A
Amaris
Guest
The words she knows, the tune she hums.
So they're Mormons? Those are the worst.![]()
Yay! I've been waiting to see if anybody would get that.
The words she knows, the tune she hums.
Little point: I don't think they care. Their religion require them to spread the word, so they do. It's not about saving other's souls, it's about managing their own.I really want to see statistics on how many people they actually manage to convert.
Last time they made the recruiting rounds, they showed up while I was greasing the rear-end and flushing the car's transmission. Nice white shirts....
I was real friendly, shaking hands, patting them on the back, opening their car's door for them.
It's good to hear you were nice to them. I think I remember you mentioning it at the time. I spent 2 years in England doing as a missionary, and it amuses me to hear of all the stories people are telling here. I experienced pretty much every story told here, or at least a variation of it. I really appreciated it when I would meet someone like you with whom I could have a nice conversation, whether they were interested or not. Such people were only a small portion of those I met, but it was nice when it did happen.Well, I realize they annoy quite a few people, but the well intentioned and polite ones I don't hold any grudge against. The two young men who visited us a few years back were of the Mormon variety, and so they asked to come inside and I nodded and let them in. I offered them lemonade (no caffeine). They gladly accepted. We talked for a while, and I got to know these young men. One of them was studying to be a Biologist. The other wanted to be a folk singer. I got out my guitar and let him play a few songs. He was quite good. After about two hours, I had learned a great deal about them, and I understood why they were doing what they were doing and bless their hearts they lived in a single room with two beds, the very basics, and every morning like clockwork they were up and out the door, and I had to admire the level of dedication they had. I certainly wasn't going to accept their beliefs as my own, but I couldn't help but admire their effort, and not once were they impolite. I think, even though I'm sure they left disappointed that I wasn't going to convert, they seemed to have had a good time.
From time to time I wonder about them and hope they were able to get started on their goals in life.
Wouldn't have so "friendly" had they not been from the church up the road* and one of them hadn't kicked me hard in the leg as I was under the car to get my attention.Last time they made the recruiting rounds, they showed up while I was greasing the rear-end and flushing the car's transmission. Nice white shirts....
I was real friendly, shaking hands, patting them on the back, opening their car's door for them.
Dude, seriously -- I want to party with you. Especially if you're a fellow gearhead. Want to work on some classic VWs with me?
Well, you're wrong there. For most, it really is about saving souls, not just a duty. Sorry, but religious duty is not enough of a motivating factor to get all that many young people to leave everyone they know, put their lives on hold for two years, and spend lots of their own money to go work 70 hours a week trying to teach the Gospel to people who (for the most part, anyway) don't want to hear it.Little point: I don't think they care. Their religion require them to spread the word, so they do. It's not about saving other's souls, it's about managing their own.I really want to see statistics on how many people they actually manage to convert.
It's good to hear you were nice to them. I think I remember you mentioning it at the time. I spent 2 years in England doing as a missionary, and it amuses me to hear of all the stories people are telling here. I experienced pretty much every story told here, or at least a variation of it. I really appreciated it when I would meet someone like you with whom I could have a nice conversation, whether they were interested or not. Such people were only a small portion of those I met, but it was nice when it did happen.Well, I realize they annoy quite a few people, but the well intentioned and polite ones I don't hold any grudge against. The two young men who visited us a few years back were of the Mormon variety, and so they asked to come inside and I nodded and let them in. I offered them lemonade (no caffeine). They gladly accepted. We talked for a while, and I got to know these young men. One of them was studying to be a Biologist. The other wanted to be a folk singer. I got out my guitar and let him play a few songs. He was quite good. After about two hours, I had learned a great deal about them, and I understood why they were doing what they were doing and bless their hearts they lived in a single room with two beds, the very basics, and every morning like clockwork they were up and out the door, and I had to admire the level of dedication they had. I certainly wasn't going to accept their beliefs as my own, but I couldn't help but admire their effort, and not once were they impolite. I think, even though I'm sure they left disappointed that I wasn't going to convert, they seemed to have had a good time.
From time to time I wonder about them and hope they were able to get started on their goals in life.
Here's a breakdown of the kind of people one meets going door to door: A few are like you--willing to have a nice conversation and learn about each other's beliefs, but not interested in actually converting.. Most politely say "no, thank you", or I'm not interested" and it's over in a few seconds with no one's time wasted. A few others are actually interested in learning more and perhaps converting. And then there's the small group who is the most entertaining--those who come up with stories like those told here. You might think that missionaries are offended by such antics, and some certainly are, but most have seen it all before and it becomes something of a game to collect the most outrageous stories. I still have my favorites that I tell when the topic comes up in conversation, though I have forgotten most by now.
BTW, missionaries (at least Mormon ones), don't spend much time knocking on doors. It's about the least effective thing they can do, so it's what they do when they don't have anyone to teach or visit. It's mostly a waste of time, but it's better than doing nothing. Axiom, you mentioned a little about their schedule and the way they live. You're right, most missionaries live in a small apartment or they live in a room with some members in the area. They work long hours (typically about 70 hours/week). It's a rather demanding lifestyle which takes a lot of commitment to do. Oh, and most missionaries spend about $10,000 for the two years.
Then what it is? Love and generosity to give people something they don't want? They do it because it makes them feel good about themselves. Why would they do it otherwise, since it's pretty obvious most people don't care or are downright annoyed by their intrusion?Well, you're wrong there. For most, it really is about saving souls, not just a duty. Sorry, but religious duty is not enough of a motivating factorLittle point: I don't think they care. Their religion require them to spread the word, so they do. It's not about saving other's souls, it's about managing their own.
Well, I'm not surprised to hear that it's easier to convert wretched poor people when you put a loaf of bread or a much-needed medicine under their nose.The numbers for a given missionary vary a lot depending on the area, of course. In mainland Europe, for example, a missionary might only teach 1 or 2 converts in their whole two years, while someone in South America might teach 20 in a month.
I nicked something, short something, I have no clue cause something discharged into my arm and knocked me flat from the shock. I was on the gravel lot, gasping to breath, clawing at my chest cause my heart felt like it was on fire and pounding so hard that it hurt. The fucker looks down at me and say "See, that's God telling you to attend our church." He left me on the gravel for the whole 15 minutes or so it took to get my wits; the whole time giving me a sermon and trying to get me to accept Jesus, didn't call 911 or anything. Thankfully I had a cell on me and managed to stumble back into the car to call someone to come out and help me.
We use essential cookies to make this site work, and optional cookies to enhance your experience.