American Visitors

With no one to speak to at Llewellin Barracks and only Pegi to speak with each evening, I was dying for some more intelligent conversation.  I would even settle for an argument!  

The only books worth reading in my office library were science fiction.  At least that engaged my mind.  I had always loved science fiction.  And now, even though I was thoroughly convinced that I understood God’s plan for the universe including eternity past and the prophetic future, there was something about sci-fi that attracted me.  I think it was that it forced me to think in new ways, to consider a universe of possibilities for which I had not already nailed down theological answers.

I was reading a sci-fi novel by Issac Asimov one Saturday afternoon when, lo and behold, there was a knock at our front door!  This time it wasn’t our neighbor complaining about our dogs’ midnight garbage-tipping forays.  Standing at my door were three American Mormon missionaries.  They had come by to tell me about the revelations of their founder, Joseph Smith.  They were Americans!  I happily invited them in.

Pegi offered them coffee, which of course they declined.  Then she offered them tea which they also politely refused.  After offering them a Pepsi and finally realizing that they didn’t partake of any caffeine products, she brought them ice water.  

Our conversation didn’t immediately turn to Mormon theology.  For a long while we spoke about NFL football and college basketball.  This was the first time since arriving in Rhodesia a year before that I had anyone to talk with about my two favorite sports.  When the conversation did finally turn to their religious beliefs, I listened politely.  I already “knew it all” since I had studied thousands of hours of biblical instruction with Thieme.  

I apologize here to any Latter Day Saints who may read this, but as they shared their “prophetic revelation” with me, it sounded very similar to the science fiction that I was reading.  Today, I understand how all religion sounds like science fiction to non-adherents.  Hut, back in early 1978, as they sat on our sofa in Bulawayo, the only interest I had in their story was what seemed to be a sci-fi element.

They left me a copies of the Book of Mormon and their version of the Bible.  I promised to read them and let them know what I thought on their return visit.

Well, now I had some interesting “fiction” to read and an upcoming visit from these young fellows where an interesting discussion or a good argument was certain to ensue.  This was going to be fun!

My new friends returned the a couple of weeks later.  This time, they were eager to get down to business.  No sports talk this week!

They asked me if I had read the books.  Responding that I had, I told them that I had to be honest with them.  I found that their translation of the Bible had serious errors.  They assured me that this translation was a fresh one directly from the original Hebrew and Greek texts by Joseph Smith.  That made me chuckle as I explained that some sections seemed to plagiarize the King James translation of 1611, including some of the translation and textual errors of textus receptus, the collection of manuscripts from which the KJV was translated.  

I could see that they weren’t prepared for a textual argument, so I shifted gears to discuss the differences in the teachings of the Book of Mormon, specifically with Ephesians and Paul’s epistles.  The concept of salvation by grace through faith was obscured in the Mormon texts.  Instead, a system of salvation by “works” was clearly taught.  Surely, they would be ready to discuss or argue this seminal point?

Nope!  They refused to discuss grace and works.  So, I moved on to my final hope of engaging them in an argument since an intelligent discussion was not happening.  I pulled out my big guns:  

“I can tell you that this is pretty good science fiction!  But there is no way that it stands the its teaching is consistent with the Bible.”

At this point, the lead “elder” (all of 20 years of age), stood and announced:

“Well, we just came to let you know that there is a prophet living in the world today and to present you with the words of God’s prophets that came before.”

The three of them immediately left and exited our front door.  Watching them leave, they shook the dust off their feet, got on their bicycles and headed down the street.

They hadn’t won me to their faith and I hadn’t convinced them of anything.  But, it had been nice to have a conversation with someone about something!

A few weeks later, I saw them on their bicycles at a nearby shop.  I waved and smiled.  They kept on peddling.

I wished it would be so simple for me--to just keep on peddling.  My problem, however, was that my bicycle of bible doctrine was beginning wobble.  Theology and doctrine were fine, but the ultimate test was how it was lived-out.  And that was my problem.  Much of the bible doctrine that I had learned from Col Thieme just wasn’t working.  God’s plan for my life was not moving along the lines that I expected.

Thieme’s political theory, called the “Laws of Divine Establishment” were crashing around me.  According to Thieme, Rhodesia was doing everything right, but it was clear to me that the Rhodesians were just like everyone else, pursuing what was best for themselves.  There was no good excuse for the laggard pace at which they were bringing black Africans forward into positions of prominence.  African schooling was primitive, yet schooling for whites was comparable with what could be found in any British Commonwealth nation.

Smith had proclaimed Rhodesia a “Meritocracy” where the “best” of any race could rise to the top.  That just wasn’t true. Africans could not rise to positions of equality with whites, much less to the top.  When I shared these concerns with Col Thieme, I was labeled as “unstable and unreliable.”  The bible doctrine in my soul was apparently malfunctioning according to Thieme.  And I agreed with him--it wasn’t work for Pegi or me.

But, I had no where else to turn.  We were alone in Bulawayo, cut off from other Christians due to the nature of the cult-like culture infused in us by Thieme that proclaimed only him as our “right pastor-teacher.”  Even if I wanted to listen to other teachers, I didn’t know of any.  And if they weren’t the scholars that I believed Thieme to be, how could I respect them?  Those of us at Berachah really believed that there was no one out there who was teaching bible doctrine like Bob Thieme.  But, what did we know of others?  We were totally isolated from any teachers other than Thieme.  I had been listening to Thieme’s taped lessons for more than an hour a day for eight years.  When would I have had time to receive teaching from others?

Maybe it was time for me to reach out to the only other Christian that I knew in that part of Rhodesia--Stan Hannan.  After all, he had been the one who had brought me up to speed on my job as a chaplain and he had recently moved to Bulawayo to become pastor of a Baptist church.  There was no way that I was interested in going to his church--I thought Baptists to just be another dead denomination.  But, Stan was someone I could talk to.  I would have to give him a phone call.

Next:  This Phone May Be Tapped!