New Policy For LDS Missionaries: Don't Ask, Don't Tell

To: Abbottsville Stake
From: Mitchell Knightly, President of the Abbottsville Stake
Subject: New policy for full time missionary applicants

Recently a 20-year-old young man was denied the opportunity to serve a full time mission when he told his stake president that he did not support the LDS Church's stand against same-sex marriage. While the local authorities acted in good conscious at the time, the incident sent shock waves through the missionary community. In the hours since the story broke, over 1000 potential missionaries have withdrawn their applications based on similar objections to church positions.

Additionally, a growing number of missionaries in the field are requesting early release, complaining that they can no longer present the official views of the LDS Church with a straight face.

Because of these unfortunate developments, the Brethren have decided to add a "don't ask, don't tell" policy to the missionary application process.

From now on, all full time mission applicants may be assured that their opinions of the LDS Church and its leaders will have no bearing upon their acceptance into the program, so long as they keep their said opinions to themselves. In other words:

Don't tell your stake president that you disagree with the way the LDS Church treats gays, feminists, and intellectuals--and he won't ask.

As for the problems that the missionaries in the field are facing, the Brethren are still weighing potential solutions. 

One option under consideration is to change the temple recommend question from: Do you sustain and support the General Authorities? to Do you listen to the General Authorities? Then, if the candidate answers yes, follow-up with, Do you intend to repeat what they say?

Until a consensus can be reached, full time missionaries are urged to spend their preparation time studying books and other media that present the LDS Church in a positive light, such as The Mormon Way of Doing Business, or a David Archuleta concert. Likewise, they should avoid all anti-Momon sources including, The Book of Mormon, The Doctrine and Covenants, The Pearl of Great Price, the Ensign, General Conference, any of Romney's speeches, and KBYU television.

If you would like to stop receiving these e-mails, we won't tell.

Heaven Up Here by John K. Williams

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Donna Banta
Subject: Another Ward Gossip book review!

Heaven Up Here

by

John K. Williams

I never served an LDS mission. But I have known my share of Mormon missionaries and have viewed them from varying perspectives.

First I watched my friends leave on their missions. Almost all of them were nineteen-year-old boys. When they returned they looked and acted like thirty-five-year-old men. I knew this transformation occurred because they had just come back from a deeply profound and gratifying experience. The reason I knew this was because each one of them stood in Sacrament Meeting and described his mission as being "the best two years of his life."

Later, as a grown-up doubting Mormon, these "thirty-five-year-old men" went back to being boys. --Boys who came to dinner at our house every month and spent the better part of the meal encouraging us to help them annoy our neighbors. 

After that, as an ex-Mormon, I saw them as squirrelly, self-righteous little twits who sometimes compelled me to slam my door in their faces. 

Then in April 2011 I went to Broadway's Eugene O'Neill Theater and watched a couple of adorable goofball Elders do their darndest to win the hearts of a small Ugandan tribe.

Elder Price: Africa is nothing like The Lion King. I think that movie took a lot of artistic license.

Fun romp that it was, The Book of Mormon reminded me of how young and clueless these "thirty-five-year-old boys" really are. While LDS leaders claim that the musical is inaccurate and "anti-Mormon," Parker and Stone's play goes a long way toward showing outsiders why LDS young people choose to serve and complete missions, even when their presence in a culture makes absolutely no sense. Since seeing the play on stage, I've been less inclined to slam my door. I imagine others who have seen it have had a similar change of heart.  

Then last month I read John K. Williams book, Heaven Up Here. And finally, thirty-some years after seeing my friends leave on their missions, I understand why so many come home looking fifteen years older.

Heaven Up Here begins in the pristine setting of Brigham Young University where Williams spends what most college students would consider a bizarrely sober and chaste freshman year. Then, upon receiving a call to serve in Bolivia, he enters the Missionary Training Center where he learns Spanish, memorizes missionary lessons, and is taught that Bolivia is well-equipped with modern conveniences and that the people will beg to be baptized.

Thus prepared, Elder Williams embarks on what he knows will be "the best two years of his life."

His first area is high in the Andes, where he is immediately stricken with altitude sickness. After that he falls prey to various parasites, as do most others in the mission. He describes "brown outs," a slang term for on the spot diarrhea emergencies, and a siege of nausea that causes him to vomit six-inch worms. He endures filthy living conditions, a painful treatment at a horrific medical facility, and dangerous outbursts of political unrest that in one instance almost costs him his life. Such stressful conditions take a toll on many of his companions who grapple with depression, near insanity, and suicidal tendencies. Some of the Elders even drink and become sexually promiscuous. But painful and bizarre as his conditions are, the thought of returning home early is even more painful. So Elder Williams commits to staying the duration, and even lies to his parents about his health and well-being. On top of that, when he is given the opportunity to extend his mission from eighteen months to two years, he immediately agrees.

In spite of the negative experiences, Williams' narrative never presents itself as an expose of Mormon missions, nor does it condemn the LDS Church. It is an elegantly written memoir told in the voice of a believing young man who doesn't rely on tiresome faith-promoting morals. And not all of his experiences are negative.

At what is perhaps the lowest point of the story, Elder Williams glumly realizes that he has completed eighteen months of his mission and could be going home. Soon after that he is transferred to the Bolivian rainforest where he picks cashews off of trees and a macaw alights on his companion's shoulder. The heat is oppressive, but after eighteen months in the country, Elder Williams is used to climate extremes. Also his experience finally enables him to navigate the culture with ease. He interacts with some interesting Bolivian characters, takes shopping trips to Brazil, and has a humorous encounter with a mid-level drug dealer. He spends an unforgettable Christmas with a humble and loving Bolivian family. Then on his last day in the country, he rides a bicycle for the first and only time. It is an ending that is far more faith-promoting than any Sacrament Meeting homecoming talk, and even makes this cynical ex-Mormon feel grateful that Williams decided to extend his mission.

Heaven Up Here is a must read for believing Mormons, ex-Mormons, and anyone who is interested in an honest account of an LDS mission. Hopefully it will encourage more forthcoming stories about Mormon missionaries, as it did postmormon girl recently.

Heaven Up Here is available in both paperback and as an ebook.
Or purchase a signed copy from the author himself at the upcoming Sunstone Symposium July 25-28. I'll be there too signing copies of The Girls, as will C.L. Hanson, author of ExMormon. There will be more great titles on sale from the Mormon Alumni Association as well.

Musings From The Mission Field

To: abbottsville fourth ward
From: elder young, france paris mission
Subject: bon jour from the mission field!!!!

hey abbottsville fourth!!!!

first off, thanks all of you for your letters and care packages, especially the ones with the rice krispy treats and chocolate covered corn nuts!! my comp says i have the best ward ever!!!        :-))))

we were bummed this morning when we learnt that Mademoiselle Fusee had another run in with the vice squad and can't be baptized until september. but then my comp reminded me again that we were in gay par-ee, and we should be gay!!! hahaha (btw, i totally knew that by gay he meant happy, and he knew i knew that btw.) hahaha :-)))) lol lol lol


so we put on our happy faces and walked over to the rodin sculpture garden. It was scary at first because all we saw were super worldly people ogling at these enormous naked statues. =-o 


we bowed our heads and asked Heavenly Father what to do. then at his suggestion we hid behind the famous thinker statue and when somebody walked up, we jumped out and said: 

"thinking about finding the one and only true church?!!!"

get it? thinking???? it worked too, that is until this prideful lady tour guide told us to leave. we said we didn't have to and she said we did and we said we didn't so she left then came back dragging a garden hose with one of those high powered nozzles and blasted us. as messangers of the one and only true church, comp and i are used to being persacuted, so instead of running away we did an adorable little water ballet while singing "jesus wants me for a sunbeam." :-))))) hahahaha

only then the gendarmes arrived and told us to leave. we told them we didn't have to b/c Heavenly Father said. then they told us we were under arrest and we said they couldn't arrest us b/c we worked for God and they only worked for france. then they pointed their guns at our faces and we ran. 


they ran too, and all of the sudden we were in this super cool chase scene like the one in that classic old movie Bullet. only we were on foot. also we were wearing name tags and carrying book of mormons, which made us way cooler than steve mcqueen. we ran down the rue varelle, over rue da bach, across the punt royale, and the into the jardine de tweeteries where we escaped by diving into one of those geometric shaped shrubbery thingies. :-))))))))

we were kind of bummed after that b/c we really thought we were on to something with that whole thinker thing. then it came to us, in paris the thinkers hang out in the cafes where they gather in little salons and talk about episiotomies and notetics, and other way cerebral stuff. So we decided to form our own salon, only instead of discussing the works of balzac or hemingway or flowbare, we would discuss the deepest most intellectual work of all time: the book of mormon!!! :-)))))))


we went to the nearest cafe, found us a table that hadn't been cleared yet, pulled some nutella out of comp's backpack (it's this stuff that's just like peanut butter only chocolate) and began spreading it on some bread that was left over one of the plates. then i stood on a chair, held up the book of mormon and shouted:

"my fellow parisians, comp and i invite you to join in a discussion of the most profoundly psychiatric work of all time. also help yourself to a super-yummy nutella thingy."

people started booing and telling us to leave, but we said we wouldn't leave until they heard our message, and they said they didn't want to hear our message, and we told them they were being prideful, and they shouted a bunch of words we never learnt at the mtc. then a man stood up and motioned to the crowd to be silent. he wore a red and white horizontally striped shirt and had a white scarf tied around his neck. also he had salt and pepper hair, soulful brown eyes and just the right amount of stubble on his face. can you picture him? if you can, than you must know what immediately popped into my mind. 

you got it! future elders' quorum president!!!!:-)))))

he said: "i am not, too prideful, as you say."

we said: "what is your name, sir?"

he said: "you may call me d'artagnan."

we said: "monsieur d'artagnan, please sit down and hear our message."

he said: "let's go to my flat instead."

we said: "sure!" and followed him down the street. then we said: "sir if there was a living prophet on the earth today you'd like to know about him, wouldn't you?"

he said: "is it this prophet who told you to dress and wear your hair that way?"

we said: "as a matter of fact, yes!"

he said: "is it because of him that you go into nice restaurants and offer people nutella thingies?"

we said: "right again," and followed him down the stairs to the metro station.

he said: "then by all means, tell me where this man lives. i know many people who would like to pay him a visit."

we could barely contain our enthusiasm when we hopped onto the train. then the doors closed and we saw d'artagnan standing  on the platform making a gesture that in america is considered profane, but here in france only means good-bye. -- it's one of the first things they taught us at the mtc. :-)))))) hahahaha


so as you can see, comp and i are working as hard as we can to save france from satan's evil grip. please keep sending care packages, it takes a lot to sustain our testimonies. also we've run out of nutella. hahaha :-)))) lol lol lol 


love to all of you :-))))


elder young


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Don't Just Sit There, Stand For Something!

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Ward Mission Leader, H. LaVar Turley
Subject: Overcoming excuses about missionary work

When it comes to doing member missionary work, excuses can abound. Here are some common excuses and tips to overcome them:

1. I'm no scriptorian: No problem! Suppose your friend asks, "Where in the Bible does it say anything about Joseph Smith?" -- or -- "Why did Joseph Smith marry other men's wives?" -- or -- "Why didn't blacks get the priesthood until 1978?" A scholar would have a heck of a time answering those questions. But you won't! Fact is, the best representatives of the LDS Church are those who are armed with as little information as possible. So rather than bother with a bunch of boring research, realize the strength of your position, shake off your friend's silly questions, and invite him out to the next super yummy pot luck.

2. I can't risk a friendship: Some think that talking about religion may ruin a friendship. True friends respect the things we believe. They may not agree, but that doesn't mean they mind being preached at, shown the error of their ways, and called to repentance. Anyone who objects to that is not a true friend, and anyway, why would you even have a non-member friend in the first place?

3. My neighbors have already heard it: That may be, but the Lord prepares people in their circumstance, not just their location. Who knows? Since you last talked, your neighbor may have lost a loved one, been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, caught his wife in bed with his business partner, or suffered some other calamity that has left him so confused and vulnerable he'll sign on to any crazy scheme you throw his way. Now's your chance!

4. My house is -- fill in the blank -- a mess, noisy, not conducive to the Spirit:  Elder Ballard said,

"Creating a gospel-sharing home means inviting our friends and neighbors into the ongoing flow of family and church activities." 

A few months ago, we invited our neighbors over to enjoy some of my wife's famous nut loaf, along with our everyday  family camaraderie. Our eldest Tommy spent the better part of evening in the shower, moaning. Tessie had just started her period, and banged on the bathroom door until he finally dried off and let her in. Timmy magnified his calling as future missionary by lecturing the Mayfields about all the wine bottles he's seen in their recycle. As usual, Teddy sat around and did nothing. But that little rascal, Toby, caused a flurry of joyous pandemonium when he snuck into the garage, got a hold of my chainsaw, and started to slice the coffee table in half. Meanwhile Terry entertained everybody with adorable questions like, "Why are Mrs. Smith's ankles so fat?" and "Why is that noise always coming out of Mr. and Mrs. Mayfield's bedroom window?" Suffice to say, we had a great time, nobody was seriously injured, and our neighbors were able to see what we stand for in the natural flow of being in our home.

Finally, the most common excuse church members use for avoiding missionary work is:

5. I'm afraid: Fair enough. I can understand that. The first time I had sex with my wife I was terrified. Now . . . I still am. But I don't let fear stop me and neither should you!

The church is true!

If you would like to stop receiving these e-mails, we'll send Sister Turley over to scare the crap out of you.

Musings From The Mission Field

To: abbottsville fourth ward
From: elder young, france paris mission
Subject: bon jour from the mission field!!!!

hey abbottsville fourth!!!!

first off, thanks all of you for your letters and care packages, especially the ones with the rice krispy treats and chocolate covered gummy bears!! my comp says i have the best ward ever!!! 

we were bummed this morning when we learnt that Monsieur Blanc's physician isn't ready to discharge him from the asylum, so he can't be baptized until febuary. 

but then my comp reminded me again that we were in gay par-ee, and we should be gay!!! hahaha (btw, i totally knew that by gay he meant happy, and he knew i knew that btw.) hahaha :-))))


so comp and i went to the park and looked for people to share our message with. most were in a hurry and too prideful to stop, but every once in a while we came across some folks who were eating a meal, or reading, or hugging and kissing, and we'd sit down and quote scripture to them. :-))) still we weren't achieving the kind of statistical success Heavenly Father and our mission president expect.

so we hopped on our bikes and road over to the Loover, where we saw a ginormous amount of people going inside. comp and i thought, ohmiheck, if we only had the admission price, we could probably convert hundreds! :-)))) so we said a little prayer, then waited for an answer and when nothing happened we sighed and road away, then all at once hit the brakes when we saw the exact amount of euros we needed to get into the Loover just lying out on this little bistro table. hahaha :-))))

ohmiheck it was a sign!

so we took the money, paid the admission and wandered around until we saw 2 hot american girls looking at a painting of a completely naked man!!  =-0  comp and i ran over and blocked their view. they got mad and told us to go away, and we told them we had an important message for them, and they said they didn't want our message, and we told them they were being prideful, and they said they weren't, and we said they were, and they asked why we wouldn't move aside so they could see the works of Michael Angelo, and we said because ours were more impressive than his, and they slapped us.

when our faces stopped stinging the 2 hot american girls had disappeared. so comp and i went around jumping in front of other paintings until people agreed to hear our message. :-))) this worked pretty well until we got to the Mona Lisa and the guards pulled us aside and called the police. (btw, Mona isn't really that much of a hottie, she looks kinda like this horse-faced sister missionary who wears that same stuck-up expression on her face whenever she sees me and comp coming. hahaha :-))))

after that, it was kind of a blur. first comp and i tried to share our message with the guards, but they were way grumpy, so we sang the popcorn popping on the apricot tree song until they covered their ears and closed their eyes just long enough for us to slip past, only the gendarmes appeared, aimed their guns, and ordered us to freeze. 


first comp and i asked if we could share a message with them, when that didn't work we raised our right arms to the square and ordered them to leave by the power of our holy priesthood, when that didn't work, we ran. 


the gendarmes came after us, and we sped up, and they sped up, and pretty soon we were in a super-cool chase scene like the one in the Fugitive, only instead of being innocent doctors, we were righteous and exemplary representatives of the lds church, which made us way cooler than Harrison Ford. our race through the Loover went on for idk how long -- maybe an hour. then finally the gendarmes' way was blocked when comp and i accidentally knocked over this urn thingy. (it's ok, i'm pretty sure we only dented it. :-)))


comp and i walked back to our apartment this afternoon feeling like the spiritual giants that Heavenly Father intended His servants to be. we humbly prayed that tomorrow He might leave us more money at the bistro so that we can tract out the museydeorsay! hahahaha :-)))  


please keep sending care packages, it takes a lot to sustain our testimonies. also a couple of those paris museum passes would be cool. hahaha :-))))


love to all of you :-))))


elder young

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And don't forget to vote in the Brodie Awards. Polls close Saturday, January 22, 21:00 GMT

Musings From The Mission Field

To: abbottsville fourth ward
From: elder young, france paris mission
Subject: bon jour from the mission field!!!!

hey abbottsville fourth!!!!

first off, thanks all of you for your letters and care packages!! especially Sister Renfro for the super yummy fudge bombs, and mom for my favorite monster cookies with the extra chocolate chunks and gummy bears. my comp says i have the best ward ever!!!

we were bummed at the beginning of the week when we learnt that Madame Muzet's felony court sentencing date has been moved back so she can't be baptized until december. but then my comp reminded me that we were in gay par-ee, and we should be gay!!! lol (btw, by gay he meant happy, and I totally knew that by gay he meant happy, btw.)

so we put on our happy faces and rode our bikes over to Noter Dame to pass out pamphlets. at first nobody would take them, then comp and i started sticking them anywhere we could, like in people's bags, or under their armpits. comp even managed to slip one down the back of this guy's pants!!! lol sometimes people got all mad and threw them on the ground, but comp and i figured that was ok cause then the wind would just blow them all over france!!!     :-)))))

then this super cool guy rides up on his bike and introduces himself as Henri in ENGLISH!!! :-))))) he said he needed practice speaking and reading english. So right off we offered him the greatest work in the english language, The Book of Mormon!!!!! :-))))) He said he didn't want to read it, and I said yes he did, and he said no he didn't. i said have you ever red it? and he said no, and i said that he was being prideful and judging something he hadn't even red, and he said he didn't care, but he ended up taking it when comp tried to stuff it under his armpit. lol

we asked him if we could schedule an appointment to teach him, and he said he didn't want to be taught anything and got on his bike and road off. we knew he was just being prideful, so we got on our bikes and followed him. he speeded up, then we speeded up and pretty soon comp and i were in this super cool chase scene like in the Born Identity, only instead being CIA assassins, we were valiant warriors for the Lord, which made us way cooler than Matt Damon. i was amazed at how good the french drivers and pedestrians were at swerving to avoid our bicycles! just like in the movies!! :-))))) thanks to them we were able to stay on Henri's tail for idk how long, maybe an hour. then the chase came to an end when the handle of my scripture case hooked onto a rack at one of those outdoor book stalls and sent a gazillion antique postcards flying into the Sane River.

comp and i were kind of bummed after that, but we kept up our spirits and passed out more pamphlets to people who were either prideful or ignerant or downright satanic. this one old lady even pushed me down with her walker. i took it in stride. as a messanger of the Lord i realized that i have been blessed with more spiritual maturity and therefore must practice tolerence.

when we ran out of pamphlets we wandered over to a cafe to check the menu and who do you think we saw sitting at a table with a glass of wine? Henri!!!! :-)))))

we parked our bikes, grabbed a couple of chairs and joined him at his table. Henri covered his face with his hands and begged us to leave. i launched into the lesson while comp emptied the wine glass into a plant. then i remembered that the manual said that before each lesson we were supposed to get the investigator to pray, so i stopped and asked Henri to say a word of prayer, and he said no way, and i told him the manual said he had to, and he said he wouldn't, and i said he was being prideful. meanwhile the other people in the restaurant started to complain and this guy in an apron ran out and told us to leave. we told him we wouldn't leave until Henri prayed. the guy in the apron muttered some french words comp and i never learnt at the MTC and disappeared. then Henri bowed his head and said a short prayer that wasn't very revrent, but was a good enough start, and we stood to leave.

then 2 guys in aprons came out, each carrying a strawberry tart. only, instead of serving them to a table, they smooshed them into me and comp's faces. comp and i scraped the tarts off of our faces and into our bicycle helmets which we then used as bowls to eat out of. it's a technique we've developed by experience. french food is amazingly good, and it's surprising how often we get it for free like this!!! lol

on the way home we were kind of bummed when we saw that some of the strawberry cream filling had gotten all over our jackets and we didn't have any money to have them cleaned. then we realized the stains were really badges of honor -- like all battle scars heroes bring back from war -- and we wore them with pride!!!! :-)))))

please keep sending the letters and especially the care packages. my comp's from idaho, and all he ever gets are rice krispie treats and his mom's homemade fruit leather -- barely enough to sustain our testimonies.

love to all of you!!!!! :-)))))

elder young
france, paris misssion







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It's Relief Society Book Club Time!

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward

From: Susan Renfro, Ward Relief Society President

Subject: September Book Club Meeting

Dear Sisters,

Please choose from the following titles:

Go Sit in the Corner

for women

Latter-day Saint sisters can prepare for another interesting read this September with the choice of the following titles from Go Sit in the Corner for women.

Nephi and Sariah's Excellent Adventure

by

C. Gordon Young, Ph.D

When seventeen year old fraternal twins Nephi and Sariah Price discover a portal in the bottom of their grandpa's potato cellar, they swirl back in time to Book of Mormon days. Armed with only their testimonies and Nephi's Liahona decoder ring, they navigate a maze of wicked kings, stripling warriors, secret combinations, and a few harlots. Will our hero and heroine's Jaredite barge ever resurface? Will they win the tapir-drawn chariot race? Will they ever get through all of Second Nephi? Read this sword-wielding, sling-hurling page turner to find out.

The Mormon Urban Renewal Project

by

Dallin McConkie Smoot Richards II

Two LDS missionaries are sent to the south side of Chicago where they tract out a block that is frequented by crack dealers. The elders compete with the dealers by selling incredibly awesome Rice Krispies Treats they've created by combining their moms' recipes. The crack dealers go broke, the missionaries get rich, and everyone on the block joins the church. Devoting themselves to the gospel, the new members remove their tattoos, listen to Glen Beck, sell Amway, and pledge money to end gay marriage in California. As a result the entire block turns white! They put up picket fences, decorate their yards with garden gnomes, and petition the Chicago zoning office to transform a nearby abandoned school into a Costco Club.

Pride or Paycheck

by

Tisha Sweet

LDS English girl, Elizabeth Smith, is not yet one and twenty, and not in want of a husband. Indeed, nobody at the Hertfordshire Stake Singles' Ball could tempt her. Certainly not that snob from Salt Lake City, Rulon Parmenter. What nerve he has, arriving late, refusing to dance, and flaunting his upper class East Bench accent. Then her friend Charlotte tells her he's a flight attendant for Delta Airlines. Blimey! That's a real job! ... Could it be that Elizabeth has found her Brother Darcy?

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At 53 He's Still Happy, Healthy, and Ex-Mormon -- Don't You Hate That?

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Donna Banta
Subject: Happy Birthday, Honey!

Mark Steven Banta was born March 22, 1957 in San Jose, California, where he was raised Mormon in a loving home. The son of a school teacher, every summer he and his sisters were treated to camping trips across the U.S. and Canada. Mark's family also attended an LDS ward that provided him with a comfort zone of good friends and exemplary role models. He worked hard, excelling in school, sports and church, where he was the president of all three of his Aaronic Priesthood Quorums. At 18 he opted to attend BYU on an academic scholarship. It was the only school he applied to. Then, at 19, he agreed to serve an LDS mission. The Church sent him across the globe to Indonesia, to what would be a transformational event in his life.

Many LDS returned missionaries recall negative experiences. Doors slammed in their faces, guilt over lack of converts, pressure to convert everyone, strange companions, illness, filthy living conditions, etc. Mark had none of this. His was the "dream mission." It began in the Missionary Training Center when in a general meeting, President Max "The Ax" Pinegar pointed to the seven Indonesian missionaries, ordered them to stand, then to the other Elders' envy and disgust declared, "These are the only missionaries allowed out without suit coats." (This announcement was followed by a commotion of scared boys putting on their jackets.) Mark later learned that Indonesian law did not permit him to tract door to door. Also he was required to take two week-long trips to Singapore to renew his visa, where his only requirement was to "stay out of trouble." His housing included a housekeeper and cook, and he had a laid back mission president who didn't care about statistics. Basically Mark spent his mission sight-seeing, chatting people up, bashing around Singapore, and committing various missionary faux-pas such as flirting with the local girls, ogling a smuggled copy of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition, and wading in the Indian Ocean. (Satan rules the waters, you know.) Once he and a companion sat behind the gamelan during a performance of The Ramayana, an experience he insists everyone should have. In retrospect, Mark wishes that he'd gone to Indonesia to study Javanese culture rather than to teach people about Joseph Smith. He also wishes he could have dressed more appropriately (no suit coats notwithstanding), and that he hadn't spent 3+ hours in church every Sunday. Nevertheless, Mark's mission, coupled with his childhood travels, left him with a hunger to see and experience a world far beyond the confines of Mormonism.

After Indonesia, he returned to BYU, and all of its scintillating social venues. For a couple of years, he bore down on his accounting books and generally avoided the dating scene. Finally his father sent him a check, along with the instruction to spend it on a date with a nice girl. The "nice girl" he selected happened to be me, a sarcastic convert from Southern California with a growing disenchantment with Mormonism and religion in general. We married in the Oakland Temple on December 27, 1980. Mark's little sister waited outside, along with my mother and my close friends, as they were not deemed worthy to witness the secret ceremony. Then we started a family, and did our best to "stay close to the church."

Mark had long been concerned with my complaints about the faith. But as our children began to come of age, he grew more aware of the patriarchal nature of Mormonism, its innate racism and homophobia, and the anti-intellectual message it conveyed. Also the personal demands seemed unreasonable. He wasn't sure he wanted his daughter marrying at 18, or his son serving a mission at 19. (Not everyone gets to go without a suit coat.) Like many who have posted on Recovery from Mormonism, Mark's dissatisfaction with Mormon culture led him to a deeper study of its doctrine and origins, and finally to the conclusion that it was not the right place for him and his family. Losing one's faith is never easy, particularly within a system like Mormonism, where those who leave are often shunned by family and friends. Mark was disappointed by many he admired, pleasantly surprised by a few.

Since then Mark has spent his Sundays enjoying family and friends, going to a movie or the beach, sitting in a cafe in Paris, exploring Manhattan's Central Park, drinking a pint in a London pub, or hanging out with Post-Mormons at the San Francisco Ferry Building. He swelled with pride when he watched his son and daughter receive their college diplomas, something he feared might not happen had they been raised as Mormons. Then he shed a tear at the wedding of our son, which he attended along with me, his little sister, and all the family and close friends who could be there. -- Something he's fairly certain would not have occurred had we remained in Mormonism.

My dear friends from the Abbottsville Fourth Ward, please do not drop by with cakes, casseroles and a birthday message from The Ensign. As always, I am serving his requested dinner, this year Boeuf Bourguignon, and a good bottle of wine. That is, unless you have a nice tawny port -- his favorite pairing with The Ensign.

Happy Birthday Honey!