the right in a sudden turn. The crashing rocks ceased.

“Are you alright?” I asked my companion.

Elder Morales didn’t reply. A woman next to him sobbed. He spoke to her in Spanish. He tried to comfort her. The bus slowed to a more reasonable speed.

After a moment I saw the lights of the main street ahead. The bus driver stopped at the corner. He got out and swore. “Damn those kids. Look what they did to my bus.”

We all piled out after him as fast as we could. Women gathered their children who still cried. Men stood around the bus driver. They asked him to keep going.

“They would have burned my bus if I stopped,” the driver said. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m going home.” He got back in his bus, closed the door and sped down the road.

I helped Elder Morales clean the glass out of his hair. His ear was bleeding. I gave him my handkerchief. We began the long walk back to our house outside the barrio.

We worked in Reparto Schick all day, every day. The dangers of that poor neighborhood just outside of Managua prevented us from staying there at night. We had come from a day full of meetings and visiting the people in their homes. It was Sunday, February 5, 1978.

We worked with a small church group called a branch. The leader of the branch got up in church that day and renounced his position. Then his assistant renounced. He said he didn’t want the job either. We spent the afternoon trying to convince them to stay.

“What are we going to do, Elder Morales?” We walked at a fast pace away from the shouting and fires that still burned in the barrio. “President Jimenez can’t quit like that.”

“Elder Malone, you’ve got to understand these people. There are so few that are willing to lead a church. This is the third time he’s been Branch President.”

“I know, but he can’t quit. He has to be released.” Elder Morales looked at me with a kind of sadness. He seemed so much older and wiser than his nineteen years. He was from San Jose. One eye was lop-sided. I could never tell exactly where he was looking.

“We’ll talk to President Garcia. Let him handle it.” I liked that. Give the problem to the District President where it belonged. I was going to miss Elder Morales.

This was our last full day together as companions. I was being transferred the next day to work in Bello Horizonte as a zone leader. All the missionaries in my incoming group of fourteen were about to become zone leaders. It happened with the passage of time.

The only cars on the road that night were taxis and a few busses. Very few people had cars. Sometimes a church member who drove a taxi would pick us up. Not that night.

The shouting in the distance grew louder. Army trucks rolled past us going toward the barrio. A helicopter flew in the distance. Its powerful light searched the ground below.

“Elder, I think we had better get off this road. Let’s cut through the field.” We were about five minutes from our house. The commotion was growing louder. Elder Morales agreed.

The stench of a dead dog filled our nostrils. The light from the helicopter revealed it was infested with maggots. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, Elder.”

Elder Morales began to cough, then sneeze and gag. He grabbed at his face. Tears flowed from his eyes. Surely the scent of a dead dog couldn’t do this. Then it hit me.

Tear gas has a powerful effect even after several minutes. The helicopter light shone fully in our faces. A voice in Spanish over a loudspeaker demanded to know why we were there.

Neither one of us could talk. The wind from their rotor blades whipped around us. Tears blinded my eyes. My tie whipped up in my face. I held my hands up high. So did Elder Morales.

“Don’t shoot,” Elder Morales managed to shout. “We’re missionaries.” It must have been the white shirts that saved our lives. And Sandinistas don’t wear ties.

“CIA go home.” I had to laugh. The voice over the loudspeaker spoke English. It was intended for me. I waved in reply. Both arms. I waved them off. Get out of here.

We arrived home a few moments later. The doña had the usual rice and beans waiting for us. That night she added a little chicken and some plátanos in my honor.

“You’re late. Did anything interesting happen today?”

I looked at my companion.

“We had a great church meeting,” he said. “Please pass the rice.”

Shades of Grey and relative truth

presmurenfamilyIn 1978, civil war broke out in Nicaragua, just after I left the country. My Mission President went from Costa Rica to Managua to help the missionaries get out of the country.  As he was literally leaving the chapel where he had told the missionaries to gather, the Sandinistas came running in from the other door and stopped them.

Demanding to know what side of the conflict they were on, President Muren responded with the phrase, “tonos de gris,” which means shades of grey.  He did not stop but kept going right out the door and was able to get that group of Elders out of the country.  Gratefully, all the missionaries eventually made it safely out.

Social or Cultural Mormons

Can a person be a member of the LDS faith and not believe some of the doctrine or accept the official story of the history?  Absolutely!  We call them social or cultural Mormons and there are countless numbers of them within the church.  Many of these kinds of members come from multi-generation pioneer LDS families.

If you survey an average congregation in the LDS faith, you will find that there are a surprising number who just don’t care about some of the doctrine and care even less about the history.  They are there because it is their family tradition and they derive satisfaction from the social interaction among good people that they know.

Looking for the middle ground

They feel uncomfortable when they hear statements from their leaders that the LDS church is either the kingdom of God or it is nothing.  When someone says that Joseph Smith was either God’s prophet or he was a great fraud, they feel unfairly pressured to have to put their view of the man in such black and white terms.

Isn’t there some middle ground where good people can participate in the Mormon faith without having to take sides about Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, the idea of angels visiting Joseph and the concept of priesthood keys and authority?  There is so much good in the church.  Why does it have to be classified as true?

The American Mormon culture

There are many members of the LDS church who do not fit the stereotypical image of conservative, orthodox, Republicanwhite-collar, all-American family.  The church membership is actually quite diverse, especially as one travels outside the confines of the Intermountain West where the church flourished and is the strongest.

Culturally, as a church and a people, we seem to have become stagnated in the mindset of the 19th century view of Mormonism that still conflicts with the outside world.  The church is growing beyond the Mormon corridor but is experiencing a sort of consolidation in the traditional strongholds of the faith – the center of Zion.

The one true church

Many good people who recognize this cultural myopia and parochialism that exists within the LDS faith have expanded their views and horizons beyond the mores and restraints of the traditional, orthodox Mormon worldview.  There are so many good people out there that are doing great things to serve their local communities.

Because these progressive thinking people have expanded their views they have come in contact with different ways of thinking about the religious experience and about their own Mormon upbringing.  The idea of belonging to the one true church has come to be offensive and difficult, if not impossible to defend in their minds.

God’s chosen people

They see and are embarrassed by what appears to be a contest of right and wrong between our zeal as a missionary church and the good people who are not already a part of the elect kingdom of God.  Whereas previously they were uncomfortable with a perceived exclusivist approach, they now are adamant that we are wrong.

We are judgmental, they cry.  Why can’t we accept everybody else just the way they are?  Why are we trying to convert people when they are already happy and doing much good in their own faith?  The idea of rules for membership becomes chafing.  Why does the church have such high standards that drive people crazy?

Pointing out the flaws and faults

A large percentage of the LDS membership either does not know or does not care about some of the troubling issues of our early history and growth as a church.  It is frustrating to progressive thinkers that so many within the faith are not as well versed as they are on these issues and the supposed quandaries that they present.

So they become more vocal and strident in pointing out the flaws and faults of the church and its leaders, both historical and current.  Their frustration increases when their audience either shrugs its collective shoulders or ignores their efforts to educate them on the problems that they see in the church.  How can they not care?

Many faithful members do know

While there are many who don’t know and don’t care, there are just as many who are very knowledgeable in the issues and problems that are troublesome to our liberal minded members.  It’s just that we have found answers within our own hearts and minds many years ago that satisfy the potential cognitive dissonance.

We quietly go about our lives, secure and confident in the knowledge that we have found answers for the most important elements of our faith.  We invite others to taste of the peace that comes from knowing that there are answers and that there are many solid and bedrock truths upon which we can build our lives and our faith.

Raise a warning voice

For some reason, when we try to share our certainty about the truths we have found, we are sometimes misunderstood to be arrogant or presenting our faith as superior or more complete than theirs.  Yes, if you invite someone to share in your happiness then you are presenting what you have found to be of great worth.

This is a difficult task to perform.  We are commanded to raise our voices to let the world know of the events pertaining to the founding of our church.  We have been asked to be bold in declaring that God has called prophets in our day and that he has sent angels to ordain and teach truths that have long been lost from the world.

Some truths are not relative

And thus we arrive at the heart of the conflict between orthodox conservative Mormons and progressive liberal Mormons.  What is truth?  Can one say with any degree of certainty that they have found the best and most complete source of truth without excluding the many other sources of truth that are found in the world?

Truth is reality. Some kinds of truth can only be received through revelation. I have never seen God or Jesus. I was not there when Joseph received the First Vision. So for me to be able to know those facts, they have to be revealed to me by the Holy Ghost.  Some truths are either revealed of God or they remain unknown.

Truths received by revelation

The five pillars of the LDS testimony require revelation: God lives, Jesus is the Christ, the Savior called Joseph as a prophet, the Book of Mormon was brought forth by the gift and power of God and the church that Joseph established is authorized of God to administer the ordinances of salvation that God requires.

Without revelation from the Holy Ghost we can’t say that we know these things. It’s just not logical. I have studied the Book of Mormon and the Church that claims to be God’s only church authorized to administer the ordinances of salvation. With revelation from the Holy Ghost I can say I know they are what they claim to be.

Summary and conclusion

In some things in life, it is wise to take a position characterized by my Mission President’s response to the Sandinistas – shades of grey.  We do not always know all the facts of some situations and should withhold judgment until a later time.  However, in some critical matters, we must take a position and know for ourselves.

It takes work and determination to obtain knowledge about the five pillars of an LDS testimony.  But I, and millions of others over the years, can say with great certainty that God does reveal knowledge about himself and his prophets to those who diligently seek it.  This revealed knowledge does not come in shades of grey.

The teaching and testifying missionary

Although I have previously shared a couple of stories from my mission, I have been wanting for a long time to express how much I enjoyed my mission and how it changed my life. There is no doubt that serving a mission was difficult but it was also a period of unequaled and appreciated spiritual and emotional growth.

I served in the Costa Rica San Jose mission from August of 1976 to August of 1978. The first two months were spent learning Spanish in the LTM in the old Knight-Magnum hall on the BYU campus. We were one of the last groups to be housed there. All the missionaries after us enjoyed the new facilities of the MTC.

The decision to go on a mission

Up until the day I turned 19 years old I wasn’t sure that I would be going on a mission. Although I grew up in the church, I went through a short period of rebelliousness in my late teens in which I did not attend church for about six to ten months. That all changed when I went to Rick’s College in the fall of 1974.

While there I experienced a mighty change of heart as I listened to prophets and apostles who came to teach us in the weekly devotionals. For those who remember LeGrand Richards, I attribute my desire to serve a mission directly to his amazing testimony of the joy that attends the missionary bearing witness of the restoration.

An idealistic missionary

I wrote a little about that experience in a previous essay. I made up my mind about a year later when I watched and listened to President Kimball teach us that every worthy young man should serve a mission. So I prepared and finally sent in my papers in June of 1976. Three weeks later I was thrilled to receive a mission call.

I wanted to be the kind of missionary that I heard about from LeGrand Richards. I wanted to be a teaching and testifying missionary and so I spent the last six to ten months before my mission studying the doctrines of the restoration so I could feel prepared. I studied, fasted, prayed and did everything to strengthen my testimony.

The shock of reality

I felt I was ready but still, I was in for a shock when I got to the LTM. Anybody who has served a foreign language mission knows what I am talking about. From day three in the LTM we were to only speak our mission language. That was one of the most frustrating experiences of my life so far but it was extremely effective.

By the time I got to Central America I thought I could communicate fairly well in Gringo Spanish. Shock! The native people do not speak slowly and they had very funny accents. Of course, they said my accent was funny and didn’t hesitate to laugh when I spoke. That was tough but they laughed at my companions as well.

Discipline of memorization

In those days we memorized the discussions word for word. Every morning for the first two months of my mission I memorized those discussions until I had passed them all off. From then on I felt like I could concentrate on conversational Spanish and began to feel that I could understand and be understood. Spanish became easy.

To me, learning Spanish in less than six months was a miracle and one of the gifts of the spirit. Once I had the language down, I then focused on being the kind of missionary that LeGrand Richards had caused me to see in my mind’s eye a few years earlier at Rick’s College. We had plenty of opportunities to teach each day.

Teaching and baptizing

Teaching forty discussions in a week was a normal goal for our mission. Some days we taught ten or twelve discussions. We had no problems being invited in as we were tracting so teaching and testifying were everyday activities. Amazingly, I began to recognize early in each discussion those who were sensitive to the spirit.

Without resorting to kiddie baptisms like John Dehlin talked about in his mission, the typical missionary baptized sixty to eighty converts during their two years in Central America. There were four countries in my mission and we could only stay in each county six months. So we changed companions about every six weeks.

First half of my mission

The first half of my mission as a junior companion in Honduras and Costa Rica was a preparatory time for me. I learned a lot from my senior companions. After that I was sent to Panama as a senior companion and then to Nicaragua as a zone leader. We had great success in every county but especially in the poor areas.

In Panama, we found and taught a family that to me, made my time in the mission worth the price. When I think of my mission, I think of the Delgado family. They responded to the spirit and worked hard to qualify for baptism. The way we found them was a miracle and their sweet influence on our whole district was profound.

A vision fulfilled

It was in Panama that I found myself literally fulfilling the vision I had seen of myself as a missionary while at Rick’s College. After teaching a first discussion, we invited a family we had just tracted to kneel with us in prayer. Something special happened during that prayer that brought tears to the eyes of the family.

While still on our knees I testified to them that what they had felt was the spirit of the Holy Ghost bearing witness to the truthfulness of the message that we taught. We asked for and obtained a return appointment and left feeling blessed, knowing that the Lord fulfills his many promises to back up our testimony with his spirit.

Conclusion of my mission

When I arrived in Managua, I was amazed to discover that 85% of the membership in our little branch did not attend church. This was by far the highest inactivity rate we had discovered and we worked hard to change it. By the time we left Reparto Schick, the attendance had increased to 35% and we had new baptisms.

It was just a few months later that civil war engulfed this nation that had already been devastated by an earthquake that had destroyed their capital city. The stories of the missionaries coming out of the area were both frightening and amazing as they bore testimony of the hand of the Lord in protecting them in getting out.

The Returned Missionary

I came home determined to keep my testimony strong. But the transition for a missionary can be difficult. I found myself accepting a job that required working on Sundays. Slowly that fire became dim until I was able to change jobs and get back to regular church attendance. How I missed and appreciated church again!

Soon I met Carol and embarked on a whole new journey of learning to love and serve my own family. Because of what I learned on my mission, I feel I became a better husband and hopefully a better father than I would have been otherwise. I love serving in this church and appreciate the foundation I received on my mission.

Conclusion and summary

It’s hard to summarize the two-year Mormon mission experience in just a few short paragraphs. But if there is one thing I learned and cherish to this day, it is the fact that the Lord really does fulfill his promise that “the Holy Ghost shall be shed forth in bearing record” unto the things we say when speaking the thoughts he gives us.

The knowledge, gained by two years of testing and proving it as a missionary, has served me well in many callings since that day. I love to teach the gospel. What I love most about it is the feeling I get when I teach and bear testimony to the truth. The feeling is indescribable other than to say that it is delicious and most desirable.