I was irritated at the segregation and embarrassed at the ridiculous getup I was in, but I tried so hard to buy it all and he a good little Mormon. I'm still angry over the time I lost in life trying to accept what I knew was absurd.
The benevolent church of my youth suddenly turned dark and sinister. Funny thing - Some of my friends had the same reaction yet as they grew older and kept attending the temple they acclimated to the weirdness and one even embraced the freak show.
I walked in thinking that I would come out being closer to God and know more of His mysteries.
I walked out thinking I must have missed something.
I think that's why they don't let you go to the temple until just days before your mission. They're not afraid you'll have sex. They're afraid you'll have enough time to say. "You know what? No. Just No." and they won't have 2 years to church break you.
I was halfway expecting the Candid Camera people to pop out from behind the Celestial Room curtain and scream: "You're on Candid Camera!", followed by all of the temple workers and other people clapping and laughing at how they punked me so good.
They all gather round after the gag is revealed and start commenting on their favorite bits.
"You should've seen your face when I started dabbing oil in your crotch area under that poncho. Priceless!"
"Yeah, but the killer shot was the look on your face when we got you to make those throat slashing and disembowelment gestures! Boy did we have you going there! And it's all on video. Hahaha!"
"My favorite was when we got him to stand around in a circle and chant 'pay, lay, ale' while wearing those goofy costumes! The look on his face was like 'what crazy Stephen King horror movie did I fall into?!'
"Okay, it's a wrap. Cookies and punch in the 'Celestial Room' ha ha ha! Get it...I said 'Celestial Room'!!"
I was a happy recent convert (less than two years) when I entered the temple. My eyes were red from crying in the celestial room after two hours of distress when I came out. I wish I had had the courage to leave the church back then, but I still couldn't accept that joining the church had been a mistake.
Isn't the bait 'n' switch the reason that Tom P. took the church to court in the UK, or am I going down the wrong path? I can't really remember the details. Anyway, it bothered me immensely when DW and I team-taught the temple preparation class, and there was hardly a thing in there that was about the temple. Then you go, and you're really surprised that it's about nothing.
cludgie Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Anyway, it bothered me immensely when DW > and I team-taught the temple preparation class, > and there was hardly a thing in there that was > about the temple. Then you go, and you're really > surprised that it's about nothing.
The temple prep class is designed to make you think that if you didn't have a wonderful experience, then something must be wrong with YOU.
I went in expecting and hoping to be spiritually astounded and, in some super wonderful way, transformed.
I left feeling transformed alright. It was as if I watched and unwittingly had to participate in a ridiculous 3rd grader's tree house ceremony, complete with the blood letting referenced in slitting throats and gushing intestines which would occur if you squealed on your friends.
The way I can best put it is I felt used, you know like a conman got the best of me. I was insulted and mad. This "temple-time" was one of the big red signs leading me out of the MormonCult.
In 1969, I was on my mission (Italian Mission), and was so pleased when my first city was Lugano, Switzerland (Italian-speaking canton of Ticino). Man, it was beautiful and a wonderful place to be. Imagine how I felt when the mission president gave my mission companion and me the opportunity to go out of the mission to Bern, and help a couple with their endowments and with their marriage. She was American, and her fiance was Italian. There was no endowment ceremony in Italian, and because I had already worked at the veil, I was tasked to bring him through the veil in Italian, because they had it translated on a card. (As a justification for travelling out of the mission, he gave my companion the opportunity to get his patriarchal blessing from the Swiss Stake (yes, that's what it was called) patriarch, Br. Ringger.
Anyway, I digress. There's a whole lot more to the story, but after we went through the endowment ceremony, we all drove in a taxi to a hotel for the marriage in the morning. In the taxi, the woman bluntly said, "Now I know why my mother said not to lose my testimony when I went to the temple." It kind of shook me, and I thought "she's right; it's weird." She thought the sealing ceremony was crap, and refused at first to kiss her husband across the alter. She was finally coaxed into giving him a peck on the cheek. Not long afterwards, they were out. I was stupid enough to go several decades more.
are planning an extra special Christmas surprise for you. You start to get excited and wonder what it could be that would be "extra special".
In February, other people are speaking in hushed tones about the amazing gift that your parents are planning to give you when Christmas comes around. You beg them to tell you what it is. They tell you that you have to wait because they don't want to ruin the surprise and, in any case, just talking about it won't do it justice.
Month after month, the build-up continues. You sometimes lie awake at night wondering about how your life is going to change when Christmas comes around. What could be so awesome that it has so many people talking about it as though it was magical and more precious than gold and diamonds?
In December, the anticipation is unendurable. People around you are asking if you're ready for the most amazing thing that has ever happened in your life.
Finally! It's Christmas day and your parents, with beaming smiles, hand you a gift-wrapped box. You carefully open it up and find a bunch of socks...socks that you knew were your older brother's socks. There must be something under the socks! You desperately dig around to find the treasure under the socks. But there's nothing but hand-me-down socks.
"These are socks" you say hesitantly, not wanting to offend your parents.
"Not just socks!" your dad tells you. "These socks belonged to your brother and were about to be thrown out because they had holes in them, but your mom and I sewed up those holes, so that you could get some good use out of these socks for a couple years or so."
This ain't no O Henry short story. Your family isn't so poor that getting used socks for Christmas is a big treat. You've already got socks. You don't really even want to wear your brother's old socks. BUT, BUT, BUT.... everyone around you is still smiling and high-fiving, and acting like someone in the family just won a gold medal at the Olympics. And, most of all, your parents are still beaming and acting like they just gave you supernatural powers that would make Superman jealous.
But, but...it's just a box full of used socks.
So confusing. So disappointing. Are you being gaslighted? Is everyone really genuinely this excited about a box of used socks? WTF? WTF????
That was basically what my temple experience was like.
...and then, while giving you the socks, your dad fondles your man-junk with an oiled hand, and says if you tell anyone, he'll cut your throat -- he makes the gesture, and orders you to do it so you'll remember.
I spent almost the entire decade of my 20s trying to keep my garments from peaking out from under my clothes. I felt like such a freak wearing them.
I wore the weird garments for 10 long years during my physical peak. What a waste of my young life when I could have been wearing Victoria Secret underwear.