Tuesday, August 6, 2013

The Mormons, The Missionaries and Me!

A follow up from May 28th post “Pizza and the Mormon Fuzz.”


Let me start off saying, you do have to admire the thought process behind sending kids on a Mission. (Seriously, it’s ingenious!) If I ever start a religion, I’m going to implement it.

And, in the matter of full disclosure, I haven’t been shy about asking the ward members for help in finding hirable assistance of one kind or another.  Mormons are kick butt organizers and extensive fellowship masters and they have come up with some fantastic people that I never would have found on my own. So as much as I completely disagree with the content presented, I do think the process is genius.


Take young men, traditionally the linchpin of societal trouble, and immerse them in a structured oligarchy.  Most will comply with demands, expectations and fostering the seeds of belief into adulthood.  Plus you get all that proselytizing and any religion will confirm, prosperity comes by increasing the size of your congregation.


So the big news is the minimum age for missionaries has changed.  Boys went from 19 to 18 and girls went from 21 to 19.  The result? Applications to become a missionary went from 700 a week to 4,000 a week, girls making the majority leap in application status.  (Give those sisters something to do besides seek a future head of household and they are on top of it!)


Upper ages for missionaries? For young men the cut off is 25.  I don’t know why. Possibly figuring that if you don’t have your shit together by then, it’s never going to happen. But for girls, there isn’t an upper age limit, at least not one I could find.  Again, not sure why but I’m guessing if you haven’t found an eternal partner when you’re pushing 30, you might as well go because you are a write off in the marriage department (at least in the State of Deseret.)


Now, what I can’t imagine is a group of seasoned sister missionaries, a little more world travelled and self - reliant, accepting some aspects of a mission.  “Um, excuse me, but that sounds really boring and fairly stupid and frankly I would just as soon take a nap. So that won’t be happening.”


Years and years and years later, and I’ve progressed to the point where I don’t feel an uncontrollable desire to run missionaries over with the car. (I know! Progress!)


And, when my Bishop tracked me down in the hospital, we had a very nice chat. It concluded with, yes, I absolutely would let my daughter attend young women activities if she wanted. No, I absolutely would not encourage her to attend the hours and hours of Sunday services. 


No, I absolutely will be attending the guilt ridden dungeon of my childhood. (Do you know how much therapy I’ve already paid for, to counter those weekly occurrence?) No, I absolutely do not want church visitors. 

I can tolerate free range missionaries but having young, perky kids with illogical faith-based answers to all of life’s questions will push me over the edge.  And considering  and rapid increase in willing souls to participate in the mission experience, I might be fighting an uphill battle anyway.

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