Some prior threads are here:
http://exmormon.org/phorum/read.php?2,1574974http://exmormon.org/phorum/read.php?2,1572983Holy tomatoes, Batman! My head is spinning faster than I knew was possible!! Really, my very first ever visit to a Sacrament Meeting today (and F&T no less) was a cross-cultural experience like no other. And keep in mind that I’ve lived at 25 different addresses in virtually every corner of America, and done business on four continents, plus travelled the world for pleasure.
My last meeting with the sister missionaries was Thursday, three days ago. During that time I threw them a softball opportunity to invite me to church since they weren’t getting it done on their own. They explained a little bit about what to expect at F&T. I skipped the two meals prior to meeting time so as not to miss out on the full experience.
Even though it’s just three blocks from my house, I drove to the ward building (or whatever you call it) arriving about 10 minutes before the hour. The parking lot was already loaded with cars, but nowhere near full. There was no stream of cars entering the lot, nor was there a stream of people on foot making their way from the parking lot to the building.
From my car I sent a text message to the sisters to let them know which door I was coming in, hoping to find them sooner rather than later once inside the building. That worked out as hoped; I only had to greet one person holding the exterior door open and one other in the lobby before I was officially being escorted and formally introduced.
At one point, one of the sisters asked if I wanted to attend Gospel Principles or Gospel Doctrine during the second hour. They had already responded to my much earlier text asking for the chapter numbers, so I already knew what would be taught in each. I asked to push that decision back until the end of SM.
There is no way I could possibly tell you how many people the sisters introduced me to, plus others who simply stepped up and gave me a quick greeting. Being deeply introverted, and socially unskilled as a young person, it was gratifying to me to have navigated that gauntlet as effortlessly as I did. As another poster recently said, when in doubt, smile and nod. How hard can it be?
One lady shook my hand, but stared at me for a brief awkward moment before asking why she felt like she recognized me. I vaguely recognized her also and posited that her daughter and my daughter had known each other in middle school ten years ago. We decided that must be it and on we went.
The sisters guided me to an empty pew three rows back from the front on the left (far) side of the room. I had actually hoped to be further back so as to have a better view of the other people. Oh, well.
Sr comp led the way, then Jr comp, then me, so I ended up seated next to Jr comp whom I genuinely like. I think she might be what is euphemistically called a ‘sweet spirit’; a young woman who, based on looks alone, is not competitive in the Mormon race to a temple marriage. But setting that aside, as I prefer to do, I find her to be incredibly delightful precisely because she's not so controlled and scripted.
Her blog, the one she doesn’t keep per our prior conversation (see second link above, and maybe link through to the second prior thread), says she is a college grad. But she seems much younger to me. Maybe that’s a Mormon thing, or maybe I’m just getting so old that even adults seem like children now.
The Sr comp on the other hand always seems to me like the Barbie doll at the end of Toy Story 2 (I hope I’m remembering this cultural reference correctly) who waits until the credits are rolling before complaining about how painful it is to hold her face in a smile for so long. I’m trying to like her, but it’s not easy. I may eventually try the direct approach on her: letting her know that it’s OK to be more real with me. Not sure how to do that without making a mess of it.
I wasn’t taking notes of the service, so if I obviously get things out of order, so be it. Things started promptly at the top of the hour with a brief welcome and a few announcements including that the bishop was out of town. Then we proceeded to the first hymn which I commented on in the first link above.
There were two hymnals to share among the three of us, so Jr comp handed one book to Sr comp, and then Jr comp and I shared, each holding our side of the book. Not knowing that I’m well trained in music, an amateur composer actually, I took her by surprise when I sang along in harmony on key just from sight reading, although having the organist playing helped a lot.
Before long we were into the passing of the sacrament which I chose to decline to take. It just didn’t seem appropriate since it had been introduced as an opportunity to renew vows which I have never taken. Listening to the young boys recite the prayers – they sounded rote to me – and move around the auditorium (chapel, whatever you call it) in formation made it clear that they’ve done this before, many times.
Finally, the part I was eagerly waiting for began: the testimonies. This segment was introduced as a time for bearing testimony of Christ plus the logistics of how long to take and when the segment would be over. Thirty minutes was allotted altogether. It had only been fifteen minutes before I started watching the clock wondering when it would be over. (Are we there yet?)
There was only one cursory mention of Jesus outside of the standard and hurried testimony conclusion. And plenty of choked up speakers letting the tears flow freely. Several speakers were Mormons visiting from out of town.
During the testimonies I sneaked a few peeks at the audience as best I could discretely. Woah! Snoozefest!! Except for the young children, who I actually couldn’t see, but definitely could hear. I suppose if you attend SM all the time you get used to the constant, and fairly loud, background child noise. I was already struggling to hear what with the acoustics of the room. Add children and I know I was missing a few words here and there.
There were no parents at the front whispering into the ears of their small children, so I didn’t get to experience the comfort of knowing da chuch is twoo. Drat.
Another hymn and a prayer, I think, and we were mercifully done with that. At this point I asked the missionaries if we could go to Gospel Principles. We had to search for a while to find a small empty room where we were joined by three couples, older folks like myself. Over time I learned that two of the men were converts. One described himself as a dry Mormon (the sisters translated this for me) for his first ten years.
What an obvious setup! They had me eight to one in a very controlled environment. No worries for me though. As I quipped to them at one point, and now to you, the universe is my comfort zone. Obvious, yes, but smooth. Like everybody knew exactly what to do, what to say, how to say it. Maybe even what to think and how to think it. It was easy to see how someone with no significant knowledge of Christianity or religious history could get swept into mindless agreement.
Through most of it I kept my mouth shut, only asking clarifying questions. Well, there was a little chit-chat as we were settling in, but that was little more than the usual smile and nod. The lady that had recognized me earlier, and I her, was there with her husband. She was the only woman who spoke freely. The other two – come to think of it, I don’t think either of them said anything of substance.
Anyway, it was chapter 17, The Church of Jesus Christ Today. We covered the Great Apostasy, the First Vision, and then the discussion broke away from the book into free form, leaving the sisters to mostly just watch and listen. I was taking notes. The word ‘authority’ was used frequently.
As I sensed we were getting near the end of our time, I decided to go ahead and jump in, yet tread very lightly so as not to burn any bridges. In the context of a discussion of personal revelation, my question was this simple one: how do you know the difference between the Spirit speaking to you, and your own inner voice talking to yourself?
The oldest man present – and I think I addressed my question directly to him based on context – gave the answer. It meandered about, but finally came down to ‘you just know’. I know because of the feeling. With that we were out of time, and I was just as happy not to pursue it any further.
The man sitting next to me asked if I would be joining them at Priesthood. Regrettably (maybe?) I had to go across town to pick up my son as arranged long in advance.
The sisters walked out with me to the parking lot and eagerly asked the obvious question: what did I think about it all? Honestly, I was completely overwhelmed with cross-cultural overload. We agreed that they would call me tomorrow to set up another meeting.
Having figured out the obvious setup mentioned earlier, I confirmed it by asking the sisters to thank the couples for me for stepping out of their routine just for me. They assured me they would pass along the message. Yep, that was not a scheduled class with regular attenders, but was entirely impromptu for everyone involved.
By the time I was free to walk across the parking lot toward my car I was WAY ready to be out of my dress shirt and tie, and away from the near explosion going on in my head. Damn. Being among Mormons is HARD. I now have a MUCH better appreciation for your stories that I read here. If ever I have dismissed you lightly, or said anything insulting that reflects my prior ignorance, you have my most sincere apology right here, right now. In writing, in triplicate.
And I say these things in the … yikes, it’s contagious. Reset, reset, reset!
JAR