CONVERSION STORY
Philip C. Dixon
My reasons for sharing my conversion story are not for the purpose of entertaining people. I feel now as I look back on my experiences that some of it is quite funny, and I hope that you might think so also. However, my main purpose in telling my story is so that you might learn and that you might benefit from my experiences. I suppose that I tell it for the same reason we read the scriptures. We learn from the lives of the people in the scriptures -- we learn from their mistakes and successes so that we might be better off by not repeating their mistakes. I feel that each of our lives can be scripture to those around us. Indeed, it has been said that for many people outside of the Church, our lives will be the only scriptures they ever read. It is with this thought in mind that I tell my story; may you learn from my experiences.
I was raised in the Episcopal Church and spent the first 22 years of my life in New York. In many ways the Episcopal Church is very similar to the Catholic Church in doctrine and form of worship. There was a great deal of pomp and ceremony involved with the religious expressions. Every Sunday I went to church with my younger sister while my dad waited outside in the car, smoking his pipe, doing the crossword puzzle in the Sunday newspaper. My mother taught Sunday School for many years, but we rarely went to church as a family. Religion was not a big thing in our family, although we were a very happy and close family.
I was forced to go to church every Sunday. I certainly did not enjoy going to church -- I thought it was boring and a complete waste of time. But each Sunday I would participate in the great ritual of the Episcopal Church. There were the long beautiful ornate robes, the crosses and crucifixes, the candles, etc. Throughout the service one would be standing, kneeling, sitting, standing, kneeling, sitting, up and down, up and down. All of the prayers and creeds were very conveniently printed in your prayer book, The Book of Common Prayer. Time and time again I would repeat those prayers and creeds as I read them out of my prayer book, not having any idea what I was saying. About midway through the service, the big brass collection plate that was passed through the congregation into which I would drop my 50 cents which my dad had given to me out of his pocket just prior to the services. There were a few times when I forgot to pick up my money from my dad. At these times, I would simply reach into the collection plate and jingle around some of the money that was already there so everyone would think I had deposited a good deal of change!
When I was about 12 years old, I went through the ritual of being confirmed in the Church. This was supposed to be a great and important event for a young boy or girl. To me it meant nothing more than once or twice a month I could join the others in taking Holy Communion, which is the equivalent of the Sacrament, except that wine is used instead of water. It was somewhat of a status symbol to be able to walk to the front of the church and receive the wafer and sip of wine from the priest. I really didn't know what it all meant spiritually. I was told that it was all part of the great mystery and ritual of the Church, so I didn't inquire much into its meaning. I will never forget the Confirmation service when I was confirmed. The group of twenty or so boys and girls were all seated on the front row of the church. In front of us sat a rather large man dressed in the most elegant and fine apparel one could imagine -- red robes trimmed with gold and silver. In his hand was a beautifully ornate scepter. Upon his head was a large crown with jewels all over it. Prior to the confirmation, this man, who was the Bishop gave a long talk on the importance of the step we were taking in life. I do not remember a single detail of his talk in regards to just how important this step was. But I do recall that he made some comment to the effect that there was no telling just what we would become in life. As he pointed to several boys and girls, he said that perhaps that boy would be a lawyer, and that girl would be a nurse, and that boy would be a corporate president, etc. Then, he pointed directly to me and said, "And perhaps you will be a Priest." Nothing seemed so far removed from my mind! But little did he know that in 10 years I would have the sacred privilege and responsibility of being a High Priest in the Lord's Church.
After the main Sunday services there was Sunday School. As far as I was concerned, Sunday School was a time for "fooling around" and socializing with my friends. I really didn't see the point of it. I learned very little. The only thing I did learn was a few passages from the Old Testament: Ecclesiastes 3:1-9. This is the passage which begins, "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven." I was made to learn this one week because I was "fooling around" too much during class. The point was that Sunday School was not the time to be "fooling around," but that there were appropriate times for it. I memorized it during the week and recited it to the class the following Sunday. I forgot it two weeks later.
Christmas and Easter in our home meant little more than Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. It was a time of gifts, festivities, having the relatives over for dinner, and a new Spring suit which I could "show off" to everyone on Easter Sunday. It should be understood that religion was not forced on me. I was forced to attend church, as it was the socially acceptable thing to do. As an example of this attitude, my brother decided that he should have his first son Christened in the Episcopal Church a few weeks after his birth. I knew that he had no intention of raising him in the Episcopal Church, or any other church for that matter. I asked him why he was going to have his son Christened if it meant nothing to him spiritually. His answer was merely that it was the socially acceptable thing to do! My father very rarely went to church, and so I felt very silly going to church. It didn't seem like the very "manly" thing to do. Church seemed to be for sissies. I loved my dad, and I wanted to be like him. If he didn't have to go to church, then why should I?
After my Freshman year in high school, I went to a New England college preparatory school in Connecticut, called Westminster School. This was a very formal school for boys. The students were required to wear coats and ties to classes and meals, and all the teachers were referred to as "Masters." There were chapel services every day of the week except Wednesdays and Saturdays. The only reason why services were not held on Wednesday and Saturday was that these were the days when the athletic games were scheduled, and nothing could interfere with the athletic games! Attendance at the services was mandatory, and they were Episcopal oriented. I didn't think much about religion at this point in my life, but I went through all the motions at the chapel services. I suppose that I believed in God, but I didn't seek out any of His qualities or characteristics, nor did I try to establish any kind of personal relationship with Him. I was taught all the Episcopal prayers, so I really didn't have to do much thinking on my own. When the prayers were said in Church, I merely bowed my head out of habit and repeated the prayer or creed. I knew just when to kneel, sit, or stand -- I knew the whole service by heart. I do recall, though, after being at Westminster for only a few weeks, that I peeked during one of the prayers. As I looked around, I noticed that some of the students -- some of my close friends -- were not kneeling during the prayer! They didn't even have their eyes closed! This at first seemed to be blasphemous! I wondered why they were not praying. I later asked my roommate why this was so, and he told me that some people didn't believe in God. I was a little bit shocked, to say the least! I thought to myself, "You mean to tell me that I've been going to church all my life and there might not even be a God?!" I thought that all that time had been wasted. Well, I decided to just let it go, and I didn't think much about it any more. But it did surprise me, because I had assumed that everyone went to church and believed in God. I suppose that at this point in my life I began to question God's existence. But such thoughts were much too philosophical for me. I would give it deeper thought in college.
Three years passed, and I entered college. I attended a small liberal arts college in upstate New York called St. Lawrence University. It was a college of about 2,000 students and was situated very near the St. Lawrence River, near the Canadian border. To give you some idea what kind of college this was, it was often referred to as the Playboy Club of the North Country. In fact, I was told that a major magazine once did a study of the amount of alcohol consumed on college campuses in the United States. The colleges were ranked from one to ten, with number one representing the college which consumed the most alcohol. St. Lawrence did not appear on the list. But a footnote was added to the article which said that they were sorry that they could not include St. Lawrence University on the list, because St. Lawrence had gone professional in turning out alcoholics. So, this was the kind of environment I was put into! Here was freedom at last -- I could really "live"! No more coats and ties, no more church! I could do as I pleased during my first few months at college. My grades suffered greatly as a result of my new attitude.
During my freshman year, I became very interested in the study of philosophy and religion. In fact, philosophy became my major, and I graduated with honors in philosophy. I became very interested, indeed, fascinated, in the ideas of man. My study was by no means a spiritual one. I was not searching for the answers to life. I was interested merely from an intellectual standpoint -- I was curious. I thought that many of these ideas were strange and curious. I soon was able to formulate my own philosophy of life. In the Church we claim to have the answers to three important questions: Where did we come from before this life? Why are we here? and, Where are we going after this life is over? I felt I had the answers to these questions (although I knew nothing of the Church). First of all, Where did we come from? The answer: Nowhere! Man is merely the result of a group of atoms and molecules which just happened by chance to get together at a certain time and place. Man is an accident. Second, Why are we here? No reason at all! We are here to have a good time. We are to make the very best of what we have. I adopted what is termed "Situational Ethics" -- the "do-your-own-thing" morality. There used to be a commercial on television a few years ago, the slogan of which said, "You only go through this life once, so live it with all the gusto you can!" This was my philosophy. Isn't it interesting that this was a beer commercial! In the Book of Mormon, Nephi described me perfectly:
Yea, and there shall be many which shall say: Eat, drink and be merry; for tomorrow we die and it shall be well with us. And there shall also be many which shall say: Eat, drink and be merry, nevertheless fear God, He will justify in committing a little sin; yea lie a little, take the advantage of one because of his words, dig a pit for thy neighbor; there is no harm in this; and do all these things for tomorrow we die, and if it so be that we are guilty, God will beat us with a few stripes, and at last we shall be saved in the kingdom of God. (2 Nephi 28:7-8)
Thirdly, Where are We going after this life? Obviously, nowhere! At birth we began this existence, and at death we end it. The plug is pulled out of the socket, so to speak. In psychological and philosophical terms, I adopted two disciplines of thought: Logical Positivism and Behaviorism. Behaviorism is a psychological theory which says, in its most radical form, that all of man's thoughts and actions could be reduced to physical, mechanical, and chemical terms and explanations if only we knew enough about the physics and chemistry of the human body. This theory reduces man to a mere robot. He has no free will. It says that if we had enough technology, we could predict every thought and action of every human being. Logical Positivism is a philosophical school of thought which declares that if an idea is not provable by scientific means in a scientific laboratory, it is either not true, or at least not worth talking about. Such things are meaningless. Therefore, there is either no God, or He is not worth discussing, because His existence cannot be proven scientifically. There is no use in talking about life after death because that too could not be proven in the laboratory. I felt that what the world really needed was more Science, for therein lay the success in human affairs.
Indeed, I would have been an avid supporter of Korihor, that great anti-Christ in the Book of Mormon. At one point in his career, Korihor was speaking of the senselessness of spiritual things:
How do ye know of their surety? Behold ye cannot know of things which ye do not see; therefore ye cannot know there shall be a Christ. Ye look forward and say that ye see a remission of your sins. But behold, it is the effect of a frenzied mind and this derangement of your minds comes because of the traditions of your fathers, which lead you away into a belief of things which are not so. (Alma 30:15, 16)
With all of life's questions answered, I could go out every night and get drunk without any guilt feelings at all. It was not that I felt I had to answer these questions, but I guess I felt pretty good about my new-found knowledge. It was great to be able to rationalize my way into having a little fun. A few years later a humble missionary would clearly define the word "rationalize": "To rationalize is merely to make up rational lies."
About midway through my freshman year, I was introduced to one of Satan's greatest tools: Marijuana. When I could afford it, I indulged quite heavily. My roommate gave me my first "joint", and from then on I became well known for my smoking habits. Many nights I went floating across campus, either stoned, drunk, or both. I made a complete fool of myself so often but that really didn't matter. The purpose of life was to have a good time! Of course, I never smoked cigarettes, they were bad for your health.
I met Anne, my wife, on my second day at college -- at the freshman dance, of course! I soon found that we both basically had the same beliefs. We, therefore, had a good time together. The one thing, though, that really bothered me about her was that she insisted on singing in the local Episcopal Church choir. She said she enjoyed singing, and she had been singing in choirs all her life. But I didn't want her to have anything to do with a church or religion. I was very selfish, and a church took her away from me. Really, what I was saying was that she had to make a choice: God or me. I figured that the whole thing would blow over before too long and that she would get bored with her church after she really got to know me. When I wanted a few laughs, I went down to the church to listen to her sing and watch the show. I knew I was a hypocrite, but that was alright -- I had all the answers to life.
That was my state during my freshman, sophomore, and half of my junior years at college. I laughed at religions. While I was at college, the "Jesus movement" became very popular among college students. The college had many "Jesus Freaks." I remember seeing them in the lounges of the dormitories reading their Bibles and praying. As I walked by them, I would laugh to myself and think what fools they are!
As I look back on these experiences, I realize now that I was among those whom Lehi saw in the great and spacious building in his vision of the tree of life. He was dreaming that many were searching for the tree of life and were holding onto an iron rod, representing the word of God, as it directed them to the tree. The way was hard, and there were many pitfalls. It was misty and dark -- one had to hold tightly to the iron rod in order to reach the tree of life. off to the side, on the opposite side of a river of water, was a great and spacious building representing the pride of the world:
And I also cast my eyes round about and beheld, on the other side of the river of water, a great and spacious building; and it stood as it were in the air, high above the earth. And it was filled with people, both old and young, both male and female; and their manner of dress was exceeding fine; and they were in the attitude of mocking and pointing their fingers towards those who had come at and were partaking of the fruit. (1 Nephi 8:26-67)
There I was in the great and spacious building! This would become even more evident when I began to study "Mormonism." I sincerely believed that religion was a crutch for the weak. I believed it was for people who could not face reality. I felt that people made up religion to give life meaning, when really there was no meaning at all! I followed Karl Marx's thinking, who said that religion was the opiate of the people -- it was just to make them happy. I guess I believed what Korihor said -- religion was the result of a frenzied mind! I had what so few people had -- Truth! And that was that there were no truths except mathematical and scientific ones! I truly felt sorry for the religious people. They had been duped. They were living in a fantasy world. Yes, this was a very pessimistic view of life. But I was proud of the fact that I could face up to the cold, hard facts of life.
Indeed, I was an atheist, and I was proud of it. Surely, if there was a God, He would have made Himself known to me. Jacob described me beautifully:
O that cunning plan of the evil one! O the vainness and the frailties and the foolishness of men! When they are learned they think they are wise, and they hearken not unto the counsel of God, for they set it aside, supposing they know of themselves, wherefore their wisdom is foolishness and it profiteth them not, And they shall perish. (2 Nephi 9:28)
I continued to be fascinated with the intellectual study of religion. I took several courses in religion and philosophy. I studied most of the major religions of the world -- Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism, Confucianism, Buddhism, Taoism, etc., etc. One course that I took, however, was to change my life.
During the first semester of my junior year, I took a course entitled "World Religions". I studied most of the Eastern religions in the course, all of which I found intellectually interesting. One of the requirements of the course was to write a twenty page term paper on some world religion. I really didn't know what to write my paper on -- twenty pages seemed like an awful lot. My roommate suggested I write my paper on the Mormons. That seemed as good as anything else, as I had already thrown out most Eastern religions. John, my roommate, didn't know much about the Mormons. He was from Palmyra, and, in fact, lived only a short distance down the road from Hill Cumorah. All that he could tell me about the Mormons was that every year, during the summer, thousands of Mormons descended upon this little town for a big pageant at the base of Hill Cumorah - Beyond that, all he knew was that the big gold statue atop the hill had something to do with their religion. I knew nothing about the Mormons. I do recall that during a United states history course I took in the eighth grade, we learned that Brigham Young walked into the Salt Lake Valley on July 24, 1847. I remembered that because July 24 was my birthday.
I went to the University Library to see what kind of books they had on the Mormons. I found three Book of Mormons, a few good Church books (Essentials in Church History, Jesus the Christ), and quite a few anti-Mormon books. I began to read the Book of Mormon without paying much attention to what I was reading. But I became thoroughly engrossed in one of the anti-Mormon books. It came complete with a whole chapter describing in detail the temple ordinances. Of course, I didn't realize that it was an anti-Mormon book -- I thought it was a good, unbiased view of the Church (just as the author claimed it to be). I found the book to be fascinating, and I couldn't put it down. I thought to myself that this must be the ultimate in strange religions. To me it proved the foolishness of all religion, and deepened my own feelings towards life's meaninglessness. I couldn't believe that so many people could believe such foolishness and nonsense. It seemed so obviously false. Imagine: Angels appearing to men in this day and age! Or gold plates! As I read the book, I would often read aloud many passages to my roommate and other interested persons. We all had lots of laughs over it. Then we would all go out and get drunk or stoned as we discussed Mormonism. I would share my new found knowledge with all my friends -- indeed, there I was preaching" the Gospel!
I began to greatly look forward to writing my term paper, and I hoped to make the Mormonism look like a foolishness. I certainly hoped that I could do half as well as the author of the book I was reading. As I read the book, I took down careful notes of everything I read. By the time I was halfway through the book, I had written about twenty pages of handwritten notes. I went to my professor to be sure that my subject was appropriate. He told me quite frankly that it was not -- I should choose a subject that we had been studying in class, and Mormonism was not one of them. Besides that, he claimed that Mormonism was not a world religion -- it was an American cult. I talked with him later that afternoon and explained that I was afraid that Mormonism was indeed a world religion. Mormons were all over the world now. He agreed to let me write my paper on the subject, adding that he expected something pretty good. I said I would do my best.
I suppose I was very much like Alma the Younger in the Book of Mormon, who spent all of his youthful years persecuting the Church. After he was converted, though, he looked back on his life and described himself as "the very vilest of sinners." That was exactly what I was: The very vilest of sinners. My friends were receiving a very distorted and perverted view of the Church through me. I decided that it might be nice to meet a Mormon - perhaps an exclusive interview with a Mormon might help my paper. I went to the campus chaplain to ask him if he knew of any Mormons on campus. He told me that he knew of none, but he gave me the name and address of a Dr. Lawrence Flake of Cornell University in Ithaca, New York who was in some way responsible for all Mormon students in that part of New York. I wrote to Dr. Flake, asking him for any information on the Church, and I also asked him to tell me his own feelings about "Mormonism." I promptly received a package from him. He sent me two books -- A Marvelous Work and a Wonder and Truth Restored. He also wrote a very nice letter, the last paragraph of which read as follows:
You asked me to tell you my own feelings towards the Church. I have an absolute certainty of the truth of "Mormonism" and an unwavering conviction that the restoration of the Church and Gospel of Christ is the most important message for mankind since the angels announced the birth of the Savior. I strongly encourage you to make your study more than an academic consideration. Through earnest prayer, God will bless you with a knowledge of the truth of this message.
I could hardly believe what I was reading! Me, the great atheist with all of life's questions answered, give Mormonism more than an academic interest! He must be crazy! About this time my roommate began to get a little worried about me. He thought I was getting a little too serious about Mormonism. I put him at ease, though, by telling him that the only way I could ever be converted was if Jesus Christ and God the Father were to appear to me just as they did to Joseph Smith. That seemed to calm him down, and the problem was never brought up again.
A few days prior to receiving Dr. Flake's letter, I was sitting at lunch with Anne when she asked me if I knew that a girl who was in my French class, Holly Hurd, was a Mormon. I did not know it, but I was not surprised because I noticed that she always dressed extremely modestly -- unlike most other college girls. I called Holly that afternoon to set a date to talk with her. We would meet that evening. I went to see her with the attitude, "Oh boy! Now's my chance! I'll put her in her place!" Holly put me in my place. She had all the answers to my questions, and she gave me piles of pamphlets and other literature to read. I at first took this to be propaganda, but I took them to my room to glance through. I found out that she had been to the university chaplain when school first started to tell him she was Mormon and that if anyone was interested in Mormonism, she would be happy to talk to them. It seems very strange that the chaplain, a Universalist minister, had forgotten this when I went to visit him.
Holly and I decided to take a trip to Palmyra one Saturday. It was only about 200 miles away, and it would give me a chance to see some of the Mormon landmarks. We visited the Sacred Grove, Joseph Smith's House, Hill Cumorah. Then we took a ride down to Fayette, New York to see the Whitmer farm. It was about 6:00 P.M., and the missionary couple were about to close up, but they kept it open long enough for us to go through the exhibit, for which we were very thankful. As we were about to leave, they invited us to a ward dinner they were having. We accepted and had a wonderful time. The thing that really struck me was that here were a room full of Mormons and they all looked like normal people! There were no horns on their heads, or long pointy tails!
The next day, Sunday, we traveled to Ottawa, Canada for a District Conference. St. Lawrence was within the Ottawa, Canada district, and it was about an hour and a half drive to the conference. The session was very enjoyable and impressive. Once again I met quite a few Mormons, and they all looked "normal". Up to this point, I had been reading the Book of Mormon, but I was not being particularly careful about what I was reading. I was reading it just so I could record in my paper the fact that I had read it. But now I decided to stop reading the anti-Mormon books, and I started reading the Book of Mormon over again, concentrating on what I was reading. I also began reading such books as Essentials in Church History, A Marvelous Work and a Wonder and other good books.
A few days after the District Conference at Ottawa, I was with Holly discussing the Church. We were in her room at the time, and the phone rang. After a few moments of silence while Holly listened to the party on the other end, she turned to me and asked me if I would like to meet with the missionaries. I thought that that would be fine -- they might be able to give me a lot of information for my paper. A date was set, and little did I know what I was really getting into at that point. I suddenly found myself in the middle of the missionary discussions.
As I met with the missionaries, my attitude began to change. I guess you might say that I began to experience an intellectual conversion to the gospel. At least, it all began to make logical sense. I began to think that if there was a God, it would only be reasonable that He would reveal himself to prophets. The idea of current revelation made a great deal of sense. Indeed, if Christ did set up a Church anciently, His Church ought to have the same organization today. The idea of an apostasy was consistent with what I knew about world history, and explained very well the existence of so many "Christian" Churches today. And certainly not all of the Churches could be true; either they are all wrong or there is one true one among them. And I even admitted to myself that if there was any true religion, then the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints must be that true religion, as it claimed to be. It seemed to be what religion ought to be -- unchanging, uncompromising, practical.
My friends couldn't quite believe the change that was coming over me. I began to attend Church -- a 60 mile round trip excursion to a small branch in Massena, New York. I began to obey the Word of Wisdom, much to the dismay of my friends. It is interesting to recall that just prior to returning to college for this, my Junior year, the Lord "blessed" me with a very slight case of hepatitis. This, of course, ended my drinking days until the disease cleared up, hepatitis being a liver disease and alcohol being particularly bad for the liver. So, the Lord had pretty much solved my drinking problem, probably knowing that if I continued at the rate I was going, I would most likely be an alcoholic by the time I reached my senior year at college. Another experience caused me to think a bit more as to what I was doing to myself. A friend offered me some great "stuff', one day, but he didn't know what it was -- only that it really gave you a great "high". Being willing to try bigger and better things, I decided to buy some. But just prior to the completion of the sale, I found out that the "stuff" was heroine. At that point I woke up and severely curtailed my use of drugs. My biggest problem was in connection with the type of friends with which I associated. They were the drinkers, smokers, the loud and rowdy type. There were parties almost every night, and profanity was always flying. It was difficult to break away from this environment -- these were my best friends. But I knew that I must do so if I were to ever find out if the Church was true. I had much to repent of. And after reading just a little ways into the Book of Mormon, I received comfort from Nephi's words:
I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save He shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which He commandeth them. (1 Nephi 3:7)
I will never forget the night I finished the last discussion with the missionaries. This was in December of 1972. Usually at the end of each discussion, we would all sit around, chat and tell jokes. But at the end of this one the elders and Holly were particularly quiet -- in fact, not a word was uttered. We sat in silence for a few minutes, which made me very nervous. Suddenly, I knew what to say: "I'm ready to be baptized." Everyone seemed elated and a date was set. The baptism was to be in Ottawa, Canada where the nearest baptismal font was located. The day before the scheduled baptism was the worst day of my life. I recall sitting in my math class asking myself the question, "Why am I doing this? I'm losing my friends. Is it really true?" I later was told by a friend that my roommate had said that he felt he was losing his best friend. The pressure was too much. I really didn't know it was true, and I was not ready to take the sacred baptismal covenants. The hardest thing was to try to explain it to Holly, although she was very sympathetic. Then, I called the missionaries, who were in Ottawa already preparing the baptismal arrangements. They were heartbroken and wanted to talk to me in person, which they did the next day. They encouraged me to keep praying and studying, and they wanted to continue to visit me. I thought that would be fine, but I knew I really had no intention of carrying "Mormonism" any further. I had learned a great deal about the Church, but I had had no spiritual feelings regarding it. I decided to forget about "Mormonism".
In January 1973, my roommate decided to go to another college for a special one month college program while I stayed at St. Lawrence. There was a lot of free time during the month -- a lot of time think. I soon found that it was not going to be too easy to break away from "Mormonism". I began to read the Book of Mormon for the third time. I became fascinated with it, and found I could read for hours at a time, without putting it down. Soon after the Interterm began, the Elders came by and left me a beautiful triple combination, and I felt some obligation to read it. Not only did I start reading it, but I began to underline passages, and cross reference them with my Bible. I met with the missionaries often. I began to have a feeling for the Book of Mormon which I could not explain.
I shall never forget one cold winter night that January. I decided that I really ought to put the challenge of the Book of Mormon to test -- find out if the Gospel was, in fact, true. The nights got pretty cold in up-state New York, and this one must have been well below zero. I bundled up in my sweater, jacket, scarf, gloves and boots about 11:00 at night and took a walk out to the university's golf course, where I knew I could be alone. There I knelt down in the snow to pray. I really didn't expect to see any angels or lightning, or hear any thunder, but I thought it might be nice. I would have settled for just a good feeling in my heart. After 45 minutes, I felt nothing -- in fact, my knees were numb from the snow. I went back to my dormitory and climbed into bed very disappointed. I continued to read the Book of Mormon, however.
A few days after this experience on the golf course, I came to the Book of Alma, chapter 29, verses 1 through 10. They hit me like a ton of bricks. It reads in part:
O that I were an angel, and could have the wish of mine heart, that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God, with a voice to shake the earth, and cry repentance unto every people! Yea, I would declare unto every soul, as with the voice of thunder, repentance and the plan of redemption, that they should repent and come unto our God that there might not be more sorrow upon all the face of the earth.
As I read this, I felt as though I was reading the most beautiful piece of literature that was ever written. As I thought about it, I realized that these words expressed my true feelings perfectly. The words served to make me fully aware of my feelings about the Gospel. The gospel was true! And my greatest desire was to share it with others. I had now experienced a true spiritual conversion. That afternoon, I called the missionaries and told them of my desire to be baptized. "Now I am ready," I told them.
Before I was baptized, Satan tried once more to stop me. It was the night before I was to be baptized, and it was one of the most frightening yet testimony-building experiences I have ever had. I was sleeping very soundly that night when I woke up sometime in the early morning hours to what sounded like a voice. I remember sitting up in bed, looking at my clock next to my bed, and then looking around the room. Although I could see very little, I could "feel" the presence of "something" in the room. Then, I heard a voice which was just as clear as though I were reading this paper to you aloud. Although I do not recall the exact words, the voice said something which tried to imply that the Book of Mormon was not true and that it was of Satan. A very cold and frightening feeling accompanied all of this, and I knew without doubt that Satan was after me. I climbed out of bed and knelt down beside my bed and prayed for strength to overcome Satan. Before long, I felt at peace and I realized how foolish Satan is. I realized that if Satan was trying to tell you that something was not true, then you can probably rest assured that it is indeed true! So, this experience only served to strengthen my testimony and desire to join the Church. The following day, February 1, 1973, I was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church in Ottawa, Canada.
A few days later, my roommate returned to St. Lawrence for the spring semester. I had decided not to tell anyone of my conversion. I wanted to see if anyone could notice a change in me. Obviously I wasn't drinking or smoking "dope," but I had stopped doing these things before the January term. About two weeks later, my roommate and a friend came to me and told me they had a bet going. My roommate was betting that I was not a "Mormon," while the friend was betting that I was! I believe the bet even carried a $5.00 prize to the winner. They had put me on the spot. I had to answer. Indeed, they were both surprised to hear that I was a "Mormon"! But there was an interesting thing about it my roommate had not lost his best friend. Nothing between us had changed. In fact, weeks later he began to take the missionary lessons. He never joined, and he still has not, but I'm sure that the seeds have been planted. I lost no friends through my baptism. I would say that my friends respected me more for the decision I made.
This is my conversion story, I suppose. But really it is not over yet. In fact, it will never be over. That's what eternal progression is all about. After my baptism, I had my periods of ups and downs. But in the summer of 1973 I had an experience which set me on the proper path. Anne and I decided to go to the Hill Cumorah pageant in Palmyra, New York. We drove several hours in the heat of the summer and finally reached the hill in the early afternoon. We climbed to the top of the Hill. Near the top was a couple sitting on a stone bench. They asked us if we were members of the Church. I told them that I was. He then told me that President Lee was here on the hill. I walked the few remaining steps to the top of the hill, and there stood President Harold B. Lee admiring the statue of the Angel Moroni. I stood somewhat aghast, as I stared at this man. I couldn't say anything, as I did not want to disturb that hallowed moment. But as I gazed upon this man, I realized that there stood a true prophet of the living God. I took several pictures which I shall always treasure. The following day, President Lee addressed a large congregation of several thousand people. I had just received a portable tape recorder a few days earlier for my birthday (Anne gave it to me), and I had brought it with me to Hill Cumorah "just in case." I was able to record both President Lee's and Sister Lee's talks that morning. I still have those recordings, and it has tremendous value to me. After hearing the prophet speak, I decided to rededicate myself to the Gospel. It was to be my life. A few months later, President Lee died.
Later that summer, as a Priest, I had the great privilege of baptizing Anne. We returned to college in September as the only members of the Church on the campus. I realized that I had a lot of work to do to correct the evils I had started the year before. We were on our own, as Holly had been accepted at Brigham Young University.
I would hope that no one will have to go through what I went through. It is not necessary in gaining a testimony of the Gospel. I am thankful for it, for it was probably what I needed! I hope that others can learn from my experiences. The Gospel is TRUE. That testimony is available to everyone. I shall never forget what President Lee said at Hill Cumorah that Sunday morning. He recognized that we all have our ups and downs. Indeed, not everyone has a strong testimony. He advised that when you have periods of doubt or weakness, be sure to lean on someone else's testimony -- Believe because he does, or because your Bishop does. Nevertheless, lean on someone. But this will not be good enough forever. You cannot always lean on someone else's testimony. You have to gain your own, for it is available to you. The important thing is not that you can lean on another testimony. The important thing is that you gain a testimony for yourself.
The advice that I would give to you is no different than the advice that has been given since Adam was created: Keep the commandments. Not just the easy ones -- All of them. We all have our problems. We all have periods of despair. But when you have these times, look around you. The birds are still singing, the flowers are still blooming, the children are still laughing. The world didn't come to an end after all! May your testimony of the Gospel and your involvement in the Church be so strong that living the principles of the Gospel becomes natural to you. But may it never become so tedious to you that you can't take great joy in the Gospel, for that is the reason for its existence. You should never let it become so commonplace and taken for granted that you are not able to shed tears of joy while reading the Scriptures or while listening to the voice of a living Prophet.
