Our Mormon Neighbors

Photo by Rich Seeley

O Give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: because his mercy endureth for ever. Psalms 118:1

We live upstairs from an apartment occupied by young Mormon missionaries.

I have to admit that at 62, I am incredulous that some twenty-something is wearing a badge that identifies him as an "Elder."

The Mormon missionaries turn over every few months. One new group once asked me if I had been proselytized by former groups.

I said I am a confirmed Lutheran, hence all the beer you see me bringing upstairs.

This is bad fudging on my part. I have not been in a Lutheran Church in at least two decades.

Since 1969 I have been hanging with Hindus and Buddhists.

Is there such a thing as a Zen Lutheran?

I have no idea.

My beliefs or concepts merge Hindu, Buddhist and Christian teachings.

I am dangerously New Age.

An Irish Catholic friend believes I am a closet Catholic because I read Thomas Merton.

Oh well.

The point is I am not a missionary field for the Mormons.

When backed against a wall, I will throw in my lot with that ill-tempered borderline alcoholic egomaniac Martin Luther as opposed to whatever and whoever the Morons have to offer.

However.

I want to say something good about these Mormon missionary kids.

These Mormon kids downstairs are the best neighbors we've ever had.

They do not get rowdy and play loud music after 10 p.m. The police and paramedics don't visit them on a regular basis. They are polite and are not dealing drugs.

They do whatever they do to bring the good news of Mormonism to the great unwashed of Palm Springs, California.

The photo above shows some kind of giant stuffed animal that the Mormon missionaries have placed on their patio.

If you are not a Mormon, if you have ill-feelings about them from some childhood or adult experience, you will not love what I have to say.

I don't know where they got this giant stuffed animal, but it gave me the subject for the best photograph I have made in a long time.