A Visiting Stranger...

The following is pasted directly from my blog on MySpace. I am trying to consolidate my blogs.


Yesterday I was home alone while my family went to the mall. The idea was that I was supposed to be working on my homework. Since I had been out at the club until 4:30 am and only got a few hours sleep, I quickly fell asleep. (Who wouldn't fall asleep while trying to read a textbook on International Business?)

I must have been in a deep sleep because I was awoken to the sound of the doorbell. Stumbling clumsily to the door, I peered through the peephole but had no clue who was there (I could only tell that she was a woman). I was still groggy and wasn't wearing my glasses so everything was a blur. The only blur I could make out was the silhouette of a dark SUV (it seemed as large as a Chevy Suburban).

I remembered I had casually committed to returning to the Church of Scientology to buy books (a small white lie). I was confused as to how they could find me and tried to recall if I had given out my address. I didn't panic and I wasn't scared but I certainly wasn't in the mood to talk to any creepy Scientologists. So, I quietly returned to my nap and she eventually went away.

Having forgotten about the whole incident, I didn't even think to mention it to my wife. But this afternoon, the doorbell rang again. My son peeked through the blinds and announced that it was just my wife's friend, "Lana". So, I confidently flung the door open to see the same unknown lady with her black Suburban...

She politely asked a few questions to determine if she had the correct residence. She did. But she wasn't looking for me; she was looking for my wife. And she wasn't from the Church of Scientology; she was from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

She is what the Mormons call a visiting teacher and she had tracked down my wife. She wanted to let us know that the "church" was available if we needed anything. She also said "We haven't seen your wife for a while and wanted to see if she was still here." The funny thing is that the last time my wife went to church was 13 years ago and it was in Colorado. I had half a mind to tell this lady that but I didn't.

I also had the urge to invite her in for a theological discussion but I didn't. She wasn't a missionary and she looked uncomfortable and I know my wife was uncomfortable. My wife witnessed the whole exchange hiding around the corner and she was upset that I flung the door open (potentially exposing her). She was also bewildered at how the "church" keeps tracking her down. Every time we change addresses they eventually find her (not me, just her). This time it took almost two years to the day but they are persistent.

I should have known better than to assume the Scientoiogists would even bother to find me. Now the Mormons, on the other hand, they can track you like a bloodhound on the trail...

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints- Galveston 1st Ward

The following is pasted directly from my blog on MySpace. I am trying to consolidate my blogs.

After more than twelve years of personal apostasy, I attended services at my local mormon ward (here in Chandler). It was actually Sally who asked to go. I think I inspired her to try new things because she was eager to see what mormon church was like. Anyhow, on February 17th we attended an LDS church. We didn't go to church the week before because we tried to go to the mormon church but got lost.

We took the wimp clause and only attended the first hour of the three hour services. Mormons divide their meetings into three one-hour blocks. The first is sacrament meeting, the second is Sunday school and the third is for priesthood (men) and the relief society (women) which meets separately.

Sally was surprised at how small the chapel was. That and the fact that we didn't adhere to the mormon dress code made us stand out as obvious outsiders. I was cool with it but Sally was very nervous. An usher met us at the door and was asking us the nature of our visit (in a friendly but nosy way). Sally caved under pressure and blurted out that I was a mormon.

I responded that I was actually not a mormon and Sally made sure the usher knew that my parents still were part of the church. I guess she thought we were going to get in trouble for "crashing" their church. I wasn't happy with her because I would prefer that my former affiliation with mormons remain undisclosed.

The services soon started and I was reminded of something I had forgotten about mormons; they suck at singing church hymns. It actually felt like torture to hear the straining, apathetic voices sing in a droning unison. A quick look at the program confirmed my fear that we would be singing three other songs throughout the services. To make matters worse, this congregation decided to sing all the verses of every song while the ward of my youth only sang the first verse.

After singing, the bishop conducted some administrative business. A young man was going to be given the priesthood but needed the vote of the congregation first. I had forgotten about those ward votes and it felt like such an eerie thing. Although, it is funny because it seems to diminish the divinity of the appointment.

The distribution of the sacrament went without a hitch. Sally again was nervous but I just instructed her to signal the deacon that we were declining the sacrament tray and he went away. Sally commented how weird it was that there was no music. I hadn't thought about it but (now that I have been to a couple of other churches) I realized how unnatural and un-spiritual this was.

Finally, we were going to hear the sermons (or as the mormon call them, "talks"). There were three speakers from the congregation (as sermons are not given by clergy); a young woman, an older woman, and an even older man.

The young lady spoke about some conference she had attended and how much she was inspired by the church leaders at that conference. The next lady spoke about how we could better know God. She gave some bogus example of being asked by the bishop to have a personal meeting with God at the temple. In this example, you would be able to speak with Him and even hold Him in your arms.

After those first two speakers we caught a break because instead of another boring congregational hymn, there was a program change that a woman would sing a special song for us. I don't remember the song but I remember not being tortured by our untrained voices. During this time, I pondered about the third speaker.

The first two had been found wanting and I assumed they would at least end the service with a strong, experienced speaker. I was wrong. This guy was the worst, as he was very nervous. His topic was the Holy Ghost and he rambled past our scheduled closing time. The rambling seemed to be solely from nervousness and did not help to clarify my understanding of the subject.

It was strange that all three speakers cried during their talks. This is common at mormon services and seems to be a validation for the speaker's "sincerity. The crux of believing the truth of mormonism comes not from reason and study but from emotions and a "burning in the bosom". I figure this explains why mormons have evolved to be overly emotional at the podium. It is almost used as proof of the truth of their words.

After the closing hymn (gag) and the benediction, the meeting was over ten minutes past schedule. There was an awkward moment when Sally just sat there. Not being raised mormon; she didn't understand the urgency that is necessary to leave the meeting.

If we sat there longer, the usher would likely return to escort us to the investigator's class (for potential converts) and my stomach was already growling. I didn't want to overtly yell "Run for your life!" so I calmly said "I suggest that we go now." We left and returned to my house where we discussed the service and rehashed the experience.