Called to servitude that is. Like many young men I drank so much fucking khool aid I had the shit running out my ears.. I was “called to serve” in the Italy Rome mission….. Loved everything about it except everything.

Well I loved the place, the people, the sites, the food, the everything non religious oriented… I had two greenies I abused as far as breaking all the rules go and spent many a non P day exploring catholic churches or other historical sites claiming we were using them as points of focus to talk to people……. Bahaha right.

Anyways I was thinking about how they choose where missionaries go. When I received my “mission call” ye olde apostle Christofersons brother was in my ward. Uninvited, he sat me down and told me this drama of a tale explaining how his brother described the process of “receiving revelation to decide where to send missionaries”

He went on this long spiel about how every day a different apostle is chosen to “receive revelation” I think he actually gave a talk about this in conference as well….. Let me go look that up.

Here is one link about it released last year actually..…

https://www.lds.org/new-era/2015/06/how-are-missionaries-called?lang=eng

Apparently they sit down, look at our pictures while they touch themselves, and just know where to send us and where we are “predestined” to serve…

Okay so now that everyone here knows how much a crock of shit the church is… how do you think its really decided? Spreadsheets showing whos leaving, whos coming, metrics on baptisms, metrics on apostasy of missionaries… etc?

What do you think? Give me some wild ideas too!



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/13/2016 08:44AM by buriedego.

There are simply too many names coming up for the church to make a huge fuss about it. The missionary's name and CV come up on the computer screen, and s/he is matched to an available mission opening. IMO the process is probably quick and done without a whole lot of thought. The article that you link is dressing up the process for the benefit of the faithful.

Oh crap I thought that was the correct link. Sorry! I'm sure Google will bring it up, I'm at work now avoiding supervisors prying eyes...

It was explained to me that it is done the way summer described. Each mission comes up on the computer, and the names of missionaries are also there and they are matched up until that mission has all it needs. I have been told that every once in a while the spirit tells whoever is doing the matching to change one to another mission. Also the spirit makes the names and missions magically come up together the way it is supposed to be.

I'm pretty sure they toss chicken bones into the air and then decipher the sacred code.

Dude, you went to Rome! Ah Roma, SPQR--Senatus, Populesque, Romanus--Roma. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! That's where I wanted to go. I was suppose to convert the pope (in my TBM days I was on fire, at least in my own mind). And look at me now, I'm only a Boner on RfM--not even a has-been.

But at least you went exploring. Ah, La Capella Sistina! The Pantheon, I Founti, I'm starting to cry now...Roma, now only in The Boner's wet dreams...

Seriously, I had a friend go to Vienna who never set foot in Stephensdom because it was Catholic.

My revelation was that I was going on a mission, my parents threatened to disown me and make me default on my student loans--which they demanded I take. Where was the church in all of this?

BYU bishop, "Boner, stand tall and confront your parents, they'll come around, ask you home bishop for help!"

Home bishop, "Boner, not every worthy man is supposed to go on a mission [WTF!]. We can't help you, we're already supporting a couple of missionaries."

Home Elder's Quorum President two weeks later, "Brethren, we have a tremendous opportunity to support Bishop XXX's son who is going on a mission. Please write down the amount you will contribute and put it in this envelope."

Bishop XXX's son later was sent home and excommunicated. No lie.

Der deutsches Boner.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/13/2016 01:44PM by BYU Boner.

If it weren't for the sites and food and language I would've murdered everyone.... Wow what a story haha fucking bishops.... That same thing happened to my friend so he joined the military. The bishop told him that there are more than one way to serve God and steered him there. Got dishonorably discharged later because if anyone knew this kid, he didn't belong in the military.

Yeah, the bish was a really special guy! Ironically, he's the only one I can think of who didn't ask me if I jacked off. At that time, in my TBMness, I attributed the lack of church support to my unworthiness (due to sins of the flesh). Now, I think of how naive I was! Apparently, the bishop's kid was as legendary as Don Juan for his conquests.

Did you made it to the Capuchin Tombs in Rome?



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/13/2016 07:30PM by BYU Boner.

Therefore the authorities in the 1960s were inspired to send me to Spanish-speaking Argentina where a lot of German nazis were hanging out. I got to use both languages, although I met no more than 2 dozen German speakers. Yes, and they knew my BP said I'd serve a mission abroad.

How about that--I was supposed to go to Milan, and must have been a replacement for someone who got sent home because I was the only Milano in an MTC district of Roma missionaries. Their plans were foiled when I got out of the MTC at Week 7, ha! How long was your mission, buriedego?

I don't remember the application very well, but there was probably information there on language classes taken, etc. There's probably a small department of underlings whose jobs are to match mission applicants with vacancies that then get signed off on by some low-level GA. They probably aren't all that smart either (in my case, I had several years of high school German, and I imagine this conversation:

Underling 1: "German? Well, we have an opening in Milan!"
Underling 2: "That's in Yeerup too, right?"
Underling 3: "Lookie here, how close they are on this map!"

There was a first class pretentious authoritarian asshole zone leader\AP,one of only 2 missionaries that I couldn't stand to be around. His last name? Toronto. Same as the city we were in. I think some one on the assignment staff saw the name and thought they were being clever.

Part of it is all the information that the missionary, the bishop, and to a lesser extent, the stake president fill out. I listed language courses, family ancestry, ability to travel &c. I know that doesn't necessarily decide a place, but it would add a level of sorting to the program

I loved my mission because I didn't care one whit about the numbers. I followed the rules, for the most part, but enjoyed the sites, sounds, people, food, culture of France. I loved walking and riding a bike. I came home fitter than I'd ever been. I filled out the paper work the way they wanted it to read and went on my happy way. I learned to tell priesthood leaders what they wanted to hear. I never forced myself on people. I loved street contacting because the people who didn't want anything to do with us could walk right by and the curious could stop and chat. I hated going door to door because I felt so invasive. I converted nobody. I didn't care one bit. The only down side was that two of my companions were real nut jobs. I learned a lot about dealing with difficult people. But most of my companionships were great.

The only sad thing I remember was overhearing a student at BYU after my mission telling someone how bad she felt about herself and her life because she didn't convert anyone on her mission. I felt sorry for her but couldn't understand the attitude. I always thought it was the individual's choice to accept or reject. I've never felt a need to control others.

I do think the fact that I had studied French in college had something to with where I served. Many of the other missionaries went to countries that had the language they studied. I sort of suspect that when recommendations are made by the interviewing bishop they are reviewed and sometimes, but not always, accepted. At least that's the way it seemed to go with the missionaries I knew.

C'est tres bien, Monsieur Pooped. J'ai etude le francais en dix-neuf, soixante-huit et neuf! Je ne parle pas le francais tres bien. Mais, j'aime, bien, la culture, la cuisine, et les gents. Le Bonneur.

(Please forgive any crazy mistakes, it's been over 40 years!)



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/13/2016 08:02PM by BYU Boner.

I either wanted to go foreign English speaking or if I stayed in the US California or Hawaii. I was lucky in that I got where I wanted to go: Brittania.

Loved - and still do - Britain. By the time I left I felt totally assimilated. I looked and very much thought like they did. I just "got" the country. Spent many a days wandering any historical site I could, went to a few Church of England services in cathedrals, and tried very hard not to come across as an invading Yank to those I met. (Americans are so LOUD. Including many a missionary who won't shut their pie holes.). I could have easily stayed and lived my life there.

Now as for the mission part, you know, the jack boot AP's the pretentious brown nosing Elders, the mindless hours of required tracting, dip-shit members who were offended at any and everything and the guilt, guilt, guilt heaped upon us - thats another story.

Damn, I could sure use some fish n chips right now.

An old high school boyfriend wanted to be the first missionary in the USSR (this was late 70's). Instead, this California boy got called to Oregon. I always felt bad for him.

I guess its like getting called to SLC. BFD

-Dennis