A message From Grandma

Bill,

That was EXACTLY why my mother wanted me to stop going. In fact, when I first talked with my parents about my interest in the church, my mother came right out and said she felt they were a cult.

I believe the church fits the definition. Especially since it dictates your lifestyle right down to what you eat and wear.

I am glad my mother put her foot down.At the time, I was pretty pissed off about it, but I think in the back of my mind I knew she was right. That's most likely why I didn't fight her on it too hard.

It's probably my prejudice showing, but I honestly consider the Mormon Church to be little more than a cult.

That's pretty funny.

When I was young, and naive, I joined the Mormon church. I honestly joined because I was hot for a Mormon girl, and I mistakenly thought if I joined she would go out with me. Whata dummy.

Anyway, I am quite familiar with how the Missionaries work. One day, while walking the dogs around the grounds of the condominium complex where we used to live, I was approached by two Missionaries how were cruising for converts. They started off with the classic line, "Do you know about Jesus Christ?", or some such fiddle-faddle, and I replied that Yes, I of course had heard of him, and I knew who they were as well. I then regaled them with tales of my youth as a convert that followed all the rules, and was even fast-tracked into the priesthood. (Mormons have a lay-clergy system. Young boys are indoctrinated rather early as deacons, then teachers, and finally priests. When you are Missionary age, I think 18, you then move out of the "Aaronic", or lesser priesthood and into th the "Melchezedec" or greater priesthood.)

I told them the great tale how I used to be the model Mormon priest, and served communion at the Stake Center every Sunday, and volunteered to give talks during Sunday meetings before the entire Ward. I told them how I was the Bishop's darling, and how I once even traveled to the Los Angeles Mormon Temple, and took part in Baptisms for the Dead. Mormons feel that from the time of Christ until Joseph Smith there was no true church on earth, and so everyone who lived in between those two eras had no chance to learn about the true church. They figure their spirits have no heard about the church, and so those spirits need to be baptized into the Mormon faith. Those spirits need bodies to be baptized in, though, so the church uses their youth to provide those bodies. They go to the temple, and are baptized in the name of the dead that are on a list that the church somehow put together. Supposedly, the spirit of the dead person possesses your body while you are physically baptized in their name. Then, you move on to another are where a priests performs the laying-on-of-the-hands routine. It's sort of like an assembly line of conversion, only for dead people. I was baptized 76 times in a row in super-chlorinated water in a baptismal font that was sitting on the backs of twelve bronze oxen. It was quite the experience.

I finished up my story by telling the missionaries that I eventually was forbidden by my mother from continuing any further participation in any church activities. I can't remember why my mom became so adamant about it; she never did like my going, and refused to attend my own baptism into the church. I understand now why she didn't like it. Especially since I attended some church function every day except Saturday.

What really caught the attention of these two nice young men was that I was finally excommunicated from the church by the bishop who once was so impressed by the way I conducted myself in the church. The problem was, he ran a pharmacy just around the corner from where I lived a few years later. I was about twenty years old, and had moved into an apartment with the mother of a friend of mine. I used to walk over to the liquor store next door to the bishop's pharmacy, and he no doubt saw me buy beer and cigarettes on more than one occasion.

It was while I lived there that a friend of mine in the church got married, and he invited me to his wedding. For some reason he didn't get married in the temple, which only church members who have their "temple recommends" are allowed into. With the exception of the baptisms of the dead thing that I spoke of earlier. My friend was married at the stake center where I used to attend, and after the service, I had a smoke out on the patio near the church entrance. The bishop saw me, and got very, very close to me, and with his face as red as a lobster, asked me if I would be returning to the church now that I was legally able to. I said I wanted to think about it a little longer, and he asked if I would like to have my name, "taken off the books", which is Mormonese for excommunicating my apostate ass.

I again told the bishop I wanted to think about it for a while, and then beat a hasty retreat. I heard later that he instigated proceedings against me, and that I was excommunicated. The missionaries, with their jaws still hanging opened, asked if I wanted to have my status checked out. They offered to check into it and let me know. I WAS interested, so I said sure. I asked that they give me a number where I could reach them, and that I would give them a call in a week or so, and see what they found out. They said they couldn't give me a number, but that if I told them where I lived, or gave them MY number, they would be happy to contact me.

I swear to GOD the first thought in my mind was, "Mormon Mafia".

I politely declined, and told them I must get along with my walk. They pushed it a little further, but wouldn't ever agree to meet me under my terms, and without knowing where I lived, so I told them I would just go with the assumption that I was excommunicated, and leave it at that.

All in all, I found the whole experience to be very creepy.

Great clip! The movie, Orgazmo, is pretty much as good as that scene. :-D

LOVE. IT. (And I'm going to steal it, thanks.)