If you were to ask someone who isn't a church member what their first impression is when they think about the Mormons, you would probably find many whose first response goes something like this: “Aren't they those young guys who go around knocking on doors, trying to talk about religion?”
This process of “knocking on doors” has an official name – tracting. While known by other names as well (bloc-knocking in Romania was my favorite), the action is the same. Missionaries fill their time going from door-to-door, seeking anybody who might be willing to listen to what they have to say.
I'll cut right to the chase. In most cases, tracting is a complete waste of time. In many cases, it may end up being more detrimental than helpful to missionary work.
True, in some cultures, it isn't strange to invite in a stranger who has come to your door, no matter their reason. Many former missionaries who served in parts of Latin America, or in nations close to the Middle East which have been heavily influenced by the well-known above-and-beyond hospitality of the Arab world, know this to be the case.
Others have been in places where there is no door-to-door culture whatsoever, such as in Russia, where I was a missionary. There, nobody comes to the door unexpectedly. Moreover, the Communist history has fostered an understandable distrust for strange men in suits who suddenly appear at one's door. Nine times out of ten, the door wouldn't even open. Individuals would simply peek through the peephole, then slip back into their home without a word.
So, as I was saying, in most places of the world, I believe tracting is all but useless. Moreover, if you read official missionary literature distributed by Church leaders, you'll find that they too have counseled against excessive tracting. In a satellite broadcast in 1999, President Gordon B. Hinckley said: “So many of us look upon missionary work as simply tracting. Everyone who is familiar with this work knows there is a better way.” As a tool for finding people who are interested in religion, tracting is simply a statistically ineffective method.
Why is it so ineffective? I'll let the master of human behavior, Jerry Seinfeld, explain that one. Remember that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry gets a sales call, then offers to call the salesperson back at home? “We're not allowed to do that,” the salesperson says. “Oh, I guess don't want people calling you at home?” Jerry replies. “No,” the salesman says. Then comes Seinfeld's infamous comeback: “Well now you know how I feel.” People don't feel control over the situation when somebody comes into their personal space unasked and tries to impose their opinions on them, no matter how sincere the intent.
Yet, there are still many missionaries who tract hours upon hours each day. Some missions even have rules that missionaries must tract a certain number of hours per day or per week. Such a notion makes little sense to me.
Giving thought to tracting over the years, I have determined that there are only one really valuable result that comes from it. Tracting can be a great way to help build confidence in young missionaries. I only tracted a handful of times as a missionary, most during my first few months. This practice did indeed help me conquer certain fears. Nevertheless, it didn't take tracting hours out of every day of my mission to get the desired effect.
Some missionaries who are “super-tracters” feel that their hours of tracting translates into diligence. This too, I believe, is a fallacy of the mind. While they may be harder workers than the missionary who does nothing, I feel that tracting itself is usually becomes a subtle form of laziness itself, disguised as hard work. One feels diligent while tracting, but truly, this repetitive action doesn't take much mental effort once you get into the rhythm of how it is done. A short introduction is memorized, and recited at every door. Missionaries learn quickly to brush off rejection, and it becomes the expected outcome. As a result, missionaries spend hours feeling they are hard at work but without accomplishing anything at all, except perhaps annoying people. Does tracting really help spread the Gospel?
In the long run, I suggest that an effort be made to encourage missionaries to see tracting as an optional activity, only to be used in special circumstances. I suggest that an effort be made to help missionaries disassociate tracting as being the “default” method of missionary work. This will encourage missionaries to focus on more effective methods of missionary work, as well as improve the overall image of the Church.
Any thoughts on the matter? And while we're discussing, be sure to share any hilarious tracting stories.
DISCLAIMER:
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Saturday, October 31, 2009
The Mormon Missionary Part IV: The Glorious MTC (2 of 2)
Last week, I spoke of struggles faced during my time in the MTC. Learning to cope with an environment where “serving the Lord” took on extreme definitions in the minds of some, led me to question my purpose for being there.
I was a fairly new member of the Church. Even growing up among Mormons in Utah, I had only attended church activities for two years when I embarked on my mission. I was the only practicing Mormon in my family, and was still growing accustomed to my new life as a Mormon.
Nevertheless, more than a year prior to leaving on a mission, I found a strong desire to do just that. For several months prior to departure, missionary service was my primary goal in life, and I was determined to see two years consecrated to spiritual activity.
Being in the MTC, and dealing with its associated trails, caused me to truly question whether I had made the proper choice. I had – though that realization didn't come at once. It came as the MTC yielded a number of life-changing experiences. I share just a few.
Sometime during my first few days at the compound, then First Counselor Thomas S. Monson paid a surprise visit. Missionaries by the thousands flocked to the largest meeting hall, to hear the leader's sermon. He spoke of the influence of missionary work on families. His words were so powerful, that they cultivated a nearly overwhelming sense of gratitude within me, the likes of which I have never felt before. My gratitude was primarily for my parents, as I truly recognized for the first time all the personal effort they had sacrificed on my behalf. Emotion overcame me, and I could not refrain from weeping after his sermon.
I also had some great leaders in the MTC. One, a counselor in our unit presidency, took special interest in me, and went out of his way to share meaningful conversations and experiences. He had a rich background, both academic and ecclesiastical, and I found communicating with him to be mutually uplifting. I remember another unit leader sharing his personal views on our potential successes as missionaries. His words carried conviction more powerful and sincere than I had ever witnessed before. As I walked from the room, I literally felt like I was flying, with such overwhelming happiness swelling within me.
The feelings associated with the Holy Ghost, joy, love, etc., where everywhere. It felt like living in an orchard of low-hanging spiritual fruit to be plucked at leisure. After toiling all day at language study, we would come home tired, treasuring every ounce of sleep, yet even my dreams felt spiritually uplifting and meaningful. At times I awoke during the night, certain I had just learned something valuable and feeling the need to immediately record the thoughts. Recently I re-read some of the written accounts of dreams, and realized how truly significant they have been in my life.
In addition to the feeling of spiritual satisfaction, the MTC was a place for good friends. Despite our youth, inexperience, and at times blatant immaturity, I made true friends for life. Even among some of those whose self-righteous behaviors make me want to vomit in the beginning I found friends. After a few weeks I recognized that they were simply trying to serve in the way they best understood, just as we all were.
The biggest blessing, however, came from being driven to truly discover what I believed about certain points of doctrine. Most specifically, I personally tackled my thoughts on Joseph Smith's calling as a Prophet of God. I realized that I had never really believed this to be true, despite my belief in the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and the divinity of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This was concerning, and led me to read Smith's personal account several times, all the while while asking difficult questions and seeking answers. When the conviction finally came, I felt as if I had reached the summit of a mountain.
So you see, the MTC, though difficult and culturally odd in many ways, was still a wonderful experience, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I am unlikely to face again. Never have nine weeks of my life held more long-term significance than did my time in the Missionary Training Center.
I was a fairly new member of the Church. Even growing up among Mormons in Utah, I had only attended church activities for two years when I embarked on my mission. I was the only practicing Mormon in my family, and was still growing accustomed to my new life as a Mormon.
Nevertheless, more than a year prior to leaving on a mission, I found a strong desire to do just that. For several months prior to departure, missionary service was my primary goal in life, and I was determined to see two years consecrated to spiritual activity.
Being in the MTC, and dealing with its associated trails, caused me to truly question whether I had made the proper choice. I had – though that realization didn't come at once. It came as the MTC yielded a number of life-changing experiences. I share just a few.
Sometime during my first few days at the compound, then First Counselor Thomas S. Monson paid a surprise visit. Missionaries by the thousands flocked to the largest meeting hall, to hear the leader's sermon. He spoke of the influence of missionary work on families. His words were so powerful, that they cultivated a nearly overwhelming sense of gratitude within me, the likes of which I have never felt before. My gratitude was primarily for my parents, as I truly recognized for the first time all the personal effort they had sacrificed on my behalf. Emotion overcame me, and I could not refrain from weeping after his sermon.
I also had some great leaders in the MTC. One, a counselor in our unit presidency, took special interest in me, and went out of his way to share meaningful conversations and experiences. He had a rich background, both academic and ecclesiastical, and I found communicating with him to be mutually uplifting. I remember another unit leader sharing his personal views on our potential successes as missionaries. His words carried conviction more powerful and sincere than I had ever witnessed before. As I walked from the room, I literally felt like I was flying, with such overwhelming happiness swelling within me.
The feelings associated with the Holy Ghost, joy, love, etc., where everywhere. It felt like living in an orchard of low-hanging spiritual fruit to be plucked at leisure. After toiling all day at language study, we would come home tired, treasuring every ounce of sleep, yet even my dreams felt spiritually uplifting and meaningful. At times I awoke during the night, certain I had just learned something valuable and feeling the need to immediately record the thoughts. Recently I re-read some of the written accounts of dreams, and realized how truly significant they have been in my life.
In addition to the feeling of spiritual satisfaction, the MTC was a place for good friends. Despite our youth, inexperience, and at times blatant immaturity, I made true friends for life. Even among some of those whose self-righteous behaviors make me want to vomit in the beginning I found friends. After a few weeks I recognized that they were simply trying to serve in the way they best understood, just as we all were.
The biggest blessing, however, came from being driven to truly discover what I believed about certain points of doctrine. Most specifically, I personally tackled my thoughts on Joseph Smith's calling as a Prophet of God. I realized that I had never really believed this to be true, despite my belief in the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and the divinity of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This was concerning, and led me to read Smith's personal account several times, all the while while asking difficult questions and seeking answers. When the conviction finally came, I felt as if I had reached the summit of a mountain.
So you see, the MTC, though difficult and culturally odd in many ways, was still a wonderful experience, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I am unlikely to face again. Never have nine weeks of my life held more long-term significance than did my time in the Missionary Training Center.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
The Mormon Missionary Part III: The Glorious MTC (1 of 2)
Missionary service began for me on June 5th, 2002, as my family left me at the Provo Missionary Training Center (MTC), some 50 miles south of Salt Lake City, UT. Though I have since traveled the world, having many unique cultural experiences, my 9 weeks spent in the MTC were the most curious of them all.
When swapping MTC experiences with other former missionaries, a common theme inevitably emerges. It is best described by the opening phrase to Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...” Truly, the MTC was one of the most meaningful experiences in my life. Conversely, it was also one of the most personally and spiritually challenging experiences.
After a somewhat awkward and tearful goodbye from my family, where we new missionaries were herded from auditorium as our parents were left alone (my mother later described the cruelty of the moment), I found myself a full-fledged citizen of a world I knew very little about. Though I had my fundamental understanding of the Gospel, not to mention an upbringing in Utah and exposure to Mormon culture, I still felt like a tourist.
Somewhat dazed, I stood in a line, waiting to receive logistical instructions. One new missionary stood in front of me, his new suit perfectly pressed, his hair freshly trimmed. He wore a wide smile across his face, and looked like he was having the greatest experience that he had ever known. I, perhaps, appeared a bit more shocked, or at least wary, of this strange situation. He held out his hand to me forcefully and said “Hi! What's your name?”
“I'm Nils,” I said, instinctively.
At that, a strange look crossed his face, a mixture between pity and relief that he wasn't me. “Oh...” he said, eagerly withdrawing his hand. “I'm Elder So-and-so.” Missionaries are supposed to use the title “Elder.” For me, it took some getting used to.
And so it began. The MTC compound is almost completely sealed off from the rest of the world. At any given time it houses up to a few thousand young men and women from age 19 to their mid-twenties. Each day, rising early, missionaries find themselves all day long in language classes, gospel lessons, or other training meetings in preparation for their inevitable deployment to all corners of the earth. From dawn until dusk they are at work, with few breaks for meals, exercise, and sleep.
In addition to the rigorous schedule (compared by some to a type of “missionary boot camp”), a strange cultural phenomenon understandably occurs. Nearly ever single missionary is trying desperately to prove their seriousness about their missionary service. This results in a clash of immaturity and diligent effort, which in turn yielded to an over-abundance of self-righteousness among peers.
At first, this was particularly difficult. Like my peers, I too desired to be a successful missionary. I had no desire to rebel or make myself an exception to the rules. But, perhaps because of my disinterest in scrutinizing the behaviors of my colleagues, or perhaps because of my reluctance to pronounce my “righteousness” publicly, I found myself “marked” for critique.
If was too loud, or cracked a joke, somebody would inevitably scold, “quiet dignity Elder!” If I wore sunglasses (it was summer) or tried a new knot on my tie (yeah, I know, blame it on necessity-induced nerdiness) I was taken aside and urged to remember “the reason I was there.” Worst of all, if I showed any sort of friendliness to the sister missionaries, I was tagged as a troublemaker for sure.
Truth to be told, within a few weeks this started to wear on different aspects of my efforts. While I brushed most of it off and went on my way, it began to seep into my spirituality as well, bringing forward some heavy questions about my belief system in general.
Fortunately, among the gray there was pure silver as well. In addition to being the worst of times, the best of times were not far behind. Stay tuned, as next week I'll talk about what made the MTC glorious as it was. For now, feel free to share your own MTC stories or thoughts.
When swapping MTC experiences with other former missionaries, a common theme inevitably emerges. It is best described by the opening phrase to Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...” Truly, the MTC was one of the most meaningful experiences in my life. Conversely, it was also one of the most personally and spiritually challenging experiences.
After a somewhat awkward and tearful goodbye from my family, where we new missionaries were herded from auditorium as our parents were left alone (my mother later described the cruelty of the moment), I found myself a full-fledged citizen of a world I knew very little about. Though I had my fundamental understanding of the Gospel, not to mention an upbringing in Utah and exposure to Mormon culture, I still felt like a tourist.
Me saying my goodbyes to Mom and Dad in "the weaning room"
Somewhat dazed, I stood in a line, waiting to receive logistical instructions. One new missionary stood in front of me, his new suit perfectly pressed, his hair freshly trimmed. He wore a wide smile across his face, and looked like he was having the greatest experience that he had ever known. I, perhaps, appeared a bit more shocked, or at least wary, of this strange situation. He held out his hand to me forcefully and said “Hi! What's your name?”
“I'm Nils,” I said, instinctively.
At that, a strange look crossed his face, a mixture between pity and relief that he wasn't me. “Oh...” he said, eagerly withdrawing his hand. “I'm Elder So-and-so.” Missionaries are supposed to use the title “Elder.” For me, it took some getting used to.
And so it began. The MTC compound is almost completely sealed off from the rest of the world. At any given time it houses up to a few thousand young men and women from age 19 to their mid-twenties. Each day, rising early, missionaries find themselves all day long in language classes, gospel lessons, or other training meetings in preparation for their inevitable deployment to all corners of the earth. From dawn until dusk they are at work, with few breaks for meals, exercise, and sleep.
In addition to the rigorous schedule (compared by some to a type of “missionary boot camp”), a strange cultural phenomenon understandably occurs. Nearly ever single missionary is trying desperately to prove their seriousness about their missionary service. This results in a clash of immaturity and diligent effort, which in turn yielded to an over-abundance of self-righteousness among peers.
At first, this was particularly difficult. Like my peers, I too desired to be a successful missionary. I had no desire to rebel or make myself an exception to the rules. But, perhaps because of my disinterest in scrutinizing the behaviors of my colleagues, or perhaps because of my reluctance to pronounce my “righteousness” publicly, I found myself “marked” for critique.
If was too loud, or cracked a joke, somebody would inevitably scold, “quiet dignity Elder!” If I wore sunglasses (it was summer) or tried a new knot on my tie (yeah, I know, blame it on necessity-induced nerdiness) I was taken aside and urged to remember “the reason I was there.” Worst of all, if I showed any sort of friendliness to the sister missionaries, I was tagged as a troublemaker for sure.
Truth to be told, within a few weeks this started to wear on different aspects of my efforts. While I brushed most of it off and went on my way, it began to seep into my spirituality as well, bringing forward some heavy questions about my belief system in general.
Fortunately, among the gray there was pure silver as well. In addition to being the worst of times, the best of times were not far behind. Stay tuned, as next week I'll talk about what made the MTC glorious as it was. For now, feel free to share your own MTC stories or thoughts.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
The Mormon Missionary Part II: Time on My Hands
I often reflect on the unique ways I felt as a missionary. The missionary lifestyle provides a singular cultural experience. For me, it led to more personal introspection and growth than any other experience I have ever had. While there were many things which made this experience such a curious one, if I had to choose one aspect which influenced me more than anything, the answer might surprise you. Time. Time, as a missionary, took on a completely unprecedented meaning for me. Never before have I been so aware of time.
Missionary work was constantly coupled with an unquenchable sense of urgency. Every moment of every day was highlighted by a mightily noticeable feeling, ever present in the depths of my skull. It felt as if I were systematically asking myself: “Are you using time in the best possible way?”
Though I reminisce on my missionary experience with pleasant memories, it wasn't all happiness and sunshine. There where times when I felt frustrated, inadequate, and unsuccessful. Never was I made to feel these feelings from others in the mission (I know this can't be said for all who have been missionaries). These feelings came from myself. These were the times when I felt that time itself got the better of me.
In addition to being a periodic source of frustration, time also became one of my most trusted friends. Sometimes my missionary relationship with time provided positive motivation and pushed me to stretch myself and go beyond my perceived abilities. These moments were anything but frustrating or self-destructive. Quite on the contrary, I recall many nights going to bed with such an intense feeling of joy and happiness covering me like a blanket. In these moments, I remember feeling overwhelmingly happy to be alive. These feelings, almost without fail, came after my concept of time pushed me to my limits, and showed me that I could accomplish far more than I otherwise would have thought possible.
When I didn't respond to the beckoning of time, I would feel that I had let myself down. I would feel that I had chances to push myself, yet shied away from these opportunities for growth. Often, this feeling of personal guilt would lead me to make extra effort the following day, while other times, it felt like a captive cycle that I could not bring myself to break.
In the end, the negative experiences were no match for the wonder of the positive ones. In fact, the negative experiences were essential in recognizing how this process worked, and being caught up on both sides of this coin helped me gain a better, albeit still growing, understanding of time. Indeed, there are few moments of joy in my life that I cherish as much as some of these missionary experiences which center on my relationship to time.
I even had an odd and almost ritualistic experience which occurred to me the day I returned home from Russia, which metaphorically echoed my missionary relationship with time. As I stepped into my parent's home for the first time, my wristwatch, which I had worn daily as a missionary and used to manage this heightened sense of time, unexpectedly broke at the band. It fell from my wrist and onto the kitchen counter, never to be fixed. I have not worn one since.
In my post-missionary life, remnants of this phenomenon of time-awareness have remained, though they have never felt quite the same as they did during that two-year period. Nevertheless, whenever I feel I am being idle, that voice within me still suggests that I should not be using my time in a wasteful manner.
Ultimately, I believe this was one of the most important steps in my personal maturity. It demonstrated clearly to me the value of consistency and the importance of using one's time wisely. It is still a path of discovery for me, but one that would likely have not come about, save for the lessons that time taught me as a missionary.
Missionary work was constantly coupled with an unquenchable sense of urgency. Every moment of every day was highlighted by a mightily noticeable feeling, ever present in the depths of my skull. It felt as if I were systematically asking myself: “Are you using time in the best possible way?”
Though I reminisce on my missionary experience with pleasant memories, it wasn't all happiness and sunshine. There where times when I felt frustrated, inadequate, and unsuccessful. Never was I made to feel these feelings from others in the mission (I know this can't be said for all who have been missionaries). These feelings came from myself. These were the times when I felt that time itself got the better of me.
In addition to being a periodic source of frustration, time also became one of my most trusted friends. Sometimes my missionary relationship with time provided positive motivation and pushed me to stretch myself and go beyond my perceived abilities. These moments were anything but frustrating or self-destructive. Quite on the contrary, I recall many nights going to bed with such an intense feeling of joy and happiness covering me like a blanket. In these moments, I remember feeling overwhelmingly happy to be alive. These feelings, almost without fail, came after my concept of time pushed me to my limits, and showed me that I could accomplish far more than I otherwise would have thought possible.
When I didn't respond to the beckoning of time, I would feel that I had let myself down. I would feel that I had chances to push myself, yet shied away from these opportunities for growth. Often, this feeling of personal guilt would lead me to make extra effort the following day, while other times, it felt like a captive cycle that I could not bring myself to break.
In the end, the negative experiences were no match for the wonder of the positive ones. In fact, the negative experiences were essential in recognizing how this process worked, and being caught up on both sides of this coin helped me gain a better, albeit still growing, understanding of time. Indeed, there are few moments of joy in my life that I cherish as much as some of these missionary experiences which center on my relationship to time.
I even had an odd and almost ritualistic experience which occurred to me the day I returned home from Russia, which metaphorically echoed my missionary relationship with time. As I stepped into my parent's home for the first time, my wristwatch, which I had worn daily as a missionary and used to manage this heightened sense of time, unexpectedly broke at the band. It fell from my wrist and onto the kitchen counter, never to be fixed. I have not worn one since.
In my post-missionary life, remnants of this phenomenon of time-awareness have remained, though they have never felt quite the same as they did during that two-year period. Nevertheless, whenever I feel I am being idle, that voice within me still suggests that I should not be using my time in a wasteful manner.
Ultimately, I believe this was one of the most important steps in my personal maturity. It demonstrated clearly to me the value of consistency and the importance of using one's time wisely. It is still a path of discovery for me, but one that would likely have not come about, save for the lessons that time taught me as a missionary.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
The Mormon Missionary Part I: Introduction
I am now a proud member of the Washington DC Deaf Branch. Never mind the fact that I don't really know how to sign. Upon joining the branch, I was somewhat concerned about what calling I might receive. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy having responsibilities, but I somewhat concerned that I would once again being tapped as a clerk of sorts. It seems that once you get into the administrative callings, it is sometimes difficult to escape, and in Romania I was the "everything clerk." So, a few weeks ago when the Branch President called me into his office for an interview, I was extremely happy when I learned that I was offered a calling as the Branch Mission Leader.
Perhaps you might not leap for joy at this calling, but I am quite excited about it. There are two main reasons for this: 1) Even though it has been more than five years since I was a full-time missionary for the Church, I still enjoy the idea of missionary work and think about it regularly, and 2) I hold a lot of strong opinions about missionary work, and look forward to making those opinions heard. Frankly, I feel that many go about doing missionary work with a, shall we say, “less-than-ideal” approach.
In honor of my new calling and in an attempt to bounce ideas off all of you, I would like to dedicate the next several posts to different aspects of missionary work. Please feel free to make your opinions and feelings known, both Mormons and non-Mormons alike.
For today, I want to assess the idea of what a missionary actually is.
Depending on your background and experience, you might have a very different view of a missionary than I do. For some, a missionary is a Jehovah's Witnesses knocking at your doors or leaving pamphlets. For others, missionaries are the Jesuits from centuries ago who went and spent the rest of their lives in foreign communities. Others think more along the lines of the conquistadors, the crusaders, or others who used physical force to compel others to religious conversion. Others might think of the evangelical youth or retirees of today who go on short “mission trips” to parts of the world, handing out Bibles and the like. And of course, many of you think of the young men and women with name tags who represent the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Even with this short but incomplete (and admittedly Christian-centric, sorry to my non-Christian friends) list, it is visible how one type of missionary work differs significantly from the others. Moreover, depending on your view of missionaries or missionary work, even the word “missionary” might carry with it a very positive or negative connotation.
It seems that the occasion arises often where my past experience as a missionary has led to interesting discussions with my friends and colleagues, the vast majority of whom are not Mormons, about what it means to be a missionary. As a development worker, I draw close parallels between what we do around the world in terms of development and humanitarian work. We go to a foreign community, offer up new ideas and concepts, and hope that those new ideas and concepts take root and grow.
In essence, a missionary does (or should do) the same thing. They go among those who are different than they are, offer up new ideas and ways of living life, and hope that those new ideas and habits take root and expand. This is the process often called “religious conversion.” The only real difference is that God is directly factored into the equation.
So why then do people generally have a positive view of humanitarian work, yet often carry a negative view of missionary work? While there are many different possible explanations, I feel there is one reason which may be more significant than others: Too many missionaries have gone about their work in the entirely wrong way.
As I have reflected on how to classify the “wrong way” and the “right way” to do missionary work, the most useful element I have identified can be expressed as a question: “For whom are you working?” Are missionaries working for their own spiritual well-being, or for that of others?
When a missionary is concerned primarily with their own well-being, they get lazy. They start resorting to questionable techniques, giving sales-pitches, using fear tactics, etc. In short, they try to make people fear that if they don't accept their message, they will be in danger of some unseen peril in the life to come. They essentially take any option out of the conversion process.
To me, it seems that missionary work is only useful if it is genuine and truly focused on the well-being of others. This means it must be completely open-ended, and that those who convert must choose to do so, without being unnecessarily compelled by a missionary. Any more thoughts on how this can possibly be measured? Any other thoughts on the right and wrong ways to be a missionary?
Perhaps you might not leap for joy at this calling, but I am quite excited about it. There are two main reasons for this: 1) Even though it has been more than five years since I was a full-time missionary for the Church, I still enjoy the idea of missionary work and think about it regularly, and 2) I hold a lot of strong opinions about missionary work, and look forward to making those opinions heard. Frankly, I feel that many go about doing missionary work with a, shall we say, “less-than-ideal” approach.
In honor of my new calling and in an attempt to bounce ideas off all of you, I would like to dedicate the next several posts to different aspects of missionary work. Please feel free to make your opinions and feelings known, both Mormons and non-Mormons alike.
For today, I want to assess the idea of what a missionary actually is.
Depending on your background and experience, you might have a very different view of a missionary than I do. For some, a missionary is a Jehovah's Witnesses knocking at your doors or leaving pamphlets. For others, missionaries are the Jesuits from centuries ago who went and spent the rest of their lives in foreign communities. Others think more along the lines of the conquistadors, the crusaders, or others who used physical force to compel others to religious conversion. Others might think of the evangelical youth or retirees of today who go on short “mission trips” to parts of the world, handing out Bibles and the like. And of course, many of you think of the young men and women with name tags who represent the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Even with this short but incomplete (and admittedly Christian-centric, sorry to my non-Christian friends) list, it is visible how one type of missionary work differs significantly from the others. Moreover, depending on your view of missionaries or missionary work, even the word “missionary” might carry with it a very positive or negative connotation.
It seems that the occasion arises often where my past experience as a missionary has led to interesting discussions with my friends and colleagues, the vast majority of whom are not Mormons, about what it means to be a missionary. As a development worker, I draw close parallels between what we do around the world in terms of development and humanitarian work. We go to a foreign community, offer up new ideas and concepts, and hope that those new ideas and concepts take root and grow.
In essence, a missionary does (or should do) the same thing. They go among those who are different than they are, offer up new ideas and ways of living life, and hope that those new ideas and habits take root and expand. This is the process often called “religious conversion.” The only real difference is that God is directly factored into the equation.
So why then do people generally have a positive view of humanitarian work, yet often carry a negative view of missionary work? While there are many different possible explanations, I feel there is one reason which may be more significant than others: Too many missionaries have gone about their work in the entirely wrong way.
As I have reflected on how to classify the “wrong way” and the “right way” to do missionary work, the most useful element I have identified can be expressed as a question: “For whom are you working?” Are missionaries working for their own spiritual well-being, or for that of others?
When a missionary is concerned primarily with their own well-being, they get lazy. They start resorting to questionable techniques, giving sales-pitches, using fear tactics, etc. In short, they try to make people fear that if they don't accept their message, they will be in danger of some unseen peril in the life to come. They essentially take any option out of the conversion process.
To me, it seems that missionary work is only useful if it is genuine and truly focused on the well-being of others. This means it must be completely open-ended, and that those who convert must choose to do so, without being unnecessarily compelled by a missionary. Any more thoughts on how this can possibly be measured? Any other thoughts on the right and wrong ways to be a missionary?
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
We'll Be Back...
Hi Readers,
Sorry for the absence of posts and activity as of late. Fear not, I have not abandoned this project, I have simply been getting my bearings in a new life and a new country (the USA). I have set October 3rd (CORRECTION: October 10th) as the restart date for Mormon Thinking, in which various ideas surrounding missionary work will be discussed for the next few posts. I am welcome and open to any ideas, suggestions, questions, etc.
See you soon!
Nils
Sorry for the absence of posts and activity as of late. Fear not, I have not abandoned this project, I have simply been getting my bearings in a new life and a new country (the USA). I have set October 3rd (CORRECTION: October 10th) as the restart date for Mormon Thinking, in which various ideas surrounding missionary work will be discussed for the next few posts. I am welcome and open to any ideas, suggestions, questions, etc.
See you soon!
Nils
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Mormon Diplomacy Part IV: Understanding Public Perception
These past couple of weeks I have been in training for my new job as a Foreign Service Officer. While for now I live in Virginia, it seems that for the next few decades I will continue my trend of living in relatively obscure countries throughout the world. While I have plenty of concerns about such a life, concerns of being able to practice my religion is not one of them. As a Mormon, there has never been a more convenient time to live the life I do. We live in a time when Mormons are spread throughout the entire world, when English is no longer the most common first language for church members, and when there are more Mormons outside of the United States than in it.
For many Mormons, these and other indicators would seem to suggest that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is now a truly global church. And they are correct to think so. In every sense of the word, Mormonism has truly penetrated the globe. While there are still a few countries in which there are no functioning congregations, these countries are indeed very few. As a citizen of the world and a proud member of our fantastic global community we call planet Earth, it makes me happy to see that my religion appreciates internationalism as much as I do.
However, despite the new and globalized Church, there is still limited knowledge of who the Mormons are among those who haven't had direct exposure. I believe that one of the great misconceptions that often creeps into the Mormon consciousness is this: A global church means that the rest of the world has global understanding of what the Church represents and believes.
The fact of the matter is, most people in the world have still not heard about the Mormons at all. Beyond those, the next biggest chunk of the world's population may have heard about the Mormons, and some may even recognize that it is a church. Nevertheless, it is a fact that relatively few people in the world know anything substantive about the Mormons. Even in the United States, where it is fairly safe to assume that most people have heard about the Mormons, it is a mistake to assume any more than that.
So, why don't more people know about us? There are likely a number of reasons, differing from person to person. However, in most cases I believe the reason for knowing next to nothing about the Mormons is because it has simply never become an issue to most individuals. They likely have no family or close friends who are Mormons, and have had no reason to otherwise study the makeup of various religions.
I have observed, in some cases, that this lack of knowledge can be irksome to some Mormons. At times, they seem to confuse an absence of understanding for mis-understanding or even malice. When somebody shows ignorance in their knowledge about Mormons, they take offense, and automatically assume prejudice against their religious beliefs. Such members may feel the urge to defend what they perceive as an attack on their own mental capabilities. At times we give the wrong impression by the manner in which we “defend the faith.”
While it is true that there may be times when one needs to stand up and truly defend their beliefs, such as in cases where they are really facing outright discrimination, most times do not call for the full defense forces to be united. If we are too sharp, our defense becomes a reproof which tends to only solidify the mis-conception. These then become spoiled opportunities to inform and to teach.
Think of cases when somebody said something to you about Mormonism with which you disagreed. First, did you feel these people meant harm or insult? Second, how did you react? Did you feel the need to correct them immediately? Did they come away with a more positive view of Mormonism?
For Mormons, I believe that understanding that most people know very little about them is a healthy dose of reality. Understanding this may help them be less likely to take offense when others demonstrate a lack of understanding. But even more importantly, we must realize that the ways in which we react will either leave them with greater understanding and respect, or send them away with misconceptions reinforced.
For many Mormons, these and other indicators would seem to suggest that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is now a truly global church. And they are correct to think so. In every sense of the word, Mormonism has truly penetrated the globe. While there are still a few countries in which there are no functioning congregations, these countries are indeed very few. As a citizen of the world and a proud member of our fantastic global community we call planet Earth, it makes me happy to see that my religion appreciates internationalism as much as I do.
However, despite the new and globalized Church, there is still limited knowledge of who the Mormons are among those who haven't had direct exposure. I believe that one of the great misconceptions that often creeps into the Mormon consciousness is this: A global church means that the rest of the world has global understanding of what the Church represents and believes.
The fact of the matter is, most people in the world have still not heard about the Mormons at all. Beyond those, the next biggest chunk of the world's population may have heard about the Mormons, and some may even recognize that it is a church. Nevertheless, it is a fact that relatively few people in the world know anything substantive about the Mormons. Even in the United States, where it is fairly safe to assume that most people have heard about the Mormons, it is a mistake to assume any more than that.
So, why don't more people know about us? There are likely a number of reasons, differing from person to person. However, in most cases I believe the reason for knowing next to nothing about the Mormons is because it has simply never become an issue to most individuals. They likely have no family or close friends who are Mormons, and have had no reason to otherwise study the makeup of various religions.
I have observed, in some cases, that this lack of knowledge can be irksome to some Mormons. At times, they seem to confuse an absence of understanding for mis-understanding or even malice. When somebody shows ignorance in their knowledge about Mormons, they take offense, and automatically assume prejudice against their religious beliefs. Such members may feel the urge to defend what they perceive as an attack on their own mental capabilities. At times we give the wrong impression by the manner in which we “defend the faith.”
While it is true that there may be times when one needs to stand up and truly defend their beliefs, such as in cases where they are really facing outright discrimination, most times do not call for the full defense forces to be united. If we are too sharp, our defense becomes a reproof which tends to only solidify the mis-conception. These then become spoiled opportunities to inform and to teach.
Think of cases when somebody said something to you about Mormonism with which you disagreed. First, did you feel these people meant harm or insult? Second, how did you react? Did you feel the need to correct them immediately? Did they come away with a more positive view of Mormonism?
For Mormons, I believe that understanding that most people know very little about them is a healthy dose of reality. Understanding this may help them be less likely to take offense when others demonstrate a lack of understanding. But even more importantly, we must realize that the ways in which we react will either leave them with greater understanding and respect, or send them away with misconceptions reinforced.
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