I think it was LeGrand Richards who told how the English government was puzzled by the Mormons in that country. They seemed like strange creatures. They preached their gospel without being paid. They even gave their means to the Church, far more than others deposited in collection plates. They responded to calls and devoted untold hours. What was their secret?
As the story goes, the government sent an official all the way to Utah to find the answer. He spent time among the Saints, spoke to many people, and returned with the answer. The “black secret” of the Mormons, he reported, was the individual testimony of its members.
How the anti-Mormons hate this feature! One can almost see the gnashing of their teeth. In a world of relativism where it is considered “judgmental” to have strong convictions, testimonies must seem strangely out of place. But I rather think that Peter or James or John would be entirely comfortable with the testimony of Latter-day Saints.
In 1853, apostle Ezra Taft Benson spoke about missionaries. Others had said missionaries should qualify themselves by reading. They should be familiar with the scriptures and other works as well. All of this is well and good, said Elder Benson, but if a missionary could have only a single qualification, “I want to have the testimony of Jesus, which will pierce them like a cannon ball. It made me feel so.”
What was he saying? It wasn't the eloquence of Mormon preachers that persuaded him. He was not convinced by some long series of arguments. What hit him where he lived was the simple testimony of the elders. That individual witness set up reverberations in his mind, heart, and spirit that led to further investigation and then the acquisition of his own testimony.
A few days later, Brigham Young said something about the gospel worthy of reflection. “Men uninspired of God cannot by their worldly wisdom disprove it, or prevail against it” — so far, so good. But Brother Brigham continued:
Those who have testimonies of the truth of the restored gospel agree, I think, that their conviction is an answer to prayer, a blessing from God. They cannot transfer it, but others can acquire the same conviction. At least that is how I understand what the prophets and apostles have been saying from 1830 to the present, and all of us are familiar with this process as we hear individual statements in fast and testimony meetings.
Strength of Testimony
Let me take you back a few years to the 1960s in Tonga. A young Latter-day Saint girl named Fa'aki Kihelotu' Alatini attended school in Vaini. It was a time of drought and famine. U.S. aid had been sent. Its distribution was turned over to different churches on a rotating basis. On this particular day, the LDS Church was preparing food to be distributed to the students at lunchtime. They worked in a field outside the school. Music was playing on the radio, and a young woman was dancing.
The teacher looked out the window. “Look at those cockroaches,” he said with disgust. He asked the class if they knew about Joseph Smith. Joseph had stolen a bag of gold, for which he was shot and killed, said the teacher, who then told the youngsters that Brigham Young took other men's wives.
At this point, he said, “Fa'aki, come to the front. Tell the class what I just said is true.” He obviously knew she was a Latter-day Saint. As the thirteen-year-old girl went to the front of the room, a boy taunted, “And tell us about your temples.” Just then the principal walked into the room. Instead of disapproving of this treatment of a student, he said that he too would like to know about Joseph Smith stealing the bag of gold.
The trembling girl stood there, not knowing what to say. She felt the humiliation being heaped on her. Then, according to her account, the Spirit told her, “Fa'aki, tell them the truth of what you know instead of what they want to hear.”
Through her tears, she testified that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. “I testify to you that the Book of Mormon is true,” she added. “It is a second witness to the Bible.”
The teacher was angry. Red-faced, he grabbled a heavy ruler and hit Fa'aki on the back. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” he shouted. The ruler broke, but the teacher used a piece of it and struck her again. Grabbing her hair, he was about to strike her a third time.
The principal jumped up and said, “Stop it, you fool!” He raised the girl from the floor and asked if she was all right. Her entire body was shaking. He helped her back to her seat and then escorted the teacher from the room.
When Fa'aki went home and told her father, he said he would go to the school and tell the teacher to hit him too. “I will tell him the same thing you told him.” “No, Father,” Fa'aki answered. “I think I already told him enough.”
Many years later, married and living in Arizona, she attended a Tongan Ward in Mesa. A gentleman approached her and asked, “Do you remember me, Fa'aki?” It was her school principal of those years long ago. He told her that her testimony that day had prompted him to investigate. He had joined the Church and was now a sealer in the Tonga Temple.
How many similar experiences have there been from the beginning of the restoration to the present? Such feelings and such words are ignored by historians. But they are part of the reality of the gospel as it goes forth in the earth.
Giving voice to a testimony need not be confrontational. One of my favorite people joined the Church many years ago in England. Recently he told me about his initial reading of the Book of Mormon. Not long afterward he and his wife were baptized. “What was I supposed to do?” he said, smiling and raising his hands palms up in a familiar gesture. “I knew it was true.”
References. LeGrand Richards, Conference Reports (April 1948), 43; Ezra T. Benson, 16 February 1853, Journal of Discourses 2:353; Brigham Young, 20 February 1853, Journal of Discourses 1:310; Ella Mae Judd, From Tonga to Zion: The Story of Fa'aki Kihelotu' Alatani Richter (privately published, 1991).