The Furniture of The Book of Mormon
Posted: Mon Nov 15, 2010 4:17 pm
Weekly reports. A sign of all great bureaucracies. One filed every week for each missionary companionship. It fell to the senior companion to fill it out. I had been, up to this point, assigned the junior position. I got my first big chance to run the show, in Gary Indiana. Murder capital of the United States.
I had been struggling with the incompatible barren reality of the mission experience I lived, and the rose-colored, baptizing hundreds, candy-land story I'd been told it was supposed to be. To keep a bit of sanity, I started drawing figurative lines in the sand. My line? Honesty. I was sick of all the little lies. I decided to be honest with all that I did. No white lies. No fudging. The truth. This meant I filled out the weekly report with exactly what we did and how many hours we worked. There were blanks for all kinds of statistics.
Book of Mormons placed: 0
Number of Lessons taught: 0
Number of baptisms performed: 0
Hours spent total on all missionary work: 5.5
Our 5.5 hours consisted of a member-dinner we’d eaten (2.5) and the church service we attended (3.0). Staying in the apartment, not getting shot, did not count as work. Abysmal as the numbers might be I honestly reported exactly what we did.
Expected minimums per week:
Book of Mormons placed: 12
Number of Lessons taught: 4
Number of baptisms performed: 0.5 (one every two weeks)
Hours spent total on all missionary work: 85
85 hours, minimum. Considering that we got one day off per week to do laundry, write letters, and clean the apartment, 85 divides to 14.2 hours per day. Doing the math: 7.5 hours, sleep. 1 hour, shower/preparation/breakfast. 1 hour, personal morning study. 14.2 hours, missionary work, leaves 0.3 hours (18 minutes) for lunch. All missionaries were expected to have a dinner appointment lined up with a member-family every night. This counted as work.
So the only way you could honestly make the minimum was to work your ass off. No slacking. No stopping. Just work, work, work, straight through, every week, for two years.
My companion and I did nothing of the kind. We dragged ass, just like all the other missionary pairs we'd ever known.
Mission Hierarchy of Titles in order:
Mission President (Prez)
Assistant to the President (AP)
Zone Leader (ZL)
District Leader (DL)
Missionary
A bit over two weeks into my honesty streak I get a call from my District Leader (DL) saying that he and the Zone Leader (ZL) were concerned about the numbers I was reporting.
Concerned?
Well, you know. They’re a little low.
But that’s really what we did.
Yes but it’s causing problems.
Honestly reporting what we did last week causes problems?
Yes. No. Okay listen. The ZL’s getting on me ‘cause the AP’s are on him for the low numbers from our Zone. It’s causing problems for everyone.
Okay.
By you reporting it that way we' get all kinds of pressure from the Prez.
What way do you want me to report it?
A way that doesn’t cause problems.
You want me to lie.
I’m not saying that. I just don’t want problems. Neither does the ZL. Can’t you help us out?
Maybe we could work a few more hours next week and report that?
No, that’ll still be too low. Come on, help me out or I’ll just have to call you next week.
So either I lie, or you call me?
No I’m not asking you to lie.
So what are you asking?
I’m telling you that what you’re reporting causes problems for everybody. Please, just help us out.
I understand.
After the conversation I realized that I was probably the only missionary in the entire mission that honestly reported his numbers. I knew and worked with a lot of missionaries and not a single one of them worked all day like one would have to to meet the minimum required time.
I didn’t change my reports. I honestly put down what we did, low though it might be. I stopped getting calls from my DL.
Weeks later, at the DL’s apartment, I spotted my weekly report in the trash. Apparently, the DL’s solved his problem by forging a report and scrapping mine. I didn’t confront him about it. What was the point?
I know the Prez glanced at the consolidated final report the AP's presented to him every week, but did he understand the numbers on it were meaningless? The entire thing, a complete lie from top to bottom. Every missionary would pad their numbers so their DLs wouldn’t get on them. The DL’s fudged theirs so the ZLs wouldn’t chaff. The ZLs would scrub theirs so the AP’s wouldn’t get on them. The AP’s would massage the final report so the Prez wouldn’t ask them to do something. Pointless, bureaucratic, busy-work to produce a report with no basis in reality.
Keeping track of the amount of Books of Mormon each missionary pair reported handing out allowed the mission to know how many new ones to order. Every month or so, the Mission Home shipped a case or two to your apartment. One apartment of mine had so many they filled the coat closet and half of the bedroom closet. Because I wanted to actually use the closets, I decided to do something useful with the dozens and dozens of cases of BoMs. I made a couch to seat three, a coffee table, two end tables, and a writing desk with three shelves. I used an old door from the apartment for the writing surface and discarded wood planks for shelving.
We had an entire living room set made from BoMs. It matched the shag carpeting perfectly.
I had been struggling with the incompatible barren reality of the mission experience I lived, and the rose-colored, baptizing hundreds, candy-land story I'd been told it was supposed to be. To keep a bit of sanity, I started drawing figurative lines in the sand. My line? Honesty. I was sick of all the little lies. I decided to be honest with all that I did. No white lies. No fudging. The truth. This meant I filled out the weekly report with exactly what we did and how many hours we worked. There were blanks for all kinds of statistics.
Book of Mormons placed: 0
Number of Lessons taught: 0
Number of baptisms performed: 0
Hours spent total on all missionary work: 5.5
Our 5.5 hours consisted of a member-dinner we’d eaten (2.5) and the church service we attended (3.0). Staying in the apartment, not getting shot, did not count as work. Abysmal as the numbers might be I honestly reported exactly what we did.
Expected minimums per week:
Book of Mormons placed: 12
Number of Lessons taught: 4
Number of baptisms performed: 0.5 (one every two weeks)
Hours spent total on all missionary work: 85
85 hours, minimum. Considering that we got one day off per week to do laundry, write letters, and clean the apartment, 85 divides to 14.2 hours per day. Doing the math: 7.5 hours, sleep. 1 hour, shower/preparation/breakfast. 1 hour, personal morning study. 14.2 hours, missionary work, leaves 0.3 hours (18 minutes) for lunch. All missionaries were expected to have a dinner appointment lined up with a member-family every night. This counted as work.
So the only way you could honestly make the minimum was to work your ass off. No slacking. No stopping. Just work, work, work, straight through, every week, for two years.
My companion and I did nothing of the kind. We dragged ass, just like all the other missionary pairs we'd ever known.
Mission Hierarchy of Titles in order:
Mission President (Prez)
Assistant to the President (AP)
Zone Leader (ZL)
District Leader (DL)
Missionary
A bit over two weeks into my honesty streak I get a call from my District Leader (DL) saying that he and the Zone Leader (ZL) were concerned about the numbers I was reporting.
Concerned?
Well, you know. They’re a little low.
But that’s really what we did.
Yes but it’s causing problems.
Honestly reporting what we did last week causes problems?
Yes. No. Okay listen. The ZL’s getting on me ‘cause the AP’s are on him for the low numbers from our Zone. It’s causing problems for everyone.
Okay.
By you reporting it that way we' get all kinds of pressure from the Prez.
What way do you want me to report it?
A way that doesn’t cause problems.
You want me to lie.
I’m not saying that. I just don’t want problems. Neither does the ZL. Can’t you help us out?
Maybe we could work a few more hours next week and report that?
No, that’ll still be too low. Come on, help me out or I’ll just have to call you next week.
So either I lie, or you call me?
No I’m not asking you to lie.
So what are you asking?
I’m telling you that what you’re reporting causes problems for everybody. Please, just help us out.
I understand.
After the conversation I realized that I was probably the only missionary in the entire mission that honestly reported his numbers. I knew and worked with a lot of missionaries and not a single one of them worked all day like one would have to to meet the minimum required time.
I didn’t change my reports. I honestly put down what we did, low though it might be. I stopped getting calls from my DL.
Weeks later, at the DL’s apartment, I spotted my weekly report in the trash. Apparently, the DL’s solved his problem by forging a report and scrapping mine. I didn’t confront him about it. What was the point?
I know the Prez glanced at the consolidated final report the AP's presented to him every week, but did he understand the numbers on it were meaningless? The entire thing, a complete lie from top to bottom. Every missionary would pad their numbers so their DLs wouldn’t get on them. The DL’s fudged theirs so the ZLs wouldn’t chaff. The ZLs would scrub theirs so the AP’s wouldn’t get on them. The AP’s would massage the final report so the Prez wouldn’t ask them to do something. Pointless, bureaucratic, busy-work to produce a report with no basis in reality.
Keeping track of the amount of Books of Mormon each missionary pair reported handing out allowed the mission to know how many new ones to order. Every month or so, the Mission Home shipped a case or two to your apartment. One apartment of mine had so many they filled the coat closet and half of the bedroom closet. Because I wanted to actually use the closets, I decided to do something useful with the dozens and dozens of cases of BoMs. I made a couch to seat three, a coffee table, two end tables, and a writing desk with three shelves. I used an old door from the apartment for the writing surface and discarded wood planks for shelving.
We had an entire living room set made from BoMs. It matched the shag carpeting perfectly.