No E-Mail for Missionaries - I Agree

(cough)


Saturday, January 23, 1999

Too Many Letters From Home Only Serve to Distract a Missionary's Mind From His Misery

BY ROBERT KIRBY - SALT LAKE TRIBUNE COLUMNIST

If one (or more) of your kids is leaving on an LDS mission soon, don't bother getting them a laptop as a way of maintaining contact. Last month, the LDS Church announced that missionaries will no longer be allowed, with rare exceptions, to correspond with their families via e-mail or facsimiles.

So, in a world of instant access, missionaries and their families must continue to rely on the postal service. In some parts of the world, this still means donkeys, sled dogs, smoke signals and messages in bottles.

Bottom line is that if your missionary gets sent somewhere even remotely far away, count on hearing from him or her about every other week. Unless, of course, it's Canada. Then it could be every other month with the letter `r' in it, eh?

All of this is for a very good reason, which, unfortunately for many of you, will only become apparent in the next life. Those more in tune know that this orthodox stand on communication is intended to prevent missionaries from being distracted by mail from home.

Though it may surprise you, I agree. When you've been eating bugs, battling amoebic dysentery and living cheek to cheek with someone you would rather see in a bag at the bottom of a river, messages of love and support from home can be very distracting.

I know this because I went on a mission long before the advent of e-mail. Virtually all correspondence with my family was done via air mail, although the government sometimes used a boat if the plane crashed. Which it apparently did. A lot.

Each letter home from South America took two weeks and 6.5 million pesos in stamps. In fact, some days it was more stamp than letter. I can't vouch for the letters my family sent me because I'm pretty sure I didn't get half of them.

As for the letters I did get, some had been mauled by animals, while one or two others were partially burned. Also, I once forked over $25 to "help" a package clear customs, only to find out that it was a small birthday card.

This is still better than Elder Mutz. Nineteen months after his girlfriend mailed it, he received the wedding announcement that finally cleared up the mystery as to why she hadn't been answering his letters.

That's the drawback with snail mail. The lag time can be a killer (literally). What you get to know isn't always in keeping with what you need to know. Which, come to think of it, is why the Information Age was born.

Parents: "Do you need anything, son?"

Elder: "Please send soap and mosquito repellent."

Parents: "Be sure to tell us if you need anything."

Elder: "I really could use some anti-venin and a bear trap."

Parents: "We are so proud of you. Can we send you anything?"

Elder: "Please, a revolver. I'm begging you."

Parents: "Finally got your letter, dear. Don't worry, we are sending plenty of dandruff shampoo . . . ."

Granted, it's not always that bad. Sometimes the only thing wrong is that the news is outdated. That's OK because, frankly, it's hard to serve God in South America when you really would rather be back in Utah killing your little brother for wrecking your truck.

If there's one thing mission correspondence taught me, it's that nothing is more conducive to keeping the spirit than being kept in the dark.

Salt Lake Tribune columnist Robert Kirby lives in Springville. The self-described "OxyMormon" welcomes mail at P.O. Box 684, Springville, UT 84663, or e-mail at rkirby@sltrib.com.


Back to Home Page


Page Modified January 24, 1999