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We of the Baptist Truth cannot truly appreciate the horrors that are inflicted on young Mormons.
We are, by nature, too gentle.
Missioning, even in foreign lands, is not the onus
it's what comes before their far out trips, in the formative years,
during which time the word of their "god" is administered physically
by Mormonized parents.
Let us minister toward the gentler side? Empathy for the lost.
Mormons have a tough time of it, living inside lies, not knowing the lay.
Perhaps we can save a few of these poor people by hearing their stories?
Endless stories are found on the internets
Here's the source of the quote, just one of thousands of identical pages.
Please add love, show that All Baptists Care™, by citing more of such testimony?
PP
We are, by nature, too gentle.
Missioning, even in foreign lands, is not the onus
it's what comes before their far out trips, in the formative years,
during which time the word of their "god" is administered physically
by Mormonized parents.
Let us minister toward the gentler side? Empathy for the lost.
Mormons have a tough time of it, living inside lies, not knowing the lay.
Perhaps we can save a few of these poor people by hearing their stories?
Endless stories are found on the internets
Subject: My Temple Beating (true story) Date: Oct 28 15:06 Author: Deconstructor These Mormon beating stories are bringing back some memories for me. I had my share of Sunday beatings growing up.
But the worse Mormon beating I ever got was when I was 10, during a McConkie family reunion down in Manti during the Mormon Pageant. We went to the pageant hours before it started and set out blankets down on the grass in front of the temple. There were warning signs as we entered the lawn that it was sacred temple ground and we had to be reverent. But my cousins and I missed reading them.
So there were were, sitting on our blankets on the temple lawn getting bored. After some time of waiting my cousins and I started to play. BIG MISTAKE! As I recall, we were just playing clapping games or rock, scissors, paper or something like that. We weren't bothering anyone but we were laughing.
The next thing I know, my grandfather McConkie - whom I had never before seen angry - pulled me up by my arm and hit me across the cheek a few times and threw me down. In the crossest voice I'd ever heard, he chastised us for not being reverent on the holy temple ground. He was in a rage over it. He hit my other cousins too, knocking the wind out of each us as he threw us to the ground.
I looked over to my mother for some sympathy and all I got was a cross look from her. Later, she would tell me that as a priesthood holder, her father did the right thing. Besides, didn't we read the signs when we entered the temple grounds?
To understand my grandfather McConkie, he had been a full-time temple worker for over fifteen years. Mormonism - and especially the temple - was his life. And when he saw his grandchildren playing and laughing on the temple lawn he just couldn't take it. It didn't matter that the temple lawn was there for people to enjoy the pageant. Maybe he was embarrassed. Maybe he saw this as a teaching moment (one that we never forgot). Whatever the reason, it brought out that deep-seated righteous anger we read about in the scriptures and see modeled in many Bible believers.
That day I learned the importance of reverence for Mormon Temples. Looking back, I think I learned some other things about Mormonism and what taking it seriously can do to otherwise kind people. My grandfather was normally affectionate, the kind of grandfather that always had candy in his pocket. The only time I saw him in a rage was that day waiting for the Manti Pageant to start.
The only other time I saw him upset was the day blacks got the priesthood. But that's another story...
But the worse Mormon beating I ever got was when I was 10, during a McConkie family reunion down in Manti during the Mormon Pageant. We went to the pageant hours before it started and set out blankets down on the grass in front of the temple. There were warning signs as we entered the lawn that it was sacred temple ground and we had to be reverent. But my cousins and I missed reading them.
So there were were, sitting on our blankets on the temple lawn getting bored. After some time of waiting my cousins and I started to play. BIG MISTAKE! As I recall, we were just playing clapping games or rock, scissors, paper or something like that. We weren't bothering anyone but we were laughing.
The next thing I know, my grandfather McConkie - whom I had never before seen angry - pulled me up by my arm and hit me across the cheek a few times and threw me down. In the crossest voice I'd ever heard, he chastised us for not being reverent on the holy temple ground. He was in a rage over it. He hit my other cousins too, knocking the wind out of each us as he threw us to the ground.
I looked over to my mother for some sympathy and all I got was a cross look from her. Later, she would tell me that as a priesthood holder, her father did the right thing. Besides, didn't we read the signs when we entered the temple grounds?
To understand my grandfather McConkie, he had been a full-time temple worker for over fifteen years. Mormonism - and especially the temple - was his life. And when he saw his grandchildren playing and laughing on the temple lawn he just couldn't take it. It didn't matter that the temple lawn was there for people to enjoy the pageant. Maybe he was embarrassed. Maybe he saw this as a teaching moment (one that we never forgot). Whatever the reason, it brought out that deep-seated righteous anger we read about in the scriptures and see modeled in many Bible believers.
That day I learned the importance of reverence for Mormon Temples. Looking back, I think I learned some other things about Mormonism and what taking it seriously can do to otherwise kind people. My grandfather was normally affectionate, the kind of grandfather that always had candy in his pocket. The only time I saw him in a rage was that day waiting for the Manti Pageant to start.
The only other time I saw him upset was the day blacks got the priesthood. But that's another story...
Please add love, show that All Baptists Care™, by citing more of such testimony?
PP
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