Magic Words

Most of us, if we have ventured forth into the world at all, have met a pair of Mormon missionaries.

This post will have nothing to do with the validity of the Latter Day Saints, their theology or sociology. This week I was approached twice, once on the street, and once at my door. I have to hand it to these guys (always a pair). They are invariably handsome, well-groomed young men, dressed conservatively (yet stylishly) in black. They are invariably polite, and actually quite pleasant. I’m certain that they may win a few converts just for their appearance and manners. The problem with them is that once you have heard their pitch, you either accept it and become a Mormon, or reject it.

And reject it. And reject it.

Let us backtrack a little now. My great-grandfather’s grandfather’s uncle helped found the Mormon religion. He was the number two man, he was the first baptized Mormon and he baptized the founder. He transcribed the book of Mormon from Joseph Smith’s translations. Every book of Mormon, on the first page, has the testimony of the witnesses. His is the first name: Oliver Cowdery. He was also the Judas of the Mormon church, he resigned in protest over certain shenanigans of the founder. (No need to enumerate them here, but these practices would definitely be #MeToo nowadays!)

All of this brings me to the point at hand.

What can a normal person do to rid oneself (in a civilized manner) of these pleasant but persistent pests? Four magic words. Four words, whose power is so great that the missionaries have been taught to flee from anyone uttering them, flee as if it were Satan himself uttering this foul blasphemy.

Trust me. It works.

The words?

“Oliver Cowdery was right!”

BTW, don't forget to smile!

After all, they really are very nice young men.



This is an updated (image added) FITK post from 2004