I have very few hard and fast rules about life, but one of them is ‘Never argue about religion.’ This doesn’t mean I won’t talk about religion, mind you, but ultimately, I think a person’s faith is none of my business. Whether someone worships the Almighty Jesus or the Pagan Pixie Goddess of Yore is irrelevant. All morality is subjective, so how someone determines their own, personal moral compass is completely inconsequential to me.
I may not understand Christians who zealously attempt to ‘save’ their neighbor, but frankly, I understand Atheists who continually try to talk their friends out of believing in a higher power even less. If Jesus scares people out raping little kids and cutting the nipples off of prostitutes just to watch them bleed, then who am I to turn up my nose?
But, like I said, I still like to talk about religion. Which is why when I started working with a Mormon guy a couple of years ago, I was thrilled. There’s not a lot of Mormons in my area, so it’s a rare thing to get the opportunity to pick the brain of one. To say I had a billion questions for the guy would be an understatement.
The very second I had gained his confidence I pulled him aside and demanded he tell me every single detail about the Mormon religion. Usually people are all too happy to talk about their faith if they find themselves in a nonthreatening atmosphere, so before I knew it, I was privy to every dirty little secret in the Mormon Church.
Of course, I still had questions.
My Mormon friend blinked his eyes, confused. “Huh?”
“OK, never mind that. Just tell me this, this whole religion started because some dude basically said he was a prophet from God, right?”
“And, as the prophet from God, this dude got to tell everyone what to do, right?”
“Well, how do you know this dude wasn’t lying? How can you be sure he wasn’t just some crazy guy on a power trip making the whole thing up?”
My Mormon friend shot me an understanding smile. Then, he said, “Well V, I guess you’re just going to have to go home and pray about it.”
So I went home and prayed about it. I prayed long and hard and eventually, I did reach some conclusions. Thrilled by my findings, I could not wait to see my Mormon friend again so I could tell him what I had learned.
The next day at work, I pulled him aside and said, “I did what you said. I went home and prayed about it.”
“And God spoke to me. He told me the Mormon religion was the right way to go.”
“See!” he cried passionately, “I told you so!”
Before he got too excited, I cut in, “But God also told me something else while I was asking about the Mormon religion.”
He paused. Then he asked, “Oh? What’s that?”
“Well, he said that once this current prophet dies, I’m supposed to be the new Mormon prophet. I got, you know, a calling.”
I’ve never seen a man looked so confused. Seriously, you would have thought I just told him that I just saw his penis crawl down his pant leg and scurry across the room like a crazed lizard squirrel.
“But…the prophet has always been a man.”
“I know that!” I said, “Don’t you think I know that? But God, he told me that the world was ready for a change! He told me that it’s time a woman had a turn. And that woman was going to be ME! Seriously, I cannot wait for my turn to lead the Mormon people…”
Suddenly, my Mormon friend deflated like an old balloon. He put his head in his hands, rubbed his temples, and laughed. Then he wagged a reproachful finger under my nose and said:
“You know, V…this is why people hate you.”
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