Homecoming talk

Closure on Cyrus' mission and sunset on this blog as he is finally able to give his homecoming talk back in the Aylesbury Ward.

Good morning brothers and sisters. Today I've been asked to give a talk about my missionary experience.

I remember now, I did spend lots of time planning this talk as knew I would give one upon returning. I didn't plan to be giving this talk to a camera and I definitely didn't expect to be delivering it just over a year after I left. As we have all come to appreciate in the recent months, the future is full of surprises.

As such, writing and giving this talk are a lot harder than I had anticipated. Being informed that I, alongside all other missionaries serving in central America, would have to return to my country of origin was a very unpleasant surprise. In all honesty, one with which I am still coming to terms. I regret that the memories of my mission are still tainted with the bitterness and resentment that I had to come back at all.

My mission experience was good! That's what my journal says anyway. I'll have to trust it's a credible source. Where to begin though? I feel I could tell countless stories. Starting at the beginning is always wise. I'll talk about the MTC. Or as it was for us, the CCM, for the Centro de Capacitación Misional, México. It was there that I met my first companion, Elder Prisbrey. As I looked back through my journal when writing this, a lot of emotions came flooding back. I loved it there. It was incredible. The very air was permeated with good feeling, and no amount of throat infection, daily thunderstorms or lost games of table football could dampen it. The spirit never leaves. It was a wonderful feeling. I loved everyone I met. I got to visit the Mexico City temple twice, and perform saving ordinances in Spanish. It is a beautiful temple by the way. The design draws heavily from mesoamerican architecture, so it could very well resemble the temples built by the Nephites several thousand years ago. I'm aware that I'm just throwing out thoughts and feelings here, and I apologise my talk is not as well structured as you are perhaps used to. In the CCM I learnt my faith. That's not to say I wasn't faithful before. But it is impossible to teach something without learning it yourself. That principle became very important to us in the field, but I'll probably speak more about that later. The departure from the CCM was very difficult, far more so than it had been to come on the mission in the first place. I am glad Elder Prisbrey had been assigned to Costa Rica West as had I, so that we could go together. Naturally it would have been pointless to stay in the CCM longer. It's purpose was training for the missionary field. Sadly logic does not soothe the hurting heart, and I will tell you that on my first night in Costa Rica, I wept bitterly for what and who I had left behind in Mexico. Now I used to consider myself someone who cried a little more than average. Sad moments in films, tragic news items and powerful yawns could all bring tears to my eyes. But that first night in San Jose, sat at my new desk beside my new companion Elder Amorim, I remembered what it means to cry. To have your body completely overcome by wrenching sobs, and your face involuntarily screwed up in anguish. I remember looking up at the mirrors we had on the wall opposite our desks, and seeing myself almost unrecognisable. With the ill-planned buzzcut I had received at the CCM days prior, and by face red, swollen and bawling, I looked just like a newborn child, wearing a very nice shirt and tie. In my defense I had slept for an hour and a half in the 40 hours leading up to then. Elder Amorim told me that what I needed most was something to eat. He proceeded to cook some tuna and tomato pasta. As he placed it down in front of me he said something along the lines of "You may not like it but it's all there is." Believe me when I say that nothing I have ever eaten tasted better, or was more filling, than that pasta that night. He was right that it was what I needed. Not the pasta specifically, but a simple show of love from my new companion. I don't think I've ever told him that. Perhaps I should. The first week was a difficult one. While I had been by far the most advanced Spanish speaker in my CCM district, having studied it at school for 7 years prior, I still had a lot of experience to gain. I often remarked about how the scriptures always differentiate between the gift of tongues and the gift of the interpretation of tongues. Sometimes you only get one. I found that I could always get what I wanted to say across, but when someone else was talking, I was lucky to get the general theme. That made it very easy to zone out accidentally when we were talking to people, giving me ample time to wallow in my own misery and self pity. However, my first week in Costa Rica also happened to be the week of the October General Conference. Having gone to the stake centre to watch it, after he first session I was allowed to go, with some other missionaries, to watch the second session in the family history room, in English. One of them was Elder Prisbrey, who perchance had been assigned to the very same district. Naturally the talks were excellent, but as is often the case there was one that stood out to me particularly at that time. It was called ' Consistent and Resilient Trust' by L Todd Budge. In it, he said: "In a paradoxical way, afflictions and sorrow prepare us to experience joy if we will trust in the Lord and His plan for us. This truth is beautifully expressed by a 13th-century poet: “Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.” Up until this point I had been shaking myself, beating myself up, asking why I was sad, why I was sorrowful, when I was on my mission. I was out here I had a great companion we had people to teach I was doing the Lord's work, so why was I pining for the CCM, what was effectively the Mission Tutorial? I stopped trying to deny my feelings, or say that they were illogical. If I were not sad to leave the CCM, that would mean I did not enjoy it. The sorrow was what made the experience valuable, and it left my heart ready to accept my mission. My first area was called Pavas (it probably still is) and it is where the majority of my mission took place. Although it has been half a year since I was there, I am sure if you were to take me there now I could guide you around blindfolded. That would be no mean feat, as in my first email home from the field I described the landscape of San Jose being composed of "pavement, loose rubble, mud, plant life, razor wire, rubbish, large unexplained holes, dog residue, and water." My area Pavas also had the reputation of being one of the most dangerous places in the mission, as the gentleman who robbed us in November so kindly demonstrated. When I was eventually transferred away, the new locals would apologise for my misfortune when I told them that my first area had been Pavas, and could not understand why I loved it.

To put it simply you love the people you serve. When you are always serving others, you are always feeling that love. And when you love another, that is when you feel the love of our Saviour.

In Pavas we worked heavily with less active members. Some were recently baptised members who perhaps had withdrawn when the missionaries had left, others long time members who had fallen away for other reasons. Our method of working with them was the same. It may be a very common missionary tactic, but let me tell you the wonders of Asking for References. You see, sometimes, when you visit someone, who hasn't been going to church, and they know they should, they can be a bit uncomfortable. They think you're going to pressure them, or guilt trip them. Not usually. No, the strategy is to first compliment them on their great faith and testimony, and ask them if they can think of anyone they know who would also benefit from such faith, or a missionary message. Eager to turn attention away from themselves, they would often gladly present many friends or relatives who we could visit. But we would always try to teach or share in the house of the member, or bring them along with us if possible. In helping us share the message of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ, they would remember their own testimony, and have a desire to return as they watched it work in the lives of their friends. Naturally my journal had not reached its full capacity for tear-stained pages, and after three transfers with Elder Amorim, I was left to direct the area with his replacement, Elder Bento. Once again I rembered what it means to truly cry. There is nothing quite like a mission, and the emotions involved are so powerful. Despite having had three transfers in the area, I still felt overwhelmed with responsibility when it was my turn to direct it. I feel it worth mentioning that both Elders Amorim and Bento are Brazilian, and though they spoke excellent Spanish, neither spoke any English. They were both excellent companions in different ways, Elder Amorim was an excellent trainer, being very good at planning and leadership, he's a natural people person and always knew how to respond to any situation. Elder Bento quickly stepped up to the place he had left, very quickly taking the burden from my shoulders. He provided a fresh perspective on the area, earned his place in the hearts of everyone who missed Elder Amorim as much as I did, and reminded me how to have fun. Both were incredible missionaries, spiritual giants and true friends. I was determined to be like them. My mission President, Presidente Valim, also happens to be Brazilian. I can not put into words the respect I have for him, but of of the many reasons is for the patience he must have. Even just with me. Almost every interview I had something to worry about. My first exchange away from my area, my first exchange in my area, and finally the lead up to Elder Amorim's departure. The mission is full of responsibility, and some people are better suited to carrying it than me, I feel. Presidente Valim's counsel was always the same. That I could do it. And every time I overcame one challenge, he would say "See how worried you were?" Now you did it. And the next time something came along he would tell the same and I would say "Oh no Presidente this one I different, I can not do it!" And then I'd do it. He was always right. The missionary purpose is something all missionaries are required to learn. I learnt it in Spanish so you'll forgive me for having it written down here. "My missionary purpose is to invite others to come unto Christ by helping them receive the restored gospel through faith in Jesus Christ and his atonement, repentance, baptism, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost and enduring to the end." I like to think that I gained a greater understanding of all of those things while I was serving as a full time missionary. Most noticeably repentance. The scriptures instruct us to "Cry repentance," unto the world. At first this scared me. Who am I to tell others to repent? I thought. For me repentance was like a punishment for a bad thing. The opportunity to repent is always a blessing and a privilege, and without it we would be doomed.

Repentance is aligning our life with the will of the Lord. That's not a one time thing, any more than you could drive from here to London only turning the steering wheel once. But what cast the idea of repentance into greater understanding for me, was our experience with a man called Julio. Julio is every missionary's dream. Though dubious at first to receive our message, he quickly gained a testimony of its truth and worth. We felt his love for the Saviour, and for his family. He told us explicitely how he could feel the spirit when he was reading the book of Mormon. Now if you've ever had the missionaries over you'll know that they love to give commitments. The fact is that everyone is progressing on the path of righteousness, and everyone, you me and Julio, need goals and effort to move along. What we loved about Julio, however, was how ready he was for them. We could genuinely feel his desire to change, almost that he had been waiting for something like this to come into his life. I will not forget as we were halfway through teaching about the law of the fast when he asked when he was supposed to fast. We told him that it's only a commandment for baptised members, but that it is done on the first Sunday of every month and he would be welcome to join us. And he did. I remember when we taught him the word of wisdom we didn't need to voice the commitment, he already knew what he had to do and was prepared to stop drinking coffee. And he did. This, brothers and sisters, is repentance. It did not involve tears, heartache, misery and suffering. I'm not suggesting that it was easy for Julio, but it was not negative. Julio believed in the scriptures, and knew for himself what he needed to do. He wanted to align his life with the will of the Lord's. Julio had to move to Nicaragua shortly before we were planning to baptise him. Though we were able to give his reference to his local mission, I have no knowledge of how he is doing. However, I have faith that his efforts did not go unnoticed, that his faith continues, and that we will meet again in eternity. I will be forever grateful for the lessons that Julio, and countless other individuals, have taught me, without even realising. In mid-March I was finally transferred from my starting area Pavas to the town of Santa Barbara, halfway up a mountain overlooking the capital city San Jose. At daytime I could pick out the landmarks of Pavas even at such a distance. My companion here was Elder Muñoz, from Panama. It was an area we shared with two sisters, and we had a distinctly nicer house than I had left behind in Pavas. It even had all of its windows. I was very ready to step up. I had been inspired by my previous companions, and freed from my 'starting area' as it would always be, and was eager to start. Only three days later, however, we received the notice that, in light of the new Covid 19, we were not to leave the house unless we needed to, and were also instructed to buy enough food in case we couldn't leave at all. This is not quite how I had expected the mission to go. It did not get better. Just over a week from the initial news about the quarantine, we were informed by Presidente Valim that all foreign missionaries would be repatriated. I confess I broke all my previous records of heartwrenching and sustained weeping the night I told my parents over video call. And then I was home. I spent some time as a missionary at home, some time released. I was recalled for a month to the Eastbourne Ward of England London mission. There I had two companions, Elder Poli and Elder Garre, who I recall were very patient with me, far more so than they were with each other. Though I was not the companion they deserved, they treated me with love and respect regardless. So this morning, as I put on my suit that bore the Costa Rican sun, tied up the shoes that walked the streets of Pavas and brushed my teeth with the spare toothbrush that Elder Shaw game me when I forgot mine on exchanges, I was wonderig how much my mission had changed me. It's always easier to see the change in others than it is in yourself, so I'm afraid I can't give many specific answers, but I know that the experiences I have had in the last year and 10 days have taught me more about the love of God than I could ever put into words. Instead I'll opt for Paul's testimony. He said "For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. This scripture was sent to me by my friend Ari during our weekly scripture exchange while I was serving in Costa Rica. It was a joy to watch her baptism on the 5th of February, via video call. I am grateful for the opportunity I have had in preparation for this talk to relive and remember the thoughts and feelings I had as I served. A phrase that we heard often in Costa Rica was 'Si Dios quiere' which means 'if God wants'. It's a uniquely frustrating thing to hear when you are trying to get a straight answer out of someone. "Can you come to church this Sunday?" "Si Dios quiere, if God wants," (God does want it!) It frustrating because it's true. If something happens, it's because God wants. So here's my advice for those of you who are preparing for or considering becoming a missionary. You will serve the mission that God wants you to. You don't get to plan. You don't get to choose. Obviously it requires your effort, just as someone who tells us they will come to church 'si Dios quiere' will not actually make it to church without some effort they put in themselves. But you will serve the mission that God wants. You may not feel fit for that. You probably aren't. That's understandable, most missionaries aren't. Luckily nobody has greater capacity to change the hearts of men than the God that made them. It won't be comfortable. The refiner's fire is not a comfortable place to be. But I can testify that the greatest joys that this life has to offer come through the serving of others, with all your might, mind and strength. Amen.