The Morman Invasion

Christ’s salesmen marched down my driveway this evening just before sunset. Their visit was the first such visit I can remember having since I moved to Maine 11 years ago, and I was at a loss for a reaction. The length of the driveway and the obvious attire gave me just a couple of moments to consider how to politely tell them just how stubborn my personal beliefs are. Having spent most of the day alone, I decided a conversation couldn’t hurt.

Elder Allen; a stocky college-aged blond and blue from Idaho, and Elder Thyle a Doogie Howser look-alike from Utah, introduced themselves as members of the Mormon Church and got to work addressing the issue of my religious identity. Their fleeting posture and weary faces suggested they had had plenty of abuse from drunken locals on this Saturday evening. My own appearance was a little frazzled from an hour long epic through the same woods I got lost in last year (see “Lost in the Woods” and “Lost in the Woods: Part Two”). Blood dripped from a nasty scratch on my leg and sweat clung to my grimy brow. I stood a solid foot taller than the both of them, and I sense their unease with the visit.

After a brief introduction of my agnostic yet admiring stance on religion of all origins, I offered my ears and time to their crusade. The sales pitch was very similar to that of any other, starting with the traditional “things can be better than they are”. Their short-sleeved dress shirts and TJ Maxx ties only reinforced the feeling of a sales pitch. They were good at what they were doing. They used hypnotic eye contact and slowly delivered confidence in their attempt to convince me that indeed there is a 95 year old prophet of God living out in Salt Lake.

Elder Allen did most of the talking, and addressed my interest in the history of Mormonism with elaborate detail and whimsical tales. Elder Thyle (AKA Doogie) was far more the generalist, opting to speak in passages and unspecific “feel good” statements. They used the words of popular culture to infiltrate my apprehensive curiosity of the subject. The term “fellowship” was used several times in awkward sequence, subliminally suggesting that I might live in The Shire and have Elfin allies if I would take a copy of their book. I was genuinely interested in what they had to say, and talked for an hour before Tia came racing into the driveway with the iPod blasting something furious.

Although I doubt I will ever find myself spiritually affiliated with any religion, the visit made me realize a few things about myself and about religion.

Number one: I, like many people in this polarized America, generally consider firm religious conviction to be a social handicap, and often avoid the subject. My theory is that the story of most major religions is in direct conflict with popular reason, and trying to believe in such fables is just too Santa Claus for many of us (who turned out to be a total farce!).

Number two: Those people who embrace religion, more specifically; Christianity, have very similar interests in the topic –mainly, there’s a bright light at the end of this often-dark tunnel and the more deeply entrenched they are in their church, the safer they are from the murderous pagans who roam the forest.

Number three: The world has had more wars in the name of religion than any other subject. The 2nd coming is the only thing that can substantiate the ancient claims of western religion, uniting man, and finally putting to rest all those other whack-brain beliefs over there in Saudi Iraqastan.

Number four: Christianity is a great thing for a lot of people, and helped many folks cope with life on this cold marble. It’s what brings a lot of people together on even the coldest Sundays for an hour or two of reassurance and moral warmth.

Religion simply doesn’t work for me and my science; however, I feel that my own personal morals are strong enough to project the same love and respect at the core of most religions.