Don't Mess With ...

[bloodyrosemccoy]

In spite of the stories of the crazy temple rituals, your regular Mormon sacrament meeting is an extraordinarily boring affair. Prayers are mumbled, hymns are droned, speeches are stammered and the ends of each sentence dropped. The music is stilted. Other than pews and the decorative organ up front, the room has very little to distinguish it from your elementary school’s “multi-purpose” room. And the non-transubstantiating body and blood of Jesus Christ are played here by consecrated chunks of torn-up Wonder Bread and tapwater.

I’ve had a few friends offer to take me to church, reasoning that I will be so fired with enthusiasm for this exciting new lifestyle that I will soon start asking where I can sign up. I even went once or twice with a friend.

This just caused me to swear that nothing could get me back in there again.

I lied. It turns out that a very few things can make me go, and one of those things just came back from her 18-month mission to the Baltics.

You may be a little surprised that I am supporting someone enough to go to a church and hear all about how their mission to convert people to yet another silly belief system went. That is because you have not met my friend Heather. It is hard to describe Heather. You have to meet her to really believe it when I say she’s the nicest, sincerest person in the world. The best I can do is to say that, if Heather announced her decision to become a serial hitchhiking murderer, I would support her all the way and be sad if she came home and felt she hadn’t beheaded enough RVers. Such is the power of Heather.

So I went, and heard a bit about her adventures, and expect to hear a lot more soon. She left while I was in Africa, so I get to tell her some stories, too. But since this was a big old gathering, I couldn’t very well corner her and chat as much as I wanted. I figured it was enough to show up and say hi today and then let her go back to sleep. We are going to meet when she is a little less jet-lagged and overwhelmed.

It’s nice to have one more friend back in town. I don’t know if the mission will change our dynamic, what with my stubborn belief that religion is ridiculous and all that, but for now … I’m just happy she’s home.

Comments

[luinmir.livejournal.com]

I recall it being torn up chunks of homemade whole-grain-type bread. Passed around the church in little baskets. Maybe that was just the feature of the ward we were in, though. (Or I remember incorrectly, as I was five or so last time I went to church.)

[beetzart.livejournal.com]

What's funny is that right before I left, they outlawed wheat bread because it did not reflect the "purity" of white bread.

[kittikattie.livejournal.com]

...THERE IS NO SENSE.

[padparadscha.livejournal.com]

Not sure if it's truly TEH LAW, but I think white bread is preferred. Which is, I have to admit, HIGHLY symbolically accurate around here ...

[lizey.livejournal.com]

What's funny is that right before I left, they outlawed wheat bread because it did not reflect the "purity" of white bread.

Really? Really? Did they also check that the bread was made by white virgins, using bleached flour and butter produced by white cows, which never ate so much as a blade of grass with any dirt on it?

[gwalla.livejournal.com]

Yeasty miscegenation!

[padparadscha.livejournal.com]

Really? I thought it was more just a taste thing. That's an official law?