Missionaries sacrifice to spread church’s word

Stacy J. Willis

Wednesday, Oct. 7, 1998 | 11:14 a.m.

They are 22 years old, tender-faced, immaculately dressed. They smile readily. Giggle often. Even make jokes about the wind blowing their skirts up.

They walk from door to door in suburban Las Vegas, grinning at peep holes, clutching their Books of Mormon. Many residents do not answer their doors. One man sees the two women coming up the sidewalk as he's getting his mail, then scurries inside before they have a chance to greet him.

Finally, the rattle of locks unlatching causes the missionaries to exchange a glance. In seconds, they will begin wielding a memorized missionary script like nimble sales veterans. They will lead a dialogue that starts with any religion the door-opener mentions and ends with Joseph Smith, founding prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They are well-trained. Suddenly savvy.

And yet, sincere.

"I love to share what I know is truth with other people," says Dianne Young, a missionary from Tulsa, Okla. "I love being a part of seeing people's lives change. I love that."

She is sporting a nametag and barrettes and knee-highs and people are afraid of her. Were she selling Girl Scout cookies, there might have been mass flinging open of doors. But the Mormons are coming to the door to talk about God. It makes residents shush their dogs and mute their TVs and lie still on the couch until the missionaries move on.

"There are two reasons we proselytize," said Robert McKee, Nevada Mission President, who oversees half of the roughly 250 Las Vegas Mormon missionaries. "One is because the Saviour asked us to do it in (the Book of) Matthew.

"Second, once you embrace this lifestyle -- and it is a lifestyle -- there is a happiness, a peace, a surety, a comfort in spite of all that's going on in the world around you, and there is a genuine feeling that you want to share it."

In his office, on a wall behind a crisp white curtain, are hundreds of snapshots of smiling missionaries currently combing the streets of Las Vegas. They are attached to color-coded index cards: blue for men, yellow for women, green for couples, and pink for Spanish-speaking missionaries.

"Obviously, our faith has to be very strong, because not everyone would pack up and move away to serve like this," McKee said. "It comes to us as a privilege to serve."

The Mormon "lifestyle" is perhaps best known as membership in a clean-cut, disciplined, civic-minded community, in which the faithful do not drink alcohol, coffee or tea, and contribute 10 percent of their earnings to the Church.

While on their missions, Mormons do not date. For 18 to 24 months, missionaries also forego all forms of secular entertainment, including books, TV and movies. They are allowed only two telephone calls per year to their parents. If they need guidance, they call the mission president, to whom they write letters every week.

Despite living a few miles away from an international vacation spot, Young and her mission companion Sharon Kimmins, of British Columbia, Canada, have never set foot on the Las Vegas Strip.

Instead, each day at 7 a.m., they can be found kneeling on the living room floor of their apartment -- arms folded across their chests, eyes closed. They are asking God, aloud, to tell them where to spread their message today.

"We pray about everything," Kimmins said. "We pray a lot more than normal people."

Their apartment, which was selected by the church, is austere-- a couch, a shelf full of church brochures, a piece of posterboard showing the handwritten names of potential converts in the neighborhood. Jesus, painted in a watercolor picture, is perched in the window facing outside -- for the benefit of passersby.

After prayer, there is companionship study. They pull out plastic-coated flash cards containing lists of doctrinal topics and spend an hour quizzing each other.

"I always wanted to go on a mission," Young said. "You get to learn so much about people and about yourself. Mostly I wanted to go overseas. But when I got the call to Las Vegas, I knew that's where I needed to be."

(SUBHEAD: An Invitation )

Contrary to the apprehension of many a door-opener, Young said, a missionary does not try to "convince" anyone to become a Mormon. Instead, they "invite people to read the Book of Mormon and pray about it."

By mid-afternoon, she and Kimmins are sitting on a plush sectional sofa in a suburban Las Vegas home exploring that nuance: assiduously inviting a woman to think about Mormon theology.

But Hermin McLean, a former member of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, is unsure about the first precept of Mormonism -- that prophet Joseph Smith had a divine encounter in the New York woods in 1820. Accordingly, Mormons believe the Book of Mormon is a sequel to the Bible, revealed to Smith.

"Joseph Smith actually got a chance to speak to God and Jesus Christ direct?" McLean asked them.

"Yes, he did," Kimmins said.

"He saw them just like I'm seeing you?"

"They spoke to him, like I'm speaking to you," Young said.

McLean leaned forward on the couch and squinted.

"And that happened in 1820?"

"Yes. He talked with them and learned from first-hand experience," Kimmins said.

McLean leaned back and thought for a moment.

"I want to be frank with you," she said. "This I'm hearing is the first of Joseph Smith I've heard. I want to be frank with you right now -- I have not fully accepted Joseph Smith as a prophet. I'm reading the Book of Mormon, but I have not fully accepted it."

"That's OK, that's wonderful -- because that's where it starts, and we want you to know for yourself," Young said.

"I knew the Book of Mormon was true when I was 14 because I prayed about it. So I knew Joseph Smith had to be a prophet. As I prayed, I can't describe the feeling that came over me -- I started crying. I knew that was my answer. It happens differently for different people, and it will happen to you."

Kimmins agreed: "That's the first big step -- when you get down and pray, to ask, and you get an overwhelming peaceful feeling. It can happen to anybody, but they have to really want it and be willing to do whatever it takes to receive it."

Young continued: "Then there's nothing that can take the place of that truth. You realize the joy and happiness that it brings. Everybody longs for truth."

McClean has not yet been officially baptized into the church.

(SUBHEAD: Divided by gender)

Fewer than a third of the 57,000 Mormon missionaries worldwide are female. In Clark County, about 15 percent are women. Unlike the men, they serve only 18 months instead of 24. Women are eligible to begin their missions when they are 22; men begin when they are 18.

"A lot of girls want to go on a mission, but then they get married before it's time to go, so they never go," Kimmins said.

Both she and Young are single, but plan to marry and have families. Mormons believe they are sealed to their families for the afterlife.

Every Mormon has an unpaid church position, and many jobs are gender-specific. The priesthood is reserved for males.

"My personal opinion is that people think that because they don't see women with leadership positions that (the Church) is bad for women," Young said. "But (Church) President (Gordon) Hinckley always says that the priesthood can't do anything without the women by their side. The wives have to consent. The wives are actively involved, but just don't have the title.

"It's how God set everything up in the beginning with Adam and Eve," Young said. "He gave Adam certain roles, and Eve certain roles."

Kimmins said that she has no misgivings about not being allowed into the priesthood.

"It's a great blessing to have the priesthood, but women don't need it because we have our own natural abilities," she said.

Such abilities, Young said, including caring for children, teaching and being "more friendly," give the women a certain advantage over their male counterparts in evangelizing.

"I think we are just better-received than the guys, because we are women," she said.

(SUBHEAD: Newly converted)

Steve Walles is smiling so broadly he can barely sing the hymn. Young and Kimmins are harmonizing with him in his living room. He is strumming a guitar.

Walles is blind. He became blind a couple of decades ago, after being run over by a garbage truck when he was a small child, Kimmins said. He has met with the pair before, invited them back, and agreed to be baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Inside of a few weeks, he has read the entire Book of Mormon in braille -- which was provided to him by the Church.

As they sing, pray, and take turns reading aloud from the Book of Mormon, another family member arrives home, sees the missionaries and darts up the stairs -- head bowed -- without greeting anyone.

Had that relative stayed, this is the conversation he would have heard:

(OFFSET:)

Young: What did you think about that chapter?

Walles: It kind of gives you a road map to prayer, says you have to have the right intentions, no selfish intentions.

Young: Sometimes when we pray, we might think of what we want, not what our Heavenly Father wants for us.

Walles: I've definitely been guilty of that.

Young: As we learn to accept God's love and share it with others, we will become pure, just as Jesus Christ is. We'll be able to see him. It's awesome. You too, Steve -- you'll be able to (itals:) see (end itals) him.

Walles: It's important to be like him so we can be with him and because it feels really good. I know it's a little selfish to want to feel good.

Young: It's not selfish to want to feel good.

(END OFFSET)

Before leaving, the missionaries hug Walles, and remind him of his baptism date.

He thanks them three times for coming.

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