Monday, December 19, 2011

Wards-That-Must-Not-Be-Named

So I moved out of my apartment about a month ago. A lot of factors influenced my decision, including, but not limited to, the following:
  1. Non-functioning oven
  2. Mysterious radiators that operated on their own schedule
  3. Pot-smoking neighbors
  4. Awkward encounter with one such pot-smoking also gay neighbor where I learned that the term "Mo" does not refer to "Homo" which means I definitely answered her question incorrectly and FAR too quickly. She was nice but our hallway encounters were never the same...
  5. The amateur X-rated movies being filmed in the apartment below mine
However, the thing I dreaded the most....was the Singles Ward. To understsand this feeling, recall the fear and loathing with which the characters in Harry Potter said the name 'Voldemort'. In most cases they used the term 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' becuase his name was too powerfully horrible to utter. I have yet to come up with an adequate subsitute for the "Singles Ward" term that brings me such grief...but I'm working on it.

I could write pages and pages of Singles Ward experiences....but I won't. I'm not even going to touch the testimony meetings turned into date auditions, or the Family Home Evening formula (who decided an ugly Christmas sweater party was required every year...the funny and original ships sailed a long time ago on that idea), or the spirituality = A's Relief Society lessons, or anything beyond my most recent encounter.

I was at my most recent Ward (which I should point out was not in Provo - the weirdness is not contained in that one city by any means) listening to the announcements. Nothing out of the ordinary (activities, food, servce, etc.) but then they announce something called a Blitz. I was intrigued. They went on to explain that all the interested Ward members would gather at the Church and then proceed to visit 3-4 members who hadn't shown up in awhile (LDS word for these people is 'inactives').

My interest turned to horror.  One Tuesday a month some poor unsuspecting people would have 10-30 people descending on their house to investigate why they'd stopped attending church and pressure them into coming back. It was amazing to me that the people sitting around me could have convinced themselves that this was a great thing they were planning, as if the word "blitz" was a synonym for "friendly service," something akin to helping an old person cross the street.

Clearly no one had taken the time to look up "blitz" in a thesaurus, if they had they would have found the words assault, attack, bomb, bombard, carnage, charge, offense, onrush, onslaught, rush, storm, and millitancy, which hopefully would have clued them into the terror they were about to bring on innocent souls. Right then and there I resolved to do my best never to be home on Tuesday evenings (as I knew I was already at risk of being considered 'inactive'). When I was home, I kept the lights off, refused to answer the door and thought about getting a ladder for use in quick-escape situations. Thankfully, my manuevers allowed me to escape the dreaded 'blitz.'

My whole life I have heard quotes about LDS youth being "strong and righteous" and basically the best generation to live on the earth. Having been in a few Singles Wards I've realized something... this generation wasn't saved for this time because they're interesting or smart or funny or attractive. So which generation was that? I'm thinking I'd like to trade.

1 comment:

Sarah said...

Haha wow blitz does not sound like a good idea! And yes something strange happens in singles wards (and even young married wards). My theory is everyone is too similar in situation. but once u get to a family ward everyone turns normal again! Congrats on the new place!