Introduction

Note: I realized it's about time I wrote the introduction.

If you’re from a country with a certain degree of religious freedom, chances are you’ve been relaxing on a summer afternoon, sipping something cold and refreshing and reading the news, when suddenly your tranquility is disrupted by a knock on the door. On the doorstep, you find a pair of clean-cut young men in matching white shirts and black nametags, grinning like escapees from a rerun of The Brady Bunch. They probably invited you to hear a message about families, the Book of Mormon, or Jesus Christ. They may have given you a small card with an offer for a free DVD and pictures of inexplicably smiling, ethnically diverse people. They may have offered service or invited you to attend church services. However their approach, these young men — or possibly young women — were Mormon missionaries.

Who are they? Where did they come from? Is there a factory somewhere that churns out neatly shaved young men, stamping the black nametags and affixing conservative ties on an efficient assembly line? Are these young missionaries dismantled upon their return, their mechanical parts reused for the next generation of door-knockers? Or are they hatched en masse in vast subterranean colonies, fed on a steady diet of milk and honey until they’re mature enough to send in pairs around the world?

The truth, I regret to say, is far less interesting. A year or two ago, those young people at your door were ordinary youths, graduating from high school or braving college while exploring the realms of dating or taking endless aptitude tests to defog obscured career paths. At some point, whether because of family pressure or personal conviction, they elected to fill out their paperwork and prepare to serve a mission.

I served a mission. At this point in my life, it remains one of the best things I ever did. I have a few regrets, but for the most part I’m happy with my service and pleased with the growth I accomplished during those two years.

Today, with Mormons running for president and Mormon values tested, embraced, or challenged across the issues, with Mormon culture represented with varying degrees of accuracy in the media, I still feel some missionary spirit. That’s where this book comes from: I want to share my experiences as a missionary and thereby cast some light upon the Mormon lifestyle and belief system. My intent is to be as candid as possible, portraying Mormon missionaries as real human beings with functioning respiratory, cardiopulmonary, and neural systems, who possess an often underestimated ability to think for themselves and to preach what they truly believe.

Let me emphasize that this is not an official Church publication. As a missionary, I was an official representative of the Church and, I believe, Jesus Christ, but now I’m just a normal guy with his beliefs and values. That said, the general idea of this work to strengthen the faith of fellow members and illuminate members of other faiths and creeds.

I’ve changed a few names. This is done to protect privacy, to respect sensitive situations, and to keep embarrassment from those missionary companions whom I wanted to brutally murder. Some people kept their names, however, those who I feel would only benefit from having their names in print.

And so, a long time ago in a place not far away, I got my mission call ...