Home > Mormonism > The Mormons wouldn’t let me in.

The Mormons wouldn’t let me in.

It is with deep sorrow that I announce my exclusion from the Mormon inner-circle in Northern New Jersey.

OK, let’s start from the beginning. As a devoted collector of religious texts, I naturally applied for my free copy of the Book of Mormon earlier this year. My first encounter with Mormons was thus a positive one — the Bible arrived promptly and without any unsolicited  fanfare. 

Then the phone started ringing. Every day. And after awhile, that provisional burst excitement you get when an unrecognized number pops up on your display screen subsides when its becomes clear that all the calls are originating from an area code in Salt Lake City. 

The person on the other end of the line was always a teenage-sounding male who wanted to know if I had received my Bible, even though I told them yesterday that I had. And yes, I’d assure him, I was planning on reading it as soon as I found the time. Did I have any questions? No, not at the moment. 

I can just imagine him sitting there at a call center cubicle, votively reciting a script that had itself become a sort of sacred verse. Here’s what you do if the target says they are busy. Here’s what you do if they’re in a bad mood. You must engage. You must dig deep.

I usually let him dig. They’d ask what reservations I had about the Mormon church, and we’d get into its funding of Proposition 8 in California. Inevitably the conversation would veer toward the nature of theistic dogmatism itself, beyond (what I thought to be) the absurdities of Mormonism in particular. I was glad to defend my theory on the lack of a universal moral standard, or the illogical multiplicity of world religions, and end up an hour later without much ground covered. I suppose it takes a certain kind of person to enjoy engaging a stranger over the phone about this kind of thing (and to blog about it, no less!). 

The phone kept ringing, and eventually I got the feeling that they were required to call no matter what my response was the previous day about reading my Bible. I accepted their offer of a DVD (entitled “The Restoration” — surprisingly good production value!) and said if I had any questions, I would call them back. But they persisted. 

In order to put an end to this madness, I had to step up to the plate. Missionaries would have to visit me at home. 

At first, I was going to pull a practical joke on my mother and have them arrive asking for a “Judy,” much to her surprise. But I had come this far, and needed to take responsibility for my prolonged contact with the LDS soldiers. The doorbell rang, and two 20-year old guys from Utah were standing in front of me; they introduced themselves as Elder Wilcox and Elder Marble. 

To be continued…

Categories: Mormonism
  1. September 7, 2009 at 2:16 am

    Wow! Its imposible… I’m realy shocked :/

  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: