While on my mission Rasband came to a stake conference for a zone I was in. He held a special meeting for all the missionaries in the area. He was asked what he thought was the main problem missionaries have in preaching the gospel. His answer, "Missionaries don't sing enough." He said we should sing a hymn at every appointments.

My mission president took it a step further and not only should we sing at appointments, but also whenever someone said No while we were tracting.

It was awful. My companion and I(neither of us could carry a tune) sang so many terrible first verses of I Am a Child of God trying to get people to feel the spirit. You could see the people at the door cringing and feeling sorry for us while also regretting to agree to let us sing.

Finally I had to put a stop to it and just lied to the zone leaders whenever they asked how many songs we sang that day.

That's pretty funny

Glad that was never a cunning plan in my mission

That is by far the funniest prostelytizing strategy I've ever heard.

And as always, if the 'plan' didn't work, it wasn't the plan's fault... It simply wasn't implemented correctly.

I am incredulous...

...what an amazingly BAD idea for missionaries!!!

:D

This man is an idiot!! We should track him down and street contact him and sing a song to him to sell him some newskin. I would hope he would see how effing bizarre and ineffective it is.

It amazes me what cultco leaders will put on the exploited in the group.

At least your MP didn't make you sing in the shower.

Ugh. That brought back a memory.

This was precisely how we got a family of three investigators into the church. At the close of every discussion, my comp and I would sing "I Am a Child of God." He had a guitar, liked to sing, and was fairly good at it.

It was torture on me. First, I possess zero talent. My voice is flat and metallic, with a range of about one octave. You'd think that during my billions of years in the pre-existence, I'd have found the time to take a lesson or two, but apparently not. Second, I despise this particular song above all others, bar none. But I did it anyway, and to my surprise it worked. When we sang, the family burst into tears (from what we told them was the spirit, not due to how awful I was), and were soon baptized.

Yes, we emotionally manipulated three people into joining the church by singing this terrible song. But the universe righted itself within a couple of weeks, when that same guitar served indirectly as the instrument by which I made my comp burst into tears himself.

Do tell, please. The guitar and the tears. How?

Well, since you asked…

Comp was for the most part a stickler for the rules, but was occasionally willing to break them, when it suited him. He liked to go to members' homes and play his songs. It was fine with me, since I'd just go into another room and listen to the radio or watch TV.

He was having one of these sing-alongs one particular evening. It had already been a long day and I was tired, but agreed since it was still better than tracting. On this occasion, the member was having a small party and a few other families were there. (I think everyone there was in the ward and so this wasn't an actual missionary opportunity.)

In any event, he had an audience, and he kept playing… and playing… well after our normal curfew. By around 10 PM I had a huge headache and just wanted to go back and get some sleep. When I told him, he ignored me and kept right on with that guitar.

The constant noise made my headache get worse as time dragged by. At around 11 or 11:30 I said I was done and was leaving on the next city bus, with or without him. He blew me off again; I suppose he thought that since he had the only apartment key (he was senior) I was bluffing.

Was he ever wrong. I meant it, and I did it. It was glorious because I was finally alone. No stupid companion in sight, for the first time in a year. I got back, and was indeed locked out, but I didn't care. My time and space were mine.

I sure as hell wasn't going to wait on the doorstep for comp to return, so I decided to take a nice long midnight walk to clear my head. And I did exactly that; my headache quickly vanished. It was summer (July or early August), so even in Montreal it was pleasant outside.

I walked about an hour and returned to the apartment about 1 AM. Went up to the door and banged on it a few times. When comp opened the door, his eyes were red, moist and puffy, and he was wiping his nose. It was great. I simply looked at him, and without a word he stood aside as I entered.

We never discussed it afterward. What could he say? He was stuck. He couldn't report me, since he was the one responsible for breaking curfew. I'm sure he expected me to be waiting there when he arrived, and he had no idea where I'd gone to. He knew that if he started to question me, I would have thrown it right back in his face, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Just when you think Mormonism is not enough of a cult.

I had a companion who could sing well. We were to sing at every discussion. I know we "felt the spirit." I think some others were touched as well. I can see how this is a bad idea if people can't carry a tune. I like some church hymns and primary songs... At least the tunes. People connect with music and so it is a fairly good idea.

This does not mean the church is true, of course. Many rock songs give me the chills and I feel the "spirit" there as well. In fact, even more so because they are better than the church delivers.

This companion I spoke of left the church while a Bishop. I am on my way out as well.

Heh, and you actually did it. I would have lied about it to begin with. Reminds me of the time when they had us do a 72 hour fast in our mission to get more converts. I made it to 24. Must be my fault that the baptisms did not increase.

That sounds like my mission. The great ABM.

Ridiculous!! I'm glad the holy ghost never gave anyone this bright idea on my mission!

LOL.

Sounds like the MP was doing as MPs do, and sucking up by taking it to the next level.

And my mind went to MPs and SPs trying to suck up to him even more, instituting mandatory singing in all interviews, all presidency meetings, all HT/VT visits, all phone calls gathering HT or VT reports, all Scout meetings, every Sacrament talk, every Sunday School lesson.

That could be amusing.

That's funny. I can see it now, two mishey's knocking on the door, when I big burly biker guys answer, "Get the f' off my porch you fanatical little asswipes..." to which they respond, "okey dokey sir...It wasn't really so, but it seemed to me, popcorn popping on the apricot tree." Nice one Assband.