My church, my religion, and my faith are inextricably connected to the Book of Mormon. The Book of Mormon was my first proof of Joseph Smith as a prophet. So without the book, there would be no prophet. If there is no prophet, there is no Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If there is no church, no prophet, and no Book of Mormon, then I would have no true understanding of Christ and his gospel.
The Vantage Point of a Convert
Unlike many Latter-day Saints who have been born into the faith, I am a convert, and as such, I can remember not having God, Christ, a prophet, a church, and the Book of Mormon in my life. I was fifteen years old, a sophomore in high school in Long Beach, California, when the missionaries started coming to my home. I know clearly the direction my life was heading as a teenager in the late '60s. I was a good kid, and I tended to hang around with good kids. But I was a normal kid facing an increasingly permissive and promiscuous culture of hippies, acid rock music, drugs, and free love. Even the best young people in my circle of friends were gradually failing prey to the society in which we were growing up. My time was surely coming.I thought very little about God. My parents had a faith in a Christian God, but they were not church goers. I accepted the reasonableness that a Supreme Being existed, but I imagined him as a massive cloud of energy that floated through the universe, much like various alien life forms that Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock encountered on a weekly basis. At any rate, such a vast mass of super-charged energy and unimaginable intelligence had nothing to do with my personal life.
I accepted the historical reality of a man from Nazareth named Jesus. Was he the metaphorical son of an ethereal cloud of intelligence? Possibly. Was he resurrected? I could not rule out the possibility. The Cloud-God could probably do anything it wanted. But even if Jesus had come back to life, it did not have anything to do with my life.
I had never read the Bible or even portions of it, though we had one in our home somewhere. I knew a few of the famous Bible stories, which my parents had taught me as a child. And I had seen The Ten Commandments and The Robe and The Greatest Story Ever Told. Still, they were just stories, no better than any other gripping historical fiction stories. I was entertained, but I was not "converted".
For worldly pursuits I was interested in writing and poetry. I was in the journalism class and was getting involved with the high school newspaper. I liked sports, although I had no unrealistic aspirations of being a professional athlete. I loved music. I had learned to play the guitar and had formed various bands with my friends. I did not think of music as a possible profession, though; just fun. I planned to graduate from high school, go to a university, preferably out of state. and become an elementary school teacher. My other goal was to stay out of the military draft and as far from the Vietnam War as possible.
Normal With a Quirk
So in general my life was headed in a fairly typical direction for a non-religious but relatively decent human being. The one quirk in my otherwise normal life was a funny feeling I got on Sundays. I had no desire to go to a church on Sunday, but I felt somehow inferior to people who went to church. I was not entirely comfortable going out in public on Sunday mornings. I recall vividly one Sunday morning when I was in seventh grade. A friend invited me to come to his house to go swimming in his pool. I had to ride my bike to his house, which was several miles away. I felt guilty and conspicuous as I rode down the streets. As cars drove by or as I saw people in their yards, I hoped that they thought that I was riding my bike to church. I have no idea why I was concerned about whether strangers thought I was a church person. I do not know why I viewed Sunday differently than Saturday. It was just a glitch in my otherwise carefree conscience.I believe I would have ended up as a decent person with no police record and no traffic tickets. I probably would have gotten married eventually, since marriage was still "in" in those days, but certainly not to the person I am married to now. I would have had a child or two, but not the children I have now. I'm pretty sure I would not have lasted as a elementary school teacher any longer than I actually did. I likely would have ended up in computers, although I would not have had a career working for the LDS Church. I might not have lived my entire life in Southern California, but I would definitely not be living in Utah. Outwardly I would probably be living a pretty good life and enjoying ten percent more of my spendable income.
Life and Death
In this alternative universe, I am not sure how I would have been affected by the death of my parents, my sister and my brother. To think that their lives are over and done and their personalities and their memories are evaporated into the ether is almost too much to comprehend. I can see why people become despondent with overwhelming grief when a loved one dies. To be dead is to cease to exist in any form. When this mortal life is all one knows and all one can hope for, existence is meaningless. Even if one leaves a monumental legacy behind, like a beautiful building or a painting or a book, it really does not matter. Other meaningless, mortal life forms may enjoy and appreciate the legacy, but in the end, they will die and disintegrate, and the physical legacy will eventually crumble and disappear, and there will have been no purpose to any of it.If in my alternate universe I thought there was a Satan, I would suppose that he would keep us thoroughly entertained and distracted with materialism for as long as possible. He would not want us to pause and consider the meaning of our lives very often or for very long. It would be depressing and painful. Such feelings might make us want to look for something more in life than just eating, drinking and making merry. I believe if I paused long enough to consider my life in this godless, church-less, faithless world, I would be very depressed.
Profound Gratitude
In other words, without the Book of Mormon, my life would be hardly recognizable from what it is today. I am profoundly and eternally grateful that I have the Book of Mormon in my life. Because of my testimony of that book, the cornerstone of my religion, I know about prophets, I belong to the true church of Christ, I know God to be my Heavenly Father, and I know that Jesus is the Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of the world and of me personally. I am grateful to say that I am striving to become a disciple of Christ.I have a wonderful, faithful wife in whom I have supreme confidence. I have marvelous children and grandchildren. I have friends who have touched my life deeply and have helped me to change for the better. I have served a mission and performed many humanitarian acts of service throughout my life. I have a rich faith that feeds my spirit and gives me courage and purpose and hope. I know that my parents and siblings live on, and that we will see each other again and recognize each other and rejoice together in our reunion. I know that my wife and children will be mine in eternity because of the atonement of Christ. Because of his literal resurrection, I know that I and every other living person who has ever walked this earth will be resurrected and have a physical body for eternity. Because of the Book of Mormon, I know Jesus Christ; and because of Jesus, I know the purpose for this earth life.It is not meaningless; it is not a waste. We have a purpose here, and that is to prepare ourselves, and to help others to prepare, to return to God and eventually progress into beings of love and intelligence and power, as he is. This is my life because of the Book of Mormon.
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