Thursday, September 24, 2009

LDS Missionary Work

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Ward Mission Leader, H. LaVar Turley
Subject: Dealing with Less Actives.

Less Actives can be so touchy. Always refusing our efforts to fellowship. Sometimes their protests are so violent, we're tempted to just blow them off, leave them to their sinful ways. But here's the thing. Nobody really wants to leave the one and only true church. Consider the shallow reason the Less Active left in the first place. Some minor personal slight, a delusional claim about church history, or simply the desire to booze it up in front of the porn channel. Face it, he's confused, and doesn't know what he means. When he says "leave me alone," I hear "come back soon." When he says "I don't want to go to church," I hear "I miss it so much!" When he says "no thank you," I hear, "yes please." So when I learned that some Less Actives were blocking our ward e-mails, I thought, it's a cry for help.

The following exchange occurred on the doorstep of one such Less Active:

Me: Good evening, Brother Confused, may I come in? I've brought some of my wife's nut loaf.

Brother Confused: No you may not come in and I don't want any stupid nut loaf.

Me: OK, we'll talk here. The ward is no longer able to send e-mails to your address. Has it changed?

Brother Confused: I've blocked your e-mails. Go away.

He shuts the door. I knock. No response. I ring the bell. No response. I lay on the bell. No response. I lay on the bell, knock and sing out "yoo-hoo" simultaneously. He opens the door, this time only as far as the chain lock allows.

Brother Confused: Get the #$%& off my porch.

Me: How 'bout the nut loaf?

Brother Confused: Take your $%&# nut loaf and stick it up your @#$&ing $%&.

Me: Actually I prefer herbal enemas.

Brother Confused: Get the #$%& off my property before I #$%&ing throw you off.

Me: Oh -- you!

He shuts the door. I wait on the porch for a few seconds, then creep around the side of the house. I hear a sound coming from a high window. I use a tree branch to boost myself to the sill, then peek through the pane. Sister Confused is soaking in the tub. She screams. Oops! awkward. I run back to the front porch. Brother Confused bursts out with his shotgun.

Me: I see you're a hunter. We'll invite you to our next ward turkey shoot.

Brother Confused: Maybe I'll shoot one now.

He aims the barrel at my chest.

Me: My you are a marksman. As you know we Mormons are strong supporters of the Second Amendment.

I raise both hands and back up quickly. As I pull away from the curb I see he is still on the porch with the gun. I give him a cheery wave, congratulate myself on my success, and make a mental note to pick up some body armor.

The Church is true! Amen

If you would like to stop receiving these e-mails, we will forward your request to the Stake President, the Salt Lake General Authorities, and your mother.

No comments:

Post a Comment