Bribery

During the next 7-months, I began being stalked incessantly by members of this religion whose sole purpose it seemed were to just keep tabs on me. I didn’t know it at the time, but the combination of my research paper, and my decision to stop attending religious functions altogether precipitated an intense effort by “church leaders” to keep me from leaving their flock. During this time, I suddenly found myself being inundated with an ongoing series of “accidental meetings” at school and work that were clearly not really accidental at all, I also began receiving non-stop “routine” phone calls at my house, and strange visitors began coming to my house unannounced for that personal touch. I especially became tired of these never-ending visits by the strange pairs of “home teachers” who now constantly came to my house unannounced. They always asked a lot of nosey questions and inquired why I wasn’t attending church anymore. These people were also complete strangers who I had never met, and it seemed obvious they were just trying to coerce back into their religion. And, even though the personnel would change, the dynamics were always the same. There was always the “animated younger guy” who acted chipper and did all the talking, and the “older dour guy” who appeared as if his soul had been snatched, never spoke, never showed emotion and just glared. After 7-months of this, I really began feeling like my personal freedoms were being encroached upon. 

 Based on the actual facts behind what happened, I certainly didn’t feel any need to explain why I had left this religion, especially to some lackey who didn’t even know what was going on. But, on the other hand I did feel that it was important to maintain a sense dignity and honesty everyone I dealt with, including the Mormons. After all, I was planned on becoming a successful businessman and wanted people to respect me. But, I certainly wasn’t going to discuss this with anyone I had never even met before, so I eventually came to the realization that perhaps the most appropriate person to discuss this whole thing with was the ward bishop. The more I thought about this, the more I began thinking that this seemed like a pretty good idea, for a couple of reasons. First, I wanted to explain once and for all I was no longer Mormon, and had made a mistake when I joined the Mormon religion in the first place. Second, I wanted to him to put a stop to their renewed and incessant recruiting activities, which clearly seemed designed to keep me from leaving this strange religion, and had become quite annoying. Right around this same time, I also received a call from a member of the bishop’s council, whose job it would be to later to stalk me all over campus. It turns out that he called to inform me I had just been “called” to be the new coach of the young men’s softball team.

Yeah, I thought to myself, I was “called” all right; on the telephone by a guy I didn’t even know to do something I had no commitment to do and didn’t have time for. Even more incredible, I soon received a phone call from another esteemed member of this religion who was pleased to inform me I had just been “called by God” to go on a 2-year religious mission. OK, I thought, I’ll go pack my bags and get ready to be gone for two years, into the black hole of Mormonism. These people were very demanding, and treated me with a familiarity one might expect if I had been a multi-generation Mormon, or their chattel. Actually, I had only been a member of this religion for about 6-months and was just beginning to understand the strange inner workings that these people really seemed to live by. I also couldn’t help think just how obtuse these people must be to think they might really have any control over me whatsoever, or actually think I was would go off on a two-year religious mission when I wasn’t even attending their church anymore. This was all a smoke screen anyway, they really just wanted to control and keep me in their religion because of what I accidentally found out about them. So, after rebuffing pretty much every single overture they ever made to gain control over my life, I guess the church finally decided it was finally time to bring out the "big guns"e.

In November of 1977, yet another team of home teachers was sent on a mission to my house. Only this time, they weren’t just the typical stiff-necked ward drones who obviously hated what they were doing and just wanted to finish their assignment so they could go home. When I opened my door and saw who was standing there, I thought, “Oh my God, here we go again”. I also remember thinking that I needed to start looking through the window surreptitiously before I opened the door from now on as well. As I stood in the doorway sizing up this strange new duo standing before me, I realized they looked much more polished, and more senior than the other “teams” who had visited me before. I said, “Hello”, and they introduced themselves as “Elders” rather than “Home Teachers”. These two also had an unmistakable air of officialism as they stood in my doorway waiting to come in. Because I had been “surprised”, I begrudgingly beckoned them into my bunkhouse, which was adjacent to the main ranch house where my Grandparents lived, and invited them to sit down. I also couldn’t help but think how unbelievably relentless these Mormons seemed to be, and decided to make a mental note to remember and call the ward bishop so I could put a stop to this nonsense once and for all. Since they were here, I figured I’d take the opportunity to try and explain more clearly that I was not interested in being Mormon. Perhaps the meeting wouldn’t be such a waste of time after all.

I bid them in and made them feel comfortable, and the “animated” elder immediately began talking just like always. He began yammering on about his testimony, his mission to Brazil and how he had been the number one recruiter in Brazil while he was there. He seemed extremely proud of that fact and let me know it more than once. He was a smallish and slightly built weasel like little man; reminiscent of old pictures I had seen of Dr. Joseph Goebbels who was Hitler’s Nazi propaganda minister. My talkative guest was also similar to Goebbels in that he seemed quite zealous about his work and gave a very energetic oratory. His eyes were also very intense, determined and malevolent, and, I immediately distrusted him. And, after making small talk for a bit, he finally cut to the chase and said, "Lyle, everyone is very impressed with you. We really like you and we want you to stay in the Church. And, we are prepared to make you a "Young Adult Leader", which is a paid position of course". At this point, he pulled a very official looking contract out of his brief case, and reached over to hand it to me. I instinctively reached over to take whatever he was handing over, and found myself holding an 8½ by 14 legal contract typed on an onionskin watermarked bond, which was all nicely covered with a piece of navy blue cardboard that had a cutout on the front. And, as I looked through the cutout I could see the unmistakable logo that read, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints”.

The contract was typed on onionskin paper, but the entire contract was fairly thick because of the blue copy paper that was also inserted in-between each of the 6 or 8 copies of the contract. My father was an attorney and I had seen many contracts like this. And, in 1977 this was pretty much the norm for formal legal contracts prepared by large firms. After all, the very appearance of the contract was designed to make a statement. Anyway, this was quite unexpected, and I was a little stunned. I also seemed more concerned about not insulting my esteemed guests than I was about reading the contract I now held in my hands. So, rather then handing it right back, I began casually flipping through the pages for a moment in order to buy more time and think of an appropriate response. As I randomly flipped though the pages, taking care not to get blue ink on my fingers, I saw a figure of “$100,000” printed plainly on one of the pages. Further stunned by the unexpected vision of such a sum, I immediately handed the contract back and said, "Thank-you very much. I’m very flattered, but I’m not interested." I was also feeling a bit numb at this point. Sensing this, the Brazilian recruiter attempted to cut the uneasiness by using his well-honed skills of persuasion in what had obviously become a full-court press to keep me from leaving his religion. During his new monologue, the Brazilian recruiter sat on the edge of his seat in his frenzied attempt to retain me in his religion.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally asked me a question and paused as he waited for my answer. And, in what was the only moment during their 7-month onslaught to retain my soul, I suddenly felt a twinge of insecurity about my conviction to leave. I remember I even hesitated for just a moment as I responded to the beady-eyed man’s question. Amazingly, at exactly the same moment I hesitated, the master recruiter read my expression and recognized this crack in my conviction. Then, in what seemed like slow motion, he flashed a sly grin, which he immediately stifled, sat smugly back in his seat and crossed his legs as if he had just completed his work here tonight. This man’s momentary lapse telegraphed his complete arrogance, unscrupulousness and desire to say anything to keep me in this cult. And, it suddenly dawned on me he was specifically sent to my house because of his ability to close “the deal”, which was a skill he had demonstrated with great aplomb during his rainmaking days in Brazil, and which he liked to brag about profusely. Now I completely understood why these people were in my house, and I suddenly did not like this beady-eyed little man or the silent malevolent looking old man who was with him.

Still not wanting to appear rude, I proceeded to make an analogy about the Mormon religion and why I believed I didn’t fit in. I explained sincerely that I was sort of like an animal that had been born in the wild, had lived in freedom, but had subsequently been captured and placed in a zoo. Then, I made the observation that such animals didn’t usually fair well in such a confining environment because they had been born and raised in freedom. I wasn’t trying to be demeaning in anyway, I was sincerely trying to communicate how I had been brought up and how stifling I had found the Mormon religion to be. What happened next was stupefying. The beady-eyed Brazilian recruiter looked at me, and without any hesitating for an instant, responded, "You know Lyle, the world is a dangerous place, and if the animal were to somehow escape from the zoo, it could be killed." I was stunned by the implication of what this little man had just said to me. It was clearly meant as a threat and in my own home no less. Now I was angry! I immediately stood up, said, "Gentlemen, this meeting is now over, thanks for coming by", and walked over to the door to open it. And, as my guests stood up and began walking out, I turned to the Brazilian “closer” and said, "You know, you sure did a lot of talking, but you really didn't say very much."

I meant to insult and embarrass the beady-eyed little man in front of his silent and malevolent looking companion. He bristled at my comment and flashed an angry glare at me, and with that he and his silent troll companion disappeared into the darkness. Oddly enough, this wouldn’t be the last time the beady-eyed man would threaten me. At the time, I couldn’t have imagined ever seeing him again in my wildest dreams; but I was wrong. I would see him again 23-years later, in February of 2000, on a flight to from Phoenix to San Francisco. And, he would threaten my life once again as well, and in a much more overt way. I guess the one good thing I learned from my 7-months of being stalked was the full range of shameful and unethical tactics the Mormon religion seemed to use against those it viewed as dissidents. For me, their tactics now ranged from stalking, attempted bribery, coercion, intimidation and outright threats. Soon, I’d be able to add the manipulation of my grades at the University I attended as well, and not once but twice. Did I mention that the ward bishop was a Ph.D. in economics and full-tenured economics professor at the University I attended? But, he wasn’t a real Bishop in the sense he had dedicated his life to God, was an educated theologian, knew anything about the world’s religions, or had ever attended seminary. He was just a “lay bishop” with a Ph.D. in economics.

In what turns out to be another twist of the Mormon religion, the entire hierarchy of “religious leaders” is made up of “lay volunteers". And, “lay volunteers” are simply “called” perform whatever function it is they have been told to do. In reality, this means that church leaders with more seniority than you can “call” you at any moment to perform any church-related function they want you to do, whether you are committed to the function or not, regardless of your technical competency to perform the function or whether you have time to do it or not. You cannot decline your “calling” either, it is implied that “God” “called” you. “Religious leaders” in the framework of the Mormon religion are men who hold the Melchizedek priesthood, and could be insurance agents, CPA’s, I/T managers, janitors or any other of the myriad of professions that are out there. But, “God” “called” them to perform a church related function. The entire hierarchy is based on group thought and the expectation that you will mindlessly do whatever you are “called” to do. However, I was not born or raised Mormon, I had a broad perspective of the world’s religions and had actually known men with legitimate religious credentials and educations who had dedicated their entire lives to God. I had also attended numerous Protestant and Catholic churches prior to becoming Mormon, and I had never experienced anything like this before.

 What transpired during the most recent 7-months of my life, and what had just occurred in my own home seemed to personify what this religion was really all about. It became quite clear that it was not really as much about saving souls as it was about keeping souls in line, controlling the flow of potentially damaging information and working for the “collective”. It was also quite clear at this point that I was being stalked by a malevolent organization whose sole motive was to perform “damage control” and keep me in the religion where they could better control me. It was obviously paramount for this organization to keep me quiet because of the potential damage that might be caused if the true history of this religion ever got out. It was also pretty evident at this point why I was actually been offered such a generous contract. And, it was this looming “Mormon issue” that finally provided the catalyst for me to call the ward bishop and set up a meeting where I would hopefully persuade him to “call off the dogs”. However, finals were just around the corner and the ward bishop was also a full-tenured economics professor at the University I attended. Consequently, I was busy cramming for finals and he was busy preparing final exams. So, we agreed to meet the first week in January during Christmas break, which was in about 5-weeks.

That semester also turned out to be one of my most difficult semesters ever, and I needed to do well on my finals. Previously, I had been a member of the National Honor Society in high school, and was regularly on the “dean’s list”. So, I had established a prior record of being a pretty good student, but this semester was proving to be most difficult. For some reason, it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t seem to do as well as I had done before. I guess with all the craziness in my life, this was not to be unexpected. That same semester, I also happened to be taking a macroeconomics course that was “required” for business majors, and it was really hard. For the first time, I was actually becoming worried about my grades as well, and thought it might be possible for me to even receive a “D” in the class. If I did, it would be the first “D” I ever received in my entire life. When the semester was finally over, I left town to visit my parents over Christmas break, which is where I also had my report cards mailed to. It came the week after Christmas, and I remember opening it with great trepidation. But, as peeled away the front cover, I also remember seeing that incredibly I had somehow earned an “A” in the class. I just couldn’t believe it; I just figured I must have just aced the final. I didn’t know what other possible explanation there could have been. That exciting news made my drive back to Tucson all the more enjoyable, as I prepared for my meeting with the ward bishop.

About a week later, the appointed day and hour of my meeting with the ward bishop was finally here. And, I’ll never forget how cold it was as I traveled the short distance his house, which was only about a half of a mile from my Grandparents estate. The weather was freezing and everything outside seemed especially still, except every so often you could hear the lonely cry of the wind as it wisped through the air. The winter sky was covered with a translucent layer of grey clouds that partially hid the sun and made it look like a glowing orb on low power. Upon arriving, the ward bishop greeted me, and led me into his tiny office. I had no real desire be there so I immediately began explaining how I had made a mistake when I joined the Church, that I was not really a Mormon and that I wouldn’t be coming back to their Church. I figured this would also suffice to stop their incessant stalking, although I didn’t want to be rude and ask for this directly. After a moment of silence, he looked at me and said wryly, "You know, I could double my salary by getting somebody like you to stay in the Church." After being quite sincere with him, I was not prepared for such an incongruous response as this. I remember looking at him quizzically and thinking that maybe I hadn’t gotten through to him. He read my expression because after a moment, he chuckled and said, "You know, two times nothing is nothing. I'm a volunteer, and I don’t really get paid anything you know.

After having just been offered a contract by the Church to be a paid “young adult leader” within the last 6-weeks, I grimaced in disgust at the ward bishop’s overt lie and seeming lack of decency. He was no comedian either, and the witty comment he thought he had just made only added to the overwhelming stench of awkwardness that now permeated his tiny office. I guess it began dawning on him that he sounded like an ass too, and that he needed to find a way to extricate himself from his inability to relate in a normal fashion. I watched him sit there for a moment as he paused and calculated his next move. Finally, he looked at me and said senselessly, but in an upbeat and glib manner, "Say, how come you never signed up for one of my economics classes?” Never mind he only taught upper division economics classes that I would never ever take because I wasn’t an economics major. I was beginning to think this guy was a real “tool”. But, I just answered, “I don’t know.” Then, he made a comment that really floored me when he said thoughtfully, ”Oh, by the way, I heard you got an "A" in your economics class this semester.” I was immediately stunned by this comment, as well as the incredible implications of it. And, I immediately knew how I received my “A” that semester.

I stared at him in silence not knowing quite what to say, and I could feel my anger and indignation growing. Finally, I looked him in the eye and said angrily, “So that’s how I got my “A”, huh?” Realizing the gig was finally up, he responded, "I can see you are a very upstanding young man, but you are not so naïve anymore.” He then asked, ”Don't you want to live a happy life and have a wife and family to share it with? If you do you, you better stay in the Church!" I knew he had threatened me, but it was so subtle it really didn’t seem like much of a threat at all. But it was, and I wouldn’t understand the full implications of it until years later. Then, he made a reference to the research paper I presented back in May at the “Institute”, which proves he was aware of some incident I was involved in pertaining to the true history of their religion. He leaned forward and explained in a very heartfelt manner, “You know Lyle, there are Mormons who don’t always act in the name of the Mormon religion, perhaps the men involved in these events you wrote about were just rogue Mormons who were acting without the knowledge of the church.” I found his latest comment to be ridiculous, insulting and obviously a lame attempt to confuse and deflect responsibility. Apparently his superiors hadn’t informed him that the “rogue members” I referenced in my paper were Joseph Smith, Brigham Young and the entire hierarchy of the Mormon religion.

Then, he said sincerely. “Lyle, you’re a little old for the Aaronic priesthood, so I’ll tell you what, if you go ahead bring your tithe in, I’ll go ahead and make you a member of the Melchizedek priesthood.” Unbelievable, I thought, this guy just didn’t get it. This two-bit religious hack had just admitted he and the Mormons were behind the manipulation of my grades at the University! This guy seemed so out of touch with reality that maybe he really did think I was going to stay in his religion even after everything I had just said to him. Eventually, it dawned on me that this guy was no different than the other Mormons who had just come to my house and offered me money to stay in their whacky religion. This meeting seemed to reveal the true nature of this religion in all its glory. I began to realize that the divine holiness of Mormonism seemed to consist of men with no integrity who had become deluded with the perception of their own power. This seemed to be the true legacy of their Mormon Melchizedek priesthood, which is only bestowed on only Mormon males and gives them the authority to act as Gods and circumvent man’s laws, as they deem necessary to do this. The sanctity of their religion seemed to have been replaced with cheap offers of bribery because of their unsavory past, which they desperately needed to keep hidden in order to continue propagating their religion.

I’ll never forget that moment. It was reminiscent of the scene in the movie The Wizard of Oz, where Dorothy, the Tin Woodsman, the Lion and the Scarecrow finally made it to Oz and are waiting for the Wizard in an anteroom of his castle. But, the wizard doesn’t want to come out because he’s having a bad day, and there is fire and brimstone and a great booming voice that yells, “Do not arouse the wrath of the great and powerful Oz, I said come back tomorrow.” Just then, Dorothy’s dog Toto trots over to a curtain, and pulls it open to reveal a mere mortal frantically controlling everything with switches and levers. And, even though he has already been exposed the man still yells, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.” I never even responded to the ward bishop’s grand offer to bump-me to Melchizedek priesthood because I simply stood up and said, “I have to leave”. I went to the ward bishop’s house thinking I was visiting a man of God, and believing I would get some understanding and relief from my growing religious persecution. But, this so-called bishop exposed himself as just another corrupt low-level lackey who would do anything he was told to do. I couldn’t believe how corrupt and arrogant this guy had been. He actually seemed to believe I might really want to stay in his church after everything that had just happened. And, as I left his house in disgust, I only wanted to get away from this psychotic cult even more.