Baseball Baptism Fever

[SeattleUte]

I've told my story about Mark E. Peterson balling us out, and linked it here from Cougarboard. He shook us up badly, but it didn't change anything. We went right on doing what we were doing.

Of course Mark E. Peterson was right. But the thing that to this day strikes me as odd about that experience is that he dressed us all down in that chapel, the MP and all of us missionaries, together. Why didn't he give the MP a directive to implement? Why didn't they keep MEP's concerns between them? WHy did he humiliate the MP in front of all of us? No one said anything but you could cut the tension with a knife in that meeting. My MP was dying a thousand deaths, I could see. It was really bizarre. To this day I regard it as one of the weirdest experiences of my life.

I think MEP was probably just the biggest asshole I ever met. That's the only explanation I can think of. From this distance the whole thing is kind of darkly funny, actually.

[MikeWaters]

cultures vary in their willingness to 1) accept the message and 2) break with traditional ties.

one part of my mission was very prolific in baptisms, compared to the rest of the mission. Different culture, different language.

My area, in the centuries before, was known for its hostility to outsiders. There was an island in my area, where missionaries could go months without a single person talking to them, and kids throwing rocks at them.

SU, I'm sorry you hate your mission. Too bad you gave so much for something you find so awful.

Me, on the other hand, I love my mission, I love the people, I love the hard work, I love my fellow missionaries, I love the elderly missionaries and everyone else.

I went through it all. I never achieved astounding success in any statistical categories, I never climbed to high leadership, or anything like that.

Man do I miss it. I'm sad that that time and place is gone forever, band of brothers, swept to the four winds.

[TripletDaddy]

Originally Posted by SeattleUte

I've told my story about Mark E. Peterson balling us out, and linked it here from Cougarboard. He shook us up badly, but it didn't change anything. We went right on doing what we were doing.

Of course Mark E. Peterson was right. But the thing that to this day strikes me as odd about that experience is that he dressed us all down in that chapel, the MP and all of us missionaries, together. Why didn't he give the MP a directive to implement? Why didn't they keep MEP's concerns between them? WHy did he humiliate the MP in front of all of us? No one said anything but you could cut the tension with a knife in that meeting. My MP was dying a thousand deaths, I could see. It was really bizarre. To this day I regard it as one of the weirdest experiences of my life.

I think MEP was probably just the biggest asshole I ever met. That's the only explanation I can think of. From this distance the whole thing is kind of darkly funny, actually.

All this anti Mark E Peterson talk.....and what you fail to admit was that in your mission, you were secretly encouraging black people to go out and buy Cadillacs....when you KNEW they couldn't afford them!

[Archaea]

Originally Posted by MikeWaters

cultures vary in their willingness to 1) accept the message and 2) break with traditional ties.

one part of my mission was very prolific in baptisms, compared to the rest of the mission. Different culture, different language.

My area, in the centuries before, was known for its hostility to outsiders. There was an island in my area, where missionaries could go months without a single person talking to them, and kids throwing rocks at them.

SU, I'm sorry you hate your mission. Too bad you gave so much for something you find so awful.

Me, on the other hand, I love my mission, I love the people, I love the hard work, I love my fellow missionaries, I love the elderly missionaries and everyone else.

I went through it all. I never achieved astounding success in any statistical categories, I never climbed to high leadership, or anything like that.

Man do I miss it. I'm sad that that time and place is gone forever, band of brothers, swept to the four winds.

My MP was a kind gentle soul, a dentist from Murray or Sandy I forget which. I don't remember his political or scriptural insights, but I was certain he cared for each of us missionaries and love the German people.

In one sense, we served in a land where the people did not want us, did not respect us and in many respects did not need us. We spoke bad German, were not particularly educated, lived amongst the poorest Turks who were hated by the Germans. One German explained it to me, "if I see a Turk in the road and a dog, and I must hit and kill one of them, I hit the Turk." That crass attitude was typical of German people and members.

The weather sucked, it either rained, snowed or prepared to rain. The food was fatty and not good for you. There were few members and fewer investigators, except those who wished to heckle you. The whole mission stood still when missionaries experienced a singular baptism of an investigator.

Yet despite some of the most miserable conditions I enjoyed working, learning and doing something I thought might be useful. It was an experience I'm glad I discovered and served in limited ability. It introduced me to continental attitudes, being able to be happy despite conditions and it taught me perseverance. May my kids be so blessed.

[SeattleUte]

Originally Posted by Archaea

My MP was a kind gentle soul, a dentist from Murray or Sandy I forget which. I don't remember his political or scriptural insights, but I was certain he cared for each of us missionaries and love the German people.

In one sense, we served in a land where the people did not want us, did not respect us and in many respects did not need us. We spoke bad German, were not particularly educated, lived amongst the poorest Turks who were hated by the Germans. One German explained it to me, "if I see a Turk in the road and a dog, and I must hit and kill one of them, I hit the Turk." That crass attitude was typical of German people and members.

The weather sucked, it either rained, snowed or prepared to rain. The food was fatty and not good for you. There were few members and fewer investigators, except those who wished to heckle you. The whole mission stood still when missionaries experienced a singular baptism of an investigator.

Yet despite some of the most miserable conditions I enjoyed working, learning and doing something I thought might be useful. It was an experience I'm glad I discovered and served in limited ability. It introduced me to continental attitudes, being able to be happy despite conditions and it taught me perseverance. May my kids be so blessed.

So you lived in Germany and didn't teach Germans?

My brother was in Cambridge, Massachusettes and I suspect he baptized no one with English a first language.

[Archaea]

Originally Posted by SeattleUte

So you lived in Germany and didn't teach Germans?

My brother was in Cambridge, Massachusettes and I suspect he baptized no one with English a first language.

I lived amongst the Turks more than a few times because that was the only place we could afford to live. Not speaking Turkish, I taught Germans and a few German speaking Russians and Serbs.

We participated in several baptisms and only two did not speak German natively where one was a Serb daughter and her mother, but both spoke fluently and later returned to Yugoslavia.

No we lived in poor circumstances because that is what our stipend from home could afford. It was an expensive mission and we were afraid to ask for more. So we scrimped and saved and lived amongst the poorest immigrants. Occasionally the sisters and we even sold our blood to make ends meet. I can't remember how much we got paid and we concealed this from the MP. Many of the sisters often went without food to save.

[SteelBlue]

Originally Posted by Archaea

My MP was a kind gentle soul, a dentist from Murray or Sandy I forget which. I don't remember his political or scriptural insights, but I was certain he cared for each of us missionaries and love the German people.

In one sense, we served in a land where the people did not want us, did not respect us and in many respects did not need us. We spoke bad German, were not particularly educated, lived amongst the poorest Turks who were hated by the Germans. One German explained it to me, "if I see a Turk in the road and a dog, and I must hit and kill one of them, I hit the Turk." That crass attitude was typical of German people and members.

The weather sucked, it either rained, snowed or prepared to rain. The food was fatty and not good for you. There were few members and fewer investigators, except those who wished to heckle you. The whole mission stood still when missionaries experienced a singular baptism of an investigator.

Yet despite some of the most miserable conditions I enjoyed working, learning and doing something I thought might be useful. It was an experience I'm glad I discovered and served in limited ability. It introduced me to continental attitudes, being able to be happy despite conditions and it taught me perseverance. May my kids be so blessed.

Substitute Holland/Belgium for Germany and you've just described my mission perfectly right down to living amongst the Turks. Nice post.

[MikeWaters]

Well, where you guys screwed up is in not teaching the minorities.

That's where all the potential converts are. The displaced, the uprooted, the poor.

[SeattleUte]

Originally Posted by MikeWaters

My mission was like the typical mission--it was largely the outliers, the outcasts, those willing to break with tradition and social norms who were the members.

Certainly you see the crushing irony here.

[Archaea]

Originally Posted by MikeWaters

Well, where you guys screwed up is in not teaching the minorities.

That's where all the potential converts are. The displaced, the uprooted, the poor.

We taught the Africans but then the Germans would often fail to integrate them.

The Turks simply refused to talk to us, because they were Muslim. And most did not speak German or English.