I Communed With Saints (of the Latter Day variety)!

OK, OK, Calm Down! I spent last Sunday morning with a few hundred Latter Day Saints. Of course, I politely refused communion. The communion consisted of white bread and water served by teenage boys wearing dark slacks, white shirts, and dark ties. Why are these details not a surprise? I used the official Catholic – approved gesture for refusing communion, which involves silently crossing your arms, and gently tapping each shoulder simultaneously with the opposite hand. I think this confused the boy priests, I hope they didn’t think it might be an obscene gesture. From listening to the service, I think that Mormons do not believe in Transubstantiation.

My ensemble played for the Sunday service, since one of our members is a member of that church. The service was not terribly exciting. The talks, given by the congregation’s men (all priests, of course) were pretty dull. Fortunately they didn’t harp on too much weird stuff, however, several verses were quoted from what I believe were Jesus’ sermons to the Incas, straight from the book of Mormon (I think). We also heard a lot about how hard work will make a man great, that we must never lose hope, and other surprisingly standard Protestant themes. It was somewhat comforting to observe that Mormon teenagers are equally bored in church as any other kids. Whatever.

The overriding feel of extreme patriarchy surrounding and throughout the whole environment was beyond belief. I cannot clearly describe any of the myriad of small patriarchy – reinforcing words and actions, but the cumulative effect was beyond anything I could have conceived. Ok, everything I could have conceived excepting plural wives. I was a little freaked out.

I talked with several church members, and everyone was nice. They were perfect hosts. No one asked me “if I was interested in learning more about their church”. Most important, no one offered me any me green kool-aid.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.