Driving into my gate yesterday, I spied two young well dressed bazungu men casually chatting with a man they had stopped along my dirt road. They had neatly pressed white shirts carefully tucked into black slacks, shoulder bags slung across their thin frames still revealing the infamous name tags on the left breast…yep, Mormons. I stuck around the living room, hoping they’d continue down the path and try to convert us since I’ve previously done my homework and am acquainted with all the right passages to counteract the “burning in the bosom.”
As much as I detest false, deceptive, doctrines of demons, I do admire the Mormon missionaries for one thing: their persistence. For around 700 days straight, these devotees traverse endless neighborhoods seeking converts to their movement. Door-to-door work is difficult, be it carpet shampoo sales or the bona fide Gospel about the original Jesus (as opposed to the created Jesus who they say is brother to Lucifer…don’t get me started…). Yet the stats on young Mormon men who stick with the Latter Day Saints after their two year mission abroad are pathetic: most walk away after propagating lies for twenty-four straight months, convinced by their would-be converts that their message is awash with falsehood.
I’ve done my share of door knocking, and for the right cause. From Southern California to Eastern Europe to South Africa and various other nations of the world, I’ve been in some great situations and unbelievable dwellings while spreading the message of the cross. Last week in Lambu was one of those times.
We blocked out one full morning to flood the landing site with the Word of God, but the team woke up terribly ill with some sort of bacteria ravaging their plumbing, so we set out with half our guns armed to do damage to the kingdom of darkness. I was chosen to work alongside a local pastor and the two of us headed off to hit the officials and big men of the town.
The first set of policemen gave us a typical response to our plea: “I’ve heard your message, and I’m coming to be saved…just not now…” Our urges to not delay were met with similar parry, and we left them with seeds sown on hard soil. This excuse is characteristic of those people who see the truth of the word, but have some dark area of life unwilling to be surrendered and transformed.
The town manager was busy with a pile of paperwork and a stack of men sitting around his office when we approached him with the opportunity to hear God’s Word. This muslim man gladly obliged and sat smiling as we spoke truth to the entourage for just a few moments of their day. At the moment of invitation, I pleaded with them to give themselves to God and escape His judgment for their sin, entering into eternal life with Jesus. The big man smirked and barfed up some nonsense about all roads leading to God and everyone already believing in Jesus. After his brief communication, he quickly thanked us for our time and busied himself with his work once again.
En route to another office, the head of fisheries called us to the locus where he was working with other fishmongers, bagging heaps of small fish called mukenne. We preached to the small gathering as they continued raking and packing, but were met with rebuke following our discourse: “What about all those Christians who are living in sin? They come to church and act holy, but we see them around town living just like us! And especially those pastors who are doing such things…you ought to preach to them before us!” We did our best to tell them of standing alone before God, being accountable to the truth of His Word, and of their personal knowledge of Jesus, but the damage was done. These refused to believe while witnessing hypocrisy in action.
Finally we met a man running a coca-cola distribution franchise. He was a staunch Catholic, spoke good English, and even took notes while we were speaking with him, indicating he would study each passage at home when he had more time. He was an honest man, open to God’s Word, and seemed to eagerly desire to grow in deeper relationship with Jesus though he was sure Catholicism had all the answers he needed. After a long debate in Luganda, the man had a breakthrough moment while looking at one Scripture that explicitly told him he must be saved. Customers seemed to come out of nowhere and our time was up, but if anyone would take the time at home to consider our words, this one would.
We returned for lunch with mixed emotions. The burden to teach holiness to the Church weighed heavy on my heart. The vision to train church leaders was clearer than ever. For the sake of souls. For the sake of the world. I’m so glad that it’s not my job to save people. I’ve been commissioned to deliver a clear message, sound out a comprehensible call to follow Jesus, and sow the the Word into every heart that will hear it.
I think I can do that for more than 700 days.