Andrew Glazer
They spend most of their time cruising Costa Mesa streets in a long sedan
like many suburban teenagers.
But inside their car is silence--no "Thong Song" or Dr. Dre booming from
the speakers, no unnecessary chatter.
And unlike weekend cruisers--out to waste time, pick up girls and see the
scenery--these two young men have a mission.
"Our job is to invite people to hear the gospel," said Benjamin
Wilkinson, 20, who is from a small town outside Minneapolis.
He and his partner, Ed Bryan, 20, from Boise are amid a two-year
commitment to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, during
which they will knock on doors, lead at-home blessings and study the Book
of Mormon for several hours each morning.
This commitment involves cutting off all ties to the world outside the
Mormon Church.
"No movies, TV, radio or newspapers," said Bryan, a thick-necked high
school football star in his life before the mission. "The only music we
can listen to are hymns or classical. No dates or girls. We can only call
our families twice a year. And every half-hour of every day is planned
out."
Both elders, as missionaries are known in the Mormon Church, said they
don't miss knowing what's going on outside their sight lines. They said
losing touch with news, family and friends brings them closer to God and
helps them learn about themselves.
"This mission is something you anticipate your whole life," said
Wilkinson, whose lanky build and boyish face make him the Laurel to
Bryan's Hardy. "You don't start anything serious in your life until
you're finished. This is your big opportunity to give back to the Lord."
The two said their biggest challenge was to swoop into a city where
Mormons are the minority--both come from areas with heavy Mormon
populations--and knock on the doors of households where only Spanish is
spoken.
While neither Wilkinson nor Bryan spoke the language before they began
their missions, the church designated them as Spanish-speaking
missionaries. They were required to take elementary language lessons
before diving into neighborhoods that mainly consist of recent Latin
American immigrants.
"People were inviting us to have dinner at their homes, but I wasn't used
to the chili peppers," Wilkinson said. "I threw up eight times in my
first eight weeks."
But a year later, they have adapted more, sometimes a bit awkwardly, to
their surroundings.
They approach a door and knock. A man, speaking only Spanish, answers and
squints at the two, who are dressed in white button-down shirts, black
