The Back Bench

I’ve got a bone to pick with CBS. And it’s a big one. We’re talking dinosaur-sized bone here. Brontosaurus femur bone, maybe.

The subject of my ire, dear reader, is the May 1 episode of the CBS crime-solving drama “Cold Case.”

Now, I don’t watch a lot of television. In fact, I’ve never seen “Cold Case.” I’ve only seen promos for it. I’ve never been interested in CSI copycats (Or in CSI for that matter). Plus it airs on Sundays. Which is why I didn’t see the episode in question, entitled “Creatures of the Night.”

The episode was brought to my attention by a thoroughly descriptive column written by Chris Hicks of the Deseret News (Read the column here). Mr. Hicks, like me, is quite perturbed by the episode’s depiction of Latter-day Saints.

Apparently the writers of “Cold Case” thought it would be clever to misrepresent us Mormons. We are, after all, just a bunch of wackos. What could be funnier than parading a few stupid Mormons on screen?

In the episode, Roy, a confused Mormon who just happens to be a serial killer and who kills people because he believes God tells him to, is portrayed as the sad product of his religion. It’s all right that he hears voices, his Mormon aunt explains. In fact, Joseph Smith and Brigham Young heard “avenging” voices, too.

Excuse me?

And when confronted about this character’s oddities, his friends simply shrug and say, “He’s Mormon,” as if that’s the perfect explanation for his weird behavior.

Did I miss something? Is Mormonism suddenly a mental disability? If I get a traffic ticket, can I get off now because I’m Mormon?

My attorney: Your Honor, this case is a no-brainer. Mr. Johnston here was clearly not in a state in which he could make coherent decisions and act responsibly. He is, after all, a Mormon.

Judge: Great googily moogily. Then why is he in this courtroom? Take that man to the funny farm where he belongs. <gavel pounding> Case dismissed.

Silly, right? Well, the writers of “Cold Case” apparently don’t think so. Because they didn’t stop there.

It’s not enough to make the killer a Mormon (and by Mormon they clearly mean “crazy person”). They also have to mock a few sacred beliefs of the LDS church while they’re at it.

At one point in the episode Roy’s aunt urges him to wear his “garmies,” which apparently is another word for garments.

Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve never heard the term “garmie” before. Perhaps the writers picked this up from one of their LDS friends (assuming they have any, which I doubt), but more than likely they made the word up themselves.

“We can’t call them garments,” I can hear one them saying during a writing session. “We’ve got to make a joke out of this. I mean this people have their own underwear, for crying out loud.”

The co-writer chuckles. “Yeah, how stupid is that?”

“Let’s call them garmentos.”

“Ha ha. That’s a good one. Like Mentos, the candy. Funny. How about garmentch.”

“Ha ha. No, wait. I got it. Listen to this: garmies.”

And they both fall over laughing. Oh, how clever they are. Garmies. What a bucket of yucks that will be. Goodness, they should be writing for “Joey,” they’re so funny.

Later in the show, Roy’s date strips him of his clothes while on stage at a screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. And what do we see? Why Roy’s garmies of course. There they are, those hilarious garmies. Wacca wacca wacca. Look at Roy’s garmies. I can’t believe those crazy Mormons. They actually wear garmies. Ha ha ha.

I’d like to give these writers the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps they weren’t aware of the sacred nature of the garment. Perhaps they didn’t know that they were openly mocking an important symbol of our devotion to God. And maybe, just maybe, they actually thought that garmies was the correct name for the garment.

But even if that is true, they’re still guilty of gross misrepresentation.

Ignorance is no excuse. If you are going to portray a certain faith or people, then you better be darn sure you know what you’re talking about. You better do your research.

Now, are there crazy people in this church? Of course there are. Are there murderers in this church? Maybe.

So is it possible that a story like this COULD happen in real life? Yes, of course it is. But that’s not the point. What these writers did wrong was to portray ALL Mormons (Roy and all others) as stupid, wacked-out social oddities.

And that’s both morally irresponsible and mean.

Think about it. To openly mock a religion is one thing. It’s inexcusable. But to misrepresent a religion and THEN openly mock it is even worse. It’s deceitful and fosters greater persecution.

Shame on the writers and producers of this show.

In his column, Mr. Hicks asks an excellent question: Would television ever openly mock a sacred Jewish symbol or a Muslim one?

The answer of course is no.

But Mormons? Yeah, Mormons are fair game. If you want to poke fun at someone, choose the Mormies, I mean Mormons.

I’m fully aware, of course, that this is TV. I know it’s make believe. So I should lighten up, right?

Wrong.

Because the boat only tips one way on this one. Mormons, if portrayed at all, are always depicted negatively. Always.

The only exception is when the Mormon “hero” overcomes the oppression of his faith and finds true happiness elsewhere. In other words, the church is the villain.

I put Jon Krakauer, the author of the best-smeller Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith, in the same category as the writers of “Cold Case.”

In his delightful little page turner, Mr. Krakauer does an expose on Ron and Dan Lafferty, self-proclaimed Mormon fundamentalists who murdered a woman and child because God, they claim, told them to.

But Mr. Krakauer’s intent was not to write a book on the crime. Mr Krakauer’s intent was to prove that religion is the seed of all hate in the world. These evil men on death row killed those people not only because their psychotic but also because there exists organizations like the LDS church.

Religion promotes socially destructive behavior, you see? We’d all be a lot better off if we could simply get rid of all religion–or at least get rid of what the left so often refers to as the “oppressive Christian right,” those small-minded simpletons who’ll burn a cross or a homosexual if only they can get their hands on a book of matches.

Ugh.

Books like this do nothing but generate religious intolerance and further disrupt the very social calm they claim to be advocating.

I’ll refer you next to another gem of entertainment entitled “Orgazmo.” This is a film brought to us by those hilarious guys behind that morally sound television show South Park and the equally tasteful recent film “Team America, World Police.”

“Orgazmo,” as you can guess from its title, is a real humdinger of a family film (he says sarcastically). In it, a Mormon missionary is hired to portray a superhero named, you guessed it, Orgazmo in a porn film.

Get it? Mormon missionaries and porn. Ha ha ha ha ha. Boy that’s funny. Look at that naive Mormon missionary turn all white in the presence of a naked woman. Ha ha ha. Oh, what a maroon. Wacca wacca wacca.

I’m not making this up, folks. This is a real movie. I’ve seen the trailer. I will not watch the film, of course, but look it up. It exists on DVD.

Oh, and it’s not porn. It’s a “comedy.”

Want more?

How about last years “Latter Days”? Many of you have likely heard of this film. In it, a gay man makes a bet with some friends that he can convince one of the Mormon missionaries (these suckers again) who live in his apartment building to fall in love with him.

The bet, it turns out, is easier to pull off than expected. One of the missionary is a closet homosexual. And low and behold, what began as a joke blossoms into a beautiful love affair.

But that’s not even the part that chaps my hide. What really bites my bunion is that the writer/director (C. Jay Cox) portrays ALL other Mormons in this films as vicious, mean-spirited bigots.

When the Mormon missionary is sent home from his mission for his behavior, for example, he must go report to the high council. There, shadowed in dark mood lighting, the stake president, who could pass as a member of the gestapo, stares down the missionary and says, “I wish my shame was enough for the both of us, not to mention the shame you’ve brought to this church.”

You would think the kid was meeting with Voldemort and all his mustache -twisting lieutenants these guys are so heartless. I half expected the entire high council and stake presidency to start sharpening knives or something. I kid you not, I’d rather face a horde of orcs than report to that crowd.

And the missionary’s mother?

Bigot. Right out of central casting. She despises her son and treats him so terribly that you want to strangle the woman.

And the other missionaries?

No different. Bigots. If it were up to them, they’d give this missionary a good hard beating.

And as if that wasn’t enough, another gay character in the film says, “I dated a Mormon guy once. His parents put him through shock therapy.”

Sounds like a great film, right?

Well, what if I told you that I only mentioned scenes from the TRAILER? That’s right, every scene I just described comes from the two-minute promo. I can’t imagine what other revelatory scenes on Mormonism the entire film contains.

But, hey, that’s how Mormons are, right? They hate homosexuals. They hate all people, in fact, who aren’t exactly like them.

All except one, of course. The one Mormon in the film whom we are led to like, the only person who demonstrates an ounce of human decency is the one Mormon smart enough to shed the manacles of his evil, oppressive faith.

In other words, the only good Mormon is the Mormon who doesn’t want to be a Mormon anymore.

When the film first came out, I went to the discussion board on the film’s official website and read some of the posts written by people who had seen the film. One of the posts went something like this:

“I had no idea that Mormons were so cruel. They’re bigots. How can they treat people this way?”

I almost fell out of my chair. Someone actually believes that this films gives an accurate depiction of the LDS church?

And that, my friends, is how religious intolerance is born.

Want more?

How about “Angels in America,” the hugely successful (if winning Golden Globes is any measure of success) film adaptation of the stage plays of the same name.

Like “Latter Days,” a Mormon man is torn between his religion and his natural sexual preference. He’s married to a woman, but he’s not being true to himself. He’s really a gay man stuck in a Mormon man’s body.

And his wife, is she portrayed as a typical Mormon woman, the kind of woman you see serving honorably in the Primary or Relief Society?

Of course not. She’s paranoid, delusional, and strung out on Valium.

How about one more? Remember the creative geniuses behind “Orgazmo”? The guys who give us South Park?

Well apparently they want to play their Mormon card as often as possible. I’m referring to an episode of South Park entitled “All About the Mormons.” In it, a new Mormon family moves into town and invites Stan, one of the show’s main characters, over for Family Home Evening.

The family is portrayed as nice and kind and sweet and wonderful. And then the Family Home Evening message begins.

What follows is a dramatization of the Joseph Smith story that includes the prophet’s First Vision, the visitation of the angel Moroni, the unearthing of the plates, the translation of the Book of Mormon, and Martin Harris losing the manuscript.

Oh, and did I mention it’s a tongue-in-cheek cartoon? And did I mention there’s singing?

Oh those Mormons. Always good for a laugh.

Ironically, in other episodes, the characters of South Park refer to Mormons as “the only people going to heaven.” Go figure.

The fact is, Mormons are never portrayed accurately. We’re either close-minded bigots or violent fundamentalists or both. We’re never portrayed as who we really are: decent, God-fearing people.

We don’t hate homosexuals. We don’t believe God tells us to kill people. In fact, we believe God tells us to love everyone.

But he doesn’t speak to us as an “avenging” voice in our head. He speaks to our hearts.

“But that’s not drama,” the studio executives say. “That’s boring.”

And to that I say, “Then leave us alone. If you don’t think the true depiction of us is interesting, then look for story ideas elsewhere.”

I don’t think that’s asking too much.

Poor elder’s quorum president. Here’s the guy whose sad job it is to get up every Sunday during priesthood opening exercises and ask for volunteers. The ward, it seems, always needs them.

The sisters need someone to set up tables and chairs for a relief society dinner. The stake needs ushers for stake conference. The ward needs someone to prepare the flowers to be passed out on Mothers’ Day.

Volunteers. Volunteers. Volunteers.

But no matter the auxiliary in need, be it the relief society or primary or whatever, it’s always the elder’s quorum president who gets stuck with the task of recruiting the volunteers.

And that, my friends, is no easy chore.

Because the elder’s quorum president can only ask the men. Or at least that’s whom he thinks he can only ask.

And asking a group of men to volunteer for manual labor is like asking them to cut off their fingers. It’s not going to happen. Or at least not with any enthusiasm. No one’s going to shoot their hand skyward and beg for more responsibility.

Well, I shouldn’t say no one. Typically there’s at least one guy who’s willing. And typically it’s always the same guy. You know the one to whom I refer: the guy who volunteers for everything and who always stays after activities to help clean up AND who always makes the rest of us feel guilty. The guy for whom a special level of the Celestial Kingdom has already been set aside.

The Golden Boy.

But other than Golden Boy, male volunteers are hard to muster.

Because let’s be honest, men aren’t like women. Women volunteer readily. And what’s more, when women volunteer, they actually show up and do the job. All of them.

I don’t mean to rag on men, mind you. Hollywood does that enough already. But let’s be honest, when it comes to spur-of-the-moment selfless service, the women got the men beat. Hands down.

Men, if you don’t believe me, sneak into any Relief Society meeting and watch those hands go up. Women are volunteering like crazy.

RS President: Sisters, we need some of you to take a dinner to the Morgans’ home this week. As you know, Sister Morgan just had surgery.

<A gush of wind blows out of the room as all hands are raised at once. Some sisters raise both hands.>

RS President: (smiling) Now I know all of you want to help, but Sister Morgan assures me that they only need three dinners. So I only need three volunteers.

<All hands remain raised.>

RS President: Well, it looks like we’ll have to make some calls and pick which three of you will be fortunate enough to take over a dinner. Thank you all for being willing.

Meanwhile, at priesthood opening exercises . . .

EQ President: Well, brethren, the stake needs three or four of us to set up chairs for the stake fireside this evening. Any volunteers?

<Golden Boy raises his hand. Everyone else sits frozen like statues. Finally, after a three minute pause . . . >

EQ President: By coming early you’ll obviously get a great seat for the fireside. Plus, there’s refreshments afterwards. Any takers?

<Silence. Nobody even blinks. One brother refuses to scratch his itchy nose for fear it will be confused as volunteering.>

EQ President: I’m sure you’ll be blessed for your service if you can make it.

<Crickets.>

EQ President: Well, we’ll make some calls and see if we can’t find a few of you who could squeeze it in.

Now, to be fair, the first example was one in which a person was in need. And in the second example, the stake, an entity, was in need.

When a person is in need, it’s always easier to volunteer. That’s because you can actually SEE how your service blesses someone.

If you’re helping someone move and loading the truck, for example, you can see the gratitude in their faces.

Unless of course you’ve dropped a box and broken something of value, in which case they’ll curse your name until your dying day.

My point is, if men can put a face with the task, they’re typically quick to sign up and help. Sister So-and-so needs her fence mended. Men will show up. Brother So-and-so needs help splitting this winter’s firewood. Men will show up.

But if the recipient of the service is a group or organization, getting volunteers is like squeezing water from stone.

It’s an interesting phenomenon. And a true one. If the service isn’t for a person, the task suddenly seems less urgent.

Somebody else will set up those chairs. Somebody else will be a youth conference chaperone. Somebody else will go work in the bishop’s storehouse.

Wise is the elder’s quorum president who pays attention to that fact.

EQ President: Brethren, this is Eliza Farmer. She currently works as a church-service missionary in the bishops’ storehouse. As you can see from the photo I’m holding, she’s getting up in years. She can’t lift the boxes like she used to. Can we get a few volunteers to go down on Tuesday and help Sister Farmer with some of her chores?

Now, I’m willing to bet real American dollars that he’ll get more volunteers that way. (Well, actually I won’t bet anything. President Hinckley’s recent address on gambling suggests that’s a bad idea.) But putting a face with the task will help. I’m sure of it.

And if it doesn’t work, I’ve got a few ideas as to how the poor sap can recruit the men he needs.

1. Lie

This won’t work more than a few times, of course. Eventually the guys will wise up to this. But it’s a guaranteed house-filler at least the first time.

Don’t tell the men, for example, that they’ll be picking apples at the church ranch. Tell them that they’ll be racing go-carts and playing paintball.

And don’t tell them they’ll be cleaning the church from top to bottom, including all the bathrooms and urinals. Tell them that Steve Young is coming to give them some pointers on how to throw a good spiral.

Lie through your teeth. Cook up some really juicy whoppers. Anything goes. Find their weakness and then exploit it.

2. Cry

We Mormons make at least forty percent of our decisions based on guilt. It’s a hard truth. Guilt is the great motivator.

Learn how to cry on demand. Learn how to open your tear ducts and let the water flow. Men in the church are suckers for sob stories.

And if that’s too hard, learn how to crack your voice in just the right places, so it seems like you’re on the verge of tears, but it’s only by the sheer strength of your will that you’re able to keep those tears at bay.

Sure, nobody likes to see a man cry, but that’s why this idea works! When all the boys see you crying up there, they’ll do anything to make you stop. Even, yes, volunteer.

EQ President: (sobbing like a baby) Brethren, I don’t know what we’re going to do. All hope seems lost. I’m at the end of my rope here. The bishop says we need some men to be chaperones at girl’s camp, and frankly that’s asking a lot. I can’t force myself to ask you. Whaaaaahh!! Sob sob sob.

Trust me, men will be so desperate for you to sit down, that they’ll volunteer themselves AND the guy sitting next to them.

3. Make it a competition

Most men are competitive to some degree. They love the thrill of winning. Adrenaline is almost as motivating as guilt.

So why not get volunteers, not by simply asking for them, but by holding an arm wrestling competition? Set up a table, have the boys lock hands, and blow a whistle.

They’ll grunt and strain and pull as if their lives depended on it. And after a few minutes, once all the losers are identified, you’ll have your volunteers.

Of course, if you’re needing volunteers to move a heavy piano, it might be a good idea after the arm wrestling to inform them that it’s the winners who will be moving the piano. You don’t want a bunch of scrawny guys giving themselves a hernia.

And if arm wrestling isn’t your cup of herbal tea, try a stick pull or Twister or Capture the Flag. Sure, you may get a few rug burns and some holes in those suits, but at least you’ll get all the volunteers you need.

And if you’re not up for a test of strength or speed, try a simple round of Draw Straws. Or darts. Or Yahtzee. Boys love a good competition.

4. Food

This one is a no-brainer. Everybody knows that if you wave food under a man’s nose, he’ll do anything to get it. Hold up a bag of Doritos and a man becomes putty in your hands.

But here’s the point that most people don’t realize: For this to work, it has to be GOOD food.

Cookies and punch don’t cut it anymore. There used to a be a time when men would show up solely on the promise of there being refreshments. But those days are gone.

Chuckling to yourself and saying, “Come on, brethren, there will be food,” won’t win you any help. This joke isn’t funny anymore.

Men need a menu. We need specifics.

To say that there will be “doughnuts” isn’t enough information. We need to know that they will be Krispy Kreme Doughnuts picked up while the Hot ‘N Now sign was on.

Or to say that “there will be ice cream or something afterwards” is even worse. Ice cream or something? No no no. You’ve got to sell it, baby. Give it some pizzaz. Make us believe that anyone stupid enough to miss a chance at this ice cream will kick himself for the rest of his sad little non-frozen-dairy life.

“We’ll have Neapolitan ice cream, brethren, with sprinkles, M&Ms, and whipped cream as toppings. Heck, I’ll even bring some chopped nuts. Oh, and did I mention that this is Ben & Jerry’s Neapolitan?”

Actually I don’t think Ben & Jerry’s makes that flavor, but shoot, the guys’ minds will be so busy telling their mouths to salivate, that they probably won’t even notice.

And of course don’t stop there. Offer bar-b-cue, fried chicken, burgers, steak, anything made of meat. Meat is the winner. But if I were you, I’d save meat for the really nasty jobs. Men will dig the Panama Canal for meat.

And of course if all else fails, if every tactic you try still doesn’t win you a work crew, play a clip from General Conference in which some general authority speaks on service and then press pause and ask for volunteers. Once properly motivated by the Spirit, men will volunteer. They’ll do anything.

Remind us of our duty, and we’ll show up saluting. But don’t just ask blandly for volunteers. We’re not that converted yet.

Well, not all of us anyway. There is Golden Boy, after all.

Why do people write anti-Mormon literature?

What motivates them to set aside so much of their valuable personal time and exhaust so much of their energy to write books or pamphlets that attack and vilify the LDS Church?

Do they really find us that threatening?

NOTE: I’m not talking about books that disagree with our doctrine. There are plenty of those and their authors mean us no harm. They have every right to interpret the scriptures differently than we do. And while we may not always agree with them, we respect them for their faith.

But anti-Mormons are a different breed. They’re malicious. If they had their way, the Church would crumble and all the members with it.

And so they write, warning the world of the great evil that is the LDS Church.

Wouldn’t all that paper be put to better use if the authors were to concern themselves with a legitimate social issue? Think about it. These people could write about anything: world hunger, nuclear arms proliferation, AIDS, domestic violence, drug control, welfare.

But the Mormon church? Come on. We’re not that bad, are we?

I mean, if we were really really mean and pushed down the elderly or something, then, yes, people have every right to be mad at us and should write a book about it.

Or if we destroyed rain forests to make room for all of our meeting houses, then go for it, write your book.

Or if we taught doctrine that degraded people or if we pinched little babies or if we wore a lot of mink or if we never ate free-range beef, then by golly you have every right to be spitting mad.

But on the whole, the LDS people are good people. My opinion is biased, of course, but I think we’re nice human beings.

And I think most people would agree with me.

And yet, walk into any decent-sized bookstore in this country and you’ll likely find books that openly attack the Church for any number of ludicrous reasons.

You won’t find Anti-Lutheran books or Anti-Seventh-Day-Adventist books or Anti-Presbyterian books.

But you will find one or two books attacking us, calling us a cult, calling us an oppressive patriarchal institution, calling us brain washed. You name it.

It’s a sad truth.

So the question is, what do we do about it?

Free Speech

Personal freedom is a pretty darn important thing. And freedom of speech is as important to us as is the freedom that allows us to worship how and where we choose.

So we acknowledge that anyone who writes degradingly against us has every right to do so. And we shouldn’t hinder that person’s rights to express himself or herself.

It just saddens us that what they write is so often not true.

Plenty has been written about past and current leaders of the church, for example, that is completely false. The easiest way to target an organization, I suppose, is to target its leaders.

But the Church isn’t in the business of suing people. Even if what they print is libel, the Church typically ignores it. To give it attention is to give it credibility, something those authors do not deserve.

So the Church ignores it. We should do the same.

Compassion

Many of you have probably heard about a recently published book by Martha Beck entitled Leaving the Saints: How I Lost the Mormons and Found My Faith.

From the title you can probably guess that this isn’t a book you’ll find at Church Distribution. I haven’t read it, nor do I have any desire to do so, but I think it’s safe to assume that it says some fairly negative things about the Church.

Publisher’s Weekly says that the book has a “hard, angry edge” to it and is “marred by shallow, formulaic anti-Mormon criticisms and an exaggerated description of the LDS Church.”

I’ll take their word for it.

The author, Martha Beck, is the daughter of the recently deceased LDS scholar Hugh Nibley, and much of the book is dedicated to Beck’s claims that as a child she was sexually abused by her father, a claim that all immediate members of the Nibley family vehemently deny.

It’s worth mentioning that Beck was unaware of this abuse until well into her adult life when, for whatever reason, she suddenly began to recall all the horrific things her father did to her.

In a written statement, the Nibley family had this to say:

Knowing our sister and the circumstances of our home, we agree that Martha Beck’s portrayal of our family in Leaving the Saints is false. We are saddened by the book’s countless errors, falsehoods, contradictions, and gross distortions. She misrepresents our family history, the basic facts of our lives, our family culture, the works of our father Hugh Nibley, and the basic principles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She also omits critical facts including her own previous writings, her and her husband’s search for their sexual identities, and the tortuous process — including self-hypnosis — by which she achieved her “recovered memories.”

Martha’s most egregious accusation – that our father molested her over several years and the family covered up the crime – is not true. While salacious accusations sell books, the reader should know that in this case it simply did not happen.

. . .While Martha claims to have been shut out by her family, our doors and our hearts have always been open to her and remain so. We love our sister and are very concerned for her at this time. We fear this is another instance of the self-destructive behavior that has haunted Martha throughout her life.

Breaks your heart, doesn’t it? Here is a women who, according to her own flesh and blood, has some serious personal issues. And now she’s (allegedly) lying to make a profit and spread religious prejudice.

Someone once said (I thought it was President Hinckley, but since I couldn’t find the actual citation, don’t quote me on that) that a lot of people leave the church but can’t leave the church alone. They have to attack it. They have to tear down the organization they so recently embraced.

I feel sorry those people. It’s too bad that their perception of the Church is so negative.

We should pray for them, really, pray that they’re able to resolve whatever it is in their lives that makes them so angry.

We need not pray that they become members of the Church or that they become converted to our way of thinking. Chances are that won’t happen. We simply need to hope that they find some peace in their lives.

Anti-Mormon literature will always exist. And I’m guessing it will become even more prevalent in years to come.

In the meantime, we should consider its source. Do we really want to read what these people have to say about us? Or should we rely instead upon our own experiences?

The last thing we should do is allow anti-Mormon literature to upset us. It shouldn’t. It’s not worth an ounce of our emotion or a minute of our time.

Of course, maybe the real issue is that these authors simply don’t know how best to use their talent. They obviously have a gift for writing; it’s not easy to get published. So maybe we should suggest to them more meaningful ways to use their writing abilities.

Here goes.

Dear Authors of Anti-Mormon Literature,

Wassup? How you doing? Oh wait. I need not ask that. I know how you’re doing. You’re angry.

Let me start again.

Dear Authors of Anti-Mormon Literature,

The purpose of my letter is to offer you a few suggestions on other ways to use your literary talent. I know you’ve got a bone to pick with us, but we’re actually not that bad. In fact, our friends think we’re pretty cool.

So before you sit down at your keyboard and spew forth all that aggression, consider the following:

1. Hollywood

Hollywood is plagued with silly, frivolous films. Dumb plot lines. Embarrassing dialogue. Pointless perversities. It’s enough to make you stay home from the theater and watch Judge Judy.

So I say, why not use all that literary talent of yours to write a cool movie script? It’s easy. All you need is some screenplay-writing software and a story.

PLEASE NOTE: movies about why you hate Mormons or movies about evil Mormons or movies about Mormons with horns will never fly with studio executives. I thought I’d just throw that out there.

2. Yard sale signs

This is a serious problem. Yard sale signs are everywhere: nailed to our telephone poles, stapled to our trees, taped to our garage doors. And not only do the authors of these signs have poor penmanship, but also they lack literary spunk.

I suggest that instead of writing a lengthy memoir on all the demons you knew in the LDS Church, you write some intriguing yard sale signs.

I mean, there’s a lot of room for improvement: Yard Sale This Saturday. Boring boring boring.

Why not something like: Previously Owned Personal Items Will Be Available for Your Purchase This Coming Sabbath Eve.

Now that’s a sign! And I’m sure you can come up with better ones.

3. Gravestones

Yes, it’s a little morbid, but have you been to a cemetery lately? All the gravestones are identical. No diversity. No charm. Just the same old same old.

John Doe, beloved father and husband. Boring boring boring.

Why not something like: John Doe, He had a bad ticker but the man could make some great chili.

Now that’s a eulogy. That says something about John. It makes him unique. When his ancestors come generations later to his grave site, they’ll say, “Wow. Look Ma, Great great great grandpa John really knew what to do with beans.”

4. Rock Concert Tee Shirts

You know what I’m talking about here. When you go to a concert, you have the option of spending a ridiculous portion of your monthly salary on a tee shirt celebrating the event.

Typically the band’s name is on the front and the cities of the tour are on the back. Boring boring boring.

Why not spruce these shirts up a bit? Why not use your mastery of the English language to give these shirts some zing?

Rather than list the cities in sequential order by tour date: Chicago, Austin, Spokane, Des Moines? Why not list them in alphabetical order instead: Austin, Chicago, Des Moines, Spokane?

Cool, huh? There are so many other possibilities.

And if that doesn’t sell you on the idea, this will: As far as I know there are NO Mormon rock bands. KISS, not Mormon. Rolling Stones, not Mormon. Ozzy Osborne, not Mormon. So the chances of you having to work for the enemy are nil. Righteous! (And of course by righteous I mean the exclamation, not the dutiful adherence to God’s commandments. Relax).

And in truth, there are countless ways you Mormon bashers could better use your writing talent. Don’t limit yourself to my ideas. Be creative. Try greeting cards, dog tags, grocery store receipts. The possibilities are endless.

I wish you all my best.

Your friend (still),

Aaron Johnston

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Addendum:   The quote: “They leave the church, but they cannot leave the Church alone” was actually said by Elder Neal A. Maxwell in his talk entitled “Becometh As A Child” (Ensign, May 1996, p. 68) in which he quoted himself from “The Net Gathers of Every Kind” (Ensign, Nov. 1980, p. 14). Special thanks to Dianne Anderson for the correction.

I have long legs. Long, lanky, trip-over-myself legs. Imagine a pair of telephone poles covered in dirty denim, and you get a pretty good idea what the bottom half of me looks like.

Of course, put a tee shirt on that pole and you get a pretty good idea what the top half of me looks like. But my legs are the focus here, so let’s stick with those, shall we?

I like my legs. They aren’t much to look at, I’ll admit, but they give me some slight advantages over, say, stumpy-legged individuals. I can reach higher, run faster, and play a mean game of hop scotch.

But having long legs has it’s disadvantages, too. It’s not all springtime and roses, let me tell ya.

You see, long legs only come in handy when I’m standing. The moment I sit down my long legs become a burden. That’s because I no longer need them. When I stand they support the weight of my body, but when I sit, that responsibility goes to my rear end, or buttocks, if you will.

So now my legs are in the way. They serve no purpose, and yet I have to do something with them. I can’t detach them and set them aside.

The argument could be made, of course, that legs aren’t completely useless when we sit. Some would say that our legs give us balance, hold us upright.

But that’s only true if we lean forward when we sit, like a child poised on the edge of her seat, eagerly waiting the conclusion of the story being read to her (How’s that for a simile!).

And in this instance I agree: legs become handy. Without them, we’d pitch forward, land on our faces, and make ourselves suddenly less attractive.

But here’s the thing: I don’t lean forward. Ever.

Why lean forward? Leaning forward is silly. Why not enjoy the world lazily from a semi-recumbent position?

So I sit back, never forward.

And when one sits back, one’s legs slide forward. And when one legs slide forward – legs I would remind you that at present serve no purpose – they become increasingly problematic.

At home this isn’t a problem. Because at home I can put my feet up.

Take the couch, for instance. Ah, the couch. How I love the couch. Second only to the bed in my mind. There’s nothing like a nice, fluffy couch. And believe me when I tell you that mine is one of the best. Covered in stains, maybe, but a nice place to rest your rump, no question.

Now, in front of my couch you will find a coffee table. Don’t ask me why we call it the coffee table since it is neither made of coffee nor holds coffee cups. We don’t drink coffee.

It would be more appropriate to call it the feet table. Because that’s all we use it for. We put our feet on it. The couch is for the rump and back, and the feet table is for the feet.

So what’s my point?

My point is this: at home I can put my feet up. But that’s it. No where else can I do this. Only in the home is this considered sanitary behavior. Put your feet up at a restaurant or a doctor’s office and old ladies will beat you with their purses.

And no where is this more sinful than at church. We do not put our feet up at church. Not only is it unsanitary, it’s downright irreligious, some would say.

Putting your feet up in a dedicated church building is right up there with lying at tithing settlement. It’s frowned upon. No, it’s more than frowned upon. It’s double frowned upon. It’s droopy-eyes-and-furrowed-browed frowned upon.

In short, it’s bad. We just don’t do it.

But wouldn’t it be nice if we could? Wouldn’t it be nice if we all got a soft ottoman?

Think of it. There are two guys who greet you at the door: the guy who hands you a program, and the guy who hands you an ottoman. It’s easy to shake the program-giver’s hand, of course. After all, it’s only a program.

But shaking the hand of the guy who gives you the ottoman, well, that takes a little doing. But by golly if it wouldn’t be worth the trouble!

I can see myself now, enjoying the final speaker in sacrament meeting with my feet on a cozy ottoman.

But that’s only a fantasy. In real life I’m wedged into some rather narrow pews with my knees at my ears.

You see, whoever designed the seating arrangements in older church buildings was, I’m guessing, about three feet tall. In other words, the early church architects weren’t stocky, tall pioneers, they were Oompa-Loompas.

It’s the only logical explanation I can think of.

Take the Tabernacle, for instance. Have you ever sat in the Tabernacle? The pews there are right on top of one another. The space between them is minuscule. Climbing into those seats is an experiment in human origami; you’ve got to bend yourself in awkward positions just to sit down.

Fortunately, the newer church buildings are far more generous in their legroom.

But our ward meets in an old building. So I have a Dickens of a time getting comfortable.

Since I can’t put my feet up, what I usually do is slide my feet under the pew in front of me. This poses a few dangers, the greatest of which is bumping into the feet of the person sitting in front of me.

That’s always awkward. If someone hits your feet, you think, “Do I turn around and tell them it’s all right? Do I act like I didn’t feel it and move my feet away casually? Or do I kick them back?”

And if you’re the culprit, you think, “Should I apologize for bumping their feet? Would that only interrupt them further? Should I retract my feet and act as if I didn’t notice to have bumped them? Or should I kick until they move their feet and make room for mine?”

You can see how this can quickly become an awkward situation.

But the most awkward is when you touch someone’s feet and neither of you move your feet. I’ve done this before, thinking that my feet were touching the support beam of the pew, not someone’s else’s feet.

I finally realized it was someone’s feet when after, what to them must have seemed like a long and awkward moment, they moved their feet.

My first thought was, “Oh my goodness, the pew is moving.” But then I thought, “Oh my goodness, this person thinks I want to play footsie with them.”

The only thing to do at that point is duck out of the chapel before the closing prayer and hope the person in front of you doesn’t notice.

Another option I often employ is what I call the “executive cross.” This is how the men on the stand often sit.

It’s done by crossing one leg over the other so that the knees are practically on top of one another.

It’s rather comfortable. And practical, too; when the leg on the bottom becomes tired from carrying the weight of the other leg, you can switch and rest the tired leg on top of the rested leg. This can go on for hours.

And both men and women can sit this way.

But if you have thick legs, the executive cross is difficult to pull off. It really only works with long, thin legs.

Another option is the “foot perch.” Only men do this. It’s done by placing the side of the foot atop the knee of the other leg.

It’s not the most attractive of sitting positions since the sole of the perched shoe is now visible to other people sitting near you. And who knows what’s stuck to the bottom of your shoe.

Plus this sitting position takes up a lot of space, not to mention spreads your thighs apart and exposes your groin area more than some would consider socially acceptable.

Of course, the last option is the most boring option. You can sit down, back straight, legs together with both feet flat on the floor. Most people would call this the normal way to sit.

And yes, it works just fine.

But where’s the fun in that?

I propose we do what the airline industry does: lets offer two types of seats in the chapel: first class and coach.

First class seats recline, are comfortable, and offer plenty of legroom. Coach seats are similar to what we have now, only they recline a little, but not enough to allow you to actually fall asleep.

And nuts. We should all get nuts.

But the question arises: How do we determine who gets the first class seats and who gets coach? Well, investigators should always get first class. I think we can all agree on that.

But besides them, first class seats should be taken on a first-come, first-serve basis. What better way to improve the punctuality of our people than to offer a clear incentive to coming early to the meetings?

Think about it.

And in the meantime, I’m going to get up from this seat and use these stilts of mine. They’ve been sitting here under this desk doing nothing for far too long.

Besides, I’ve got a hop-scotch tournament to get to.

I recently saw a homeless man holding a cardboard sign that read, “Need Money for Booze.” I’m not joking. Rather than claim to be a Vietnam vet or a disabled person or simply in need of help, this guy chose to be shamelessly candid.

“I’m an alcoholic and I need a drink.”

His thinking, I can only suspect, was that the sign would evoke a few chuckles, particularly from people who also enjoy drinking alcohol and who might find his candor a little endearing.

“Booze, you say? Well I can sympathize with you there, buddy. I like slamming back a few cold ones myself. Here take a buck.”

I, on the other hand, wasn’t amused. One, because I think alcohol can be terribly destructive (aforementioned homeless man is my Exhibit A). And secondly, and more importantly, because this homeless guy was making a joke out of what is a very serious fear in all of us: that the aid we give to the needy is not, in the end, used for the purposes we intended.

I don’t give homeless people money. And there are a lot of them in the town I live in. A LOT.

Is it because I’m heartless?

No, it’s because I’m a skeptic.

Whenever I see a homeless person asking for money, I immediately assume that they’ll use whatever I give them to feed their addiction. Not all of them are alcoholics or drug users, of course. Some are down on their luck for no fault of their own. But how can I tell the difference? Better to be safe and give them nothing at all.

Some people disagree.

Some people give and give and give. And by so doing perpetuate the problem only further.

Other people use different tactics. They give the homeless food. This is one method I highly endorse. People have to eat. What better way to ensure they do so then by putting hot food in their hands?

Other people believe in making the homeless work for their food. So they bring them home and give them a chore.

This has to be the stupidest, most dangerous form of goodwill. Consider Elizabeth Smart. Her parents, I’m sure, will forever regret bringing that man home and offering him work.

But my skepticism doesn’t stop at the homeless. I’m wary of many charitable organizations as well.

And for good reason.

Let’s face it. There’s a lot of dishonest people in this world, people who won’t think twice about preying on our kindness and generosity.

And according to the National Consumers League and the Better Business Bureau, charity scams are at their worst immediately following a natural disaster.

You see, crooks know we want to contribute to the relief effort, so they start a phony charity and take us to the cleaners.

Or (and this is more common) legally recognized charities jump into action when disaster strikes, eagerly calling for donations but then giving only a fraction of the overall proceeds to those in need. The rest goes to “overhead.”

Browse www.give.org, the official website of the Better Business Bureau’s charity watchdog group, and you’ll find so many warnings about charity scams that you’ll think twice about giving your money to anyone. Ever.

And that’s just sad. Because there are hundreds of honest, legitimate charities that do everything we want them to. They’re good people. They truly care. And the money we give them goes directly from their hands into the ones that need it the most.

Again, hundreds. The BBB has a long and thorough list.

I mention all of this because as Latter-day Saints we’ve been commanded to bless and help the needy; King Benjamin gives a wonderful sermon on the subject; as does Christ. But doing so can be a tricky task in a world so polluted with dishonestly and corruption.

That’s why we’re so fortunate to have the church welfare system. That’s one charity we can trust. No one makes a dime off its proceeds. When we pay a generous fast offering, we can be confident that all of it will go to the person or family with the greatest needs.

Of course, fast offerings isn’t the only way we can give. If you’re feeling especially generous – and the First Presidency in a recent statement encouraged you to be just that – then you can make a direct donation to the tsunami relief fund by visiting the Humanitarian Services Giving Site, a link from lds.org, the church’s official website.

The whole process takes about three minutes and you can pay with a credit card, a wire transfer, or by other means. You can even send a check or money order via snail-mail if you’re reluctant to use your credit card online.

What’s cool about online donations is that the money goes immediately to the relief effort. Planes are loading now. Food is going now. Water is going now. What you give could bolster that effort RIGHT NOW.

Of course, much could be said about other forms of aid as well. Our humanitarian efforts need not start and stop with our checkbooks. We can give time, clothing, talent, love, friendship, cookies, phone calls, house calls, duck calls, anything that will bless and lift those in need.

Because giving shouldn’t be what we do, it should be who we are. It should define us.

I heard on the radio that the United States constitutes only 6% of the world population but over 60% of the world’s humanitarian aid. We’re the most charitable nation in the world. By far.

Latter-day Saints should be leading that charge. We should be the best of the best, the most generous of the most generous.

We certainly have the infrastructure to do it. The church is wonderful in that regard.

And so are many other charitable organizations.

Too bad they all aren’t. If only we could wave a magic wand and wipe out all the phony ones. If only we could zap all the crooks and hoodwinkers.

And while we’re at it, let’s wave a magic wand over that man’s sign and change a few letters so instead of “Need Money for Booze” it reads “Need Monkey to Bruise.” Twisted, yes, but far more interesting.