My take on Mormons

As far as I'm concerned, Mormons are the second most-misunderstood religious group, after the Jews.

Mormons are no different than you or me. They walk like us, they talk like us (at times they even look alike . . . you could lose your mind . . . when Mormons are two of a kind!) Will you PLEASE BE QUIET WHILE I TRY TO EXPLAIN MYSELF??? Now, as I was saying, they're entirely human, like you or me, except they have a rather (to me) different belief system. As I understand it, America got a visit from Joshua, the son of Joseph. Then, 1800 years later, Joseph Smith found some golden plates in upstate New York (but these weren't in New Yawk City, mon, so could they be any good? I mean, eh, was dey real gold??) WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT UP, PARA?? DANGED MUSES! I digress:

As I understand it, some time later, a group of people who believed that these golden plates were divinely written or inspired, after a whole bunch of persecution (and believe you me, I know from persecution!) left upstate New York and traveled to Utah, where they ended up settling, in what is now Salt Lake City. For about 150 years, this group grew and grew and grew and grew. They were fruitful, and multiplied just like tribbles!. But again, thanks to Paranomasia, the muse of pad buns (um, that's bad puns!, filk), I digress:

It's just that my initial impressions of Mormons told me that they're staid, stiff and stodgy. For instance, I remember one time I was going job hunting in Utah and flew there from Los Angeles. Nearly everyone who was on the plane was Mormon (save me, of course) and every one of them, and I'm NOT KIDDING, had this sort of "blank stare into space" look. I didn't know what to think! Not a smile on the plane, save for me. You'd think they'd all been hypnotized.

In addition, on my first trip to Utah for Life, the Universe and Everything, I was asked to talk to a class which was studying the Jewish Bible as literature. The book being studied was Esther (since we were so close to Purim). The instructor (who knew I was Jewish) asked me to explain what goes on at a Purim celebration. Well, I started by explaining that Purim was a minor holiday, compared to Rosh Hashanah, for instance, but according to Jewish law, we're supposed to get so drunk that we can't tell the difference between "blessed be evil" and "cursed be good" (my words). I stopped for a second to catch my breath and found 33 sets of eyes staring blankly into space, with two people holding in their laughter: the person who invited me to speak and the instructor.

One thing the Mormons do well is send out their young into the world to try to spread the good word as they see it (Caveat: remember, I'm trying not to be judgmental. This is how I see them). The youngsters are sent on missions (which I call hejira - sounds more exotic - it's the Arabic term for a mission) for a period of 2 years (for males, 18 months for females), spreading their version of G-D's word to the unhuddled masses. Most of the time you'll see the boys wearing white shirts, dark pants, a tie and a nametag the size of Montana, riding on bicycles (maybe that's why they're good at running from you!), although I have seen them pile 5 people into an OLD OLD OLD Chevrolet Chevette (but now some are using Cavaliers - is that an indication in change of attitude?). They always seem to have very short hair and a semi-smile (although I was under the impression that they're not supposed to smile at all - after all, prosletyzing is a serious business). I will admit, I've only seen one female on hejira. I don't remember what she was wearing, so I don't explain here.

The young missionaries also do not expect anyone to be friendly towards them. And then there's me. I'm the leader of the Friendlies. I smile at them. I say Hello, how are you? to them. And then, LOOK OUT! YOU ARE IN TROUBLE!! First think I ask them is, "Do you realize that you're in violation of Mormon doctrine and dogma?" (And of course, you know my karma ran over their dogma!) PARA! SHUT UP!! That gets their attention. I get this look of total and utter confusion. Then I tell them, "You're smiling and laughing, and that's a MAJOR NO NO." That gets them started; they smile big and start laughing, and then, I can go on like a comedian for 45 minutes or so, constantly reminding them that they're not supposed to be smiling or laughing. I'm sorta infectuous that way. AND, if I catch one away from his partner in crime, I'm even more infectuous. It gets worse when the partner comes over, because then I can start right over again, and it goes on and on.

Unfortunately, the Missionary Training Center in Provo (which I've seen, but never entered) does not prepare young missionaries-to-be (as far as I can tell) for a person such as me. And it's not only the humor routine that gets them.

When I first went to Provo in 1991 (job-hunting at WordPerfect - didn't get the job - mentioned above), my hosts had their monthly home-teaching that particular weekend. For those who don't understand, once a month, a pair of Mormons (waitaminit! Isn't the plural of Mormon Morma?) PARANOMASIA, YOU BEHAVE YOURSELF!! would come to a home and teach something with respect to the church, or dogma, or holidays or something. Great idea, as far as I'm concerned. BUT never never never never let a Jew in on it. You never know what'll happen.

So as I was saying, my hosts (wonderful people - Steve and Charlene Harmon) had their home teachers come, and I was invited to participate. Hey, I had no trouble with that. I must at this time explain that one of the home teachers had done his mission in either Santa Cruz or San Rafael or San-somesuch in Northern California, so he had probably seen Jews before. The other one I think had done his mission up at Temple Square in Salt Lake City and had possibly never met a Jew before me. Well, it's just before Thanksgiving, and they're talking about xmas, and the second teacher turns to me and asks me:

At that point, I started into what I call a "rabbinic mode," similar to what you might remember from Kemmelman's Rabbi Small books (like, if I remember correctly, Friday the Rabbi Slept Late, etc.). All I remember now is that I started on the issue of xmas, and went onto tangents and cotangents and secants and cosecants, and when I finally took a breath, the 20-minute home teaching session has stretched to 1 hour, 40 minutes. My hosts were semi-grinning over what had happened, realizing what a can of worms the one home teacher had opened. The one who had probably done his work in Salt Lake had his jaw to the ground, trying to pick it up. The two teachers mumbled something about having to get to home, hearth and dinner and left rather hurriedly. I don't think they were ever the same again.

When I lived in California, my condominium was just about 1000' from a Mormon chapel (this is another thing I should explain - what most non-Jews would think of as a church, to the Mormons, it's a chapel. Then they have these BIG chapels, which are probably like district headquarters or something, and those are called temples. And then, there's THE TEMPLE in Salt Lake City at Temple Square (which is really a square [as opposed to THE TEMPLE in Atlanta, a reform Jewish synagogue)). It was located on Sayre Street, just on the other side of Interstate 210 between the Hubbard and Rexford exits. In the entire time I lived down the street from them, I was never visited by Mormon missionaries. One day, less than a year from my move to Georgia, I called the chapel office and told the people there they were falling down on the job, that here it was, living this close to a chapel for all this time and I had never, never been visited by a missionary. When I was asked where I was, I said, "No you don't. You're supposed to find me, not have me tell you where I am." To this day, I have never been visited by the missionaries. wonder why . . . . . .

You must remember, I've been invited by the science-fiction Mormons to Life, the Universe and Everything 5 times now. I must be doing something correctly.

Why do I keep getting invited back? I make them laugh with and at themselves. Whether it was on Main Street in Flushing, where I had a missionary from Kansas, whose main language for hejira was KOREAN, going for 45 minutes, or at the symposium where they want me to come and record children's songs for the kids, or on-line now where I'm trying to convince Utah that it should try to host a regional or national science-fiction convention, I get them to laugh. Plain and simple. And I do it by being honest, straightforward, slightly irreverant, and slightly crazy (especially when I put on the excent - look out!).

The week of December 28, 1998 brought an new chapter to my view on the Mormons, which I explain here now:

Being my overly enthusiastic self, and trying to get more publicity for Life, the Universe and Everything XVII, the august (now held in March) symposium (a drinking party in a dry state) of science fiction held at Brig-'im (Dano!) Young University in Provo, Utah, and honestly meaning well, I wrote a letter to the head of the LDS church, telling him about the wonderful work the LTUE people did, and (shameless plug) telling him of "CelestialCon" and "MormonCon," my two Mormon filksongs ("MormonCon" will officially premiere at LTUE XVII), and inviting him to come, listen, and help interfaith relationships betwixt the two most misunderstood religious groups in the world (Mormons being the secondmost). On January 2, 1999, I received a response from a Mr. Don H. Saheli, whose official title is "Secretary to the President," from which I qoute:

". . . President Hinckley [he's "THE PROPHET", as I addressed it] appreciates your explanation regarding and your kind invitation for him to attend the symposium entitled Life, the Universe and Everything, to be held at BYU in March 1999. He is sure you will understand that due to his heavy responsibilities in the Church, he will be unable to attend.

"President Hinckley extends his best wishes for a happy new year and success in your worthwhile efforts."

I GOT A RESPONSE!!!

The other wakko (Ah, how about Yakko and Dot???) MUSES!!! thing I did was to contact the Osmonds via the Internet. I sent a Midwood-accented, Jewish-sounding e-mail to them, and after some internal e-mail ("is he for real??"), I got a response back (Yes and no, I am and am not for real) from Alan Osmond, leader of the Osmond Brothers. He told me I should listen to the missionaries (who are such fun to play with, verbally that is), and then, to my shock, he quoted TANAKH (that's BIBLE to those of you who don't understand Hebrew) at me, quoting Zechariah 12:10, which I now quote from an Orthodox version of TANAKH:

"I will pour out upon the house of David and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and supplications. They will look toward Me because of those whom they have stabbed; they will mourn over him as one mourns over an only [child], and be embittered over him like the embitterment over a [deceased] firstborn."

The Masorti (traditional Conservative Judaism)view of that verse is:

"And I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and supplication; And they shall look unto Me because they have thrust him through; and they shall mourn for him, as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his first-born."

Well, I HAD to respond. So I went to the Bible as well, and the liturgy, and responded with T'hillim (Psalms)145:18 which, with one or 2 (not like above) word changes, comes out as:

"The L--D is near to all who call Him, to all who call Him in truth."

Get all ZEN on me, willya? It got very quiet afterwards. Can't imagine why . . . . . .

By the way, did I mention there are people who think that the Book of Mormon is considered grade-b science fiction (sounds like L. Ron Ron Ron). If you do read it, skip II Nephi. Really bad. Really bad.

It also turns out that while at the symposium, I wrote another Mormon filksong, this time based on Kathy Mar's "Calm Down." I premiered it at the cabaret session the symposium has, and was told that I should not sing it ever again on campus. I guess I still have stuff to do about getting this Morma to laugh at themselves.

After I got back from Life, the Universe and Everything XVII, I happened to run into a pair of Mormon missionaries about 2 miles from my apartment. After talking to them on the phone (they were waiting for a bus), we got together about 2 weeks later, and I talked at them for nearly two hours. I think I've finally gotten it all out of my system. Now, if I can take all that ranting and raving and turn it into a paper, . . .

And then, there's the story about what happened on my recent trip to Wisconsin for JVL-Con. Because of the way things were set up for my flights, I had a 2.5 hour layover in St. Louis. Hadn't really had much of a breakfast, so figured I'd treat myself to some food for early brunch. As I was putting my trash in a receptacle, I saw one . . . a Mormon missionary!. Well, being the king of the Friendlies, I went to engage him in good chat, telling this younger (who said I should call him "Elder" - hey, waitaminit! You're 25 years younger than me and I should call you Elder?) person a "Whale of a Tale" (thanks, Mara Brener) about how there are orders to shoot me on sight if I'm within walking distance of the Missionary Training Center in Provo, that they're in violation of doctrine and dogma because they're smiling and laughing, the usual stuff. This one didn't have one companion, he had three (maybe they were trying to protect him?). They tried to show me the "error of my ways," and I reminded them that 1) they needed me as a good Jew, 2) never anger a bard, for your name is strange, it scans to Greensleeves, and I WILL put the song on the Internet that night. Some people never learn . . . Maybe I should have pulled Ps. 145:18 on them as well, but I was having too much fun.

On May 15, 2002, I didn't run into a pair of missionaries, I ran into 5 of them. Was coming heading to the post office across the street from where I work, and I saw them, the telltale signs: white shirts, short hair (at least on the 5), blank stare, but waitaminit! There's not an even amount. They're supposed to be in PAIRS!!! So I start looking at them, start the usual shtick, and then, all of a sudden, up come 3 more. Someone's put the word out - don't go around in Atlanta in pairs, GO AROUND IN PACKS!! Well, I give them about 5 minutes of my time and reminded them that they're in violation of doctrine and dogma, their shoes aren't shined, Younger Davis(?) was wearing (*GASP!) SNEAKERS!!, one had hair too long, Younger Orange (Naranjo) wouldn't even look at me, they were smiling (they can't NOT smile around me), they were laughing (at which point I pulled out the most memorable line from "Hardware Wars" - "you'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll kiss $3.50 goodbye" but waitaminit, isn't it $7.50 now?), what can I say? Thanks, guys, for lightening up my mood.

Well, I finally decided to try and get a pair of mormon missionaries to come to my place and see what they'd have to say. It was during the Athens Olympics on that first Saturday. They showed up a bit late. We sat and talked. They tried to convince me of the truth of their belief system. I listened and explained that I had some questions (none of which they were really able to answer). The big one was about necro-baptisms, where people who'd already died who weren't mormon (especially Jewish Holocaust survivors) were being baptized into the faith. I asked them why was it done? They explained that they had to be given the chance to believe in their system. I asked them further, "Don't you think if they wanted to be mormon, they would've become such?" They didn't really have an answer to that. I then asked the biggie: "How do you know that they want to be baptised?" Their answer:

We don't.

I've also learned about "lying for the L-rd." One of them indicated an interest in going to a Jewish service. I told him I'd see what I could arrange. Well, I called about 2 weeks after they came by and said, "If you're still interested, I'll be more than happy to take you." No response. Another call. Same message. No response. Two more calls. Same message. No response. The reason? Probably because, as I'd told them, I was Jewish, there was no way in high heaven they were going to convert me or make me change my belief system, and what I wanted was "intelligent conversation" to learn. Well, I guess they didn't want to teach, nor did they want to learn.

They didn't bear their testimonies to me. I think they're slipping (maybe it was the banana peel you put in front of their feet?) GEVALT! MUSES!

Since I hadn't heard anything from them since the Olympics, on October 16, 2004, I called the # they had put in the copy of the Book of Marman they'd left me. Turns out that one of the two missionaries had been transferred to Lost Mountain (never heard of that) and the other one was sick in bed, at which time I offered to make him a cure-all to heal him (not admitting that it was chicken soup). Well, this new missionary to whom I spoke was very perky, was also from Idaho, and couldn't stop laughing (even though I reminded him that he wasn't supposed to laugh loudly). We talked doctrine. Turns out this new missionary (whose name I didn't catch) hadn't even read the Jewish Bible! I thought he was supposed to know it inside out and backwards! Well, I caught him on some stuff he shouldn't known, including the fact that there was physical proof of certain things from the Jewish Bible (such as the Caves of Shiloach, the Western Wall, Meggido, etc.), while there was no such equivalent proof of things in the Book of Marman (steel, horses, elephants all being in the US over 2000 years ago). As far as going to a Jewish service, based on what he told me, I figure it'll never happen, even though I offered to drive anyone who wanted to go to see what the "real thing was like." Based on the lack of response since, I must assume they don't want to see what the truth is about Jewish services so that they can continue believing what they want to believe. *SIGH

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© 1998, 1999, 2001, 2002, 2004 sffilk@bellsouth.net

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