While waiting for the refrigerator repairman to drop by today, I was alerted to the arrival of a pair of Mormons when Sean's chihuahua, Maqz, started barking, hackles raised on his tiny charcoal body. I opened the door, and the following conversation ensued amid much barking and growling.

ME: Hi. Sorry about the dog.

MORMON DUDE: No problem. Hey, we're just passing through the neighborhood, talking to people about life. Could we step inside?

ME (smiling tightly): Thanks, but no, thanks.

MORMON DUDE: Are you sure?

ME: Yeah. But thanks, anyway.

MORMON DUDE: OK.

They left, and that was that.

Not that long ago, I'd have been pissed off by this violation of privacy. It takes a special kind of nerve to invite yourself into someone's home to try and convert the homeowner to your point of view. But you see, here's the thing: after a few years immersed in religious studies, I've come to the conclusion that there's nothing surprising about people who act according to their beliefs. I no longer view these Mormon elders as arrogant or particularly pushy; they're simply doing what Mormons have been doing since Joseph Smith first established this most American of religions. I might think they're deluded or misguided, but they didn't try to force their way into my home, and in a free country, there's nothing to stop random people from knocking at my door. Once the problem is framed in this way, the notions of pressure and resentment go out the window: it might be rude for the pair to try and invite themselves into my house, but I'm in control of the situation-- I can say no, and there's no need for hard feelings, no need for me to view these guys as pushy or arrogant.

And that's what I told Dad when he showed up thirty minutes later: I didn't resent the Mormons the way I would have years ago. It's enough to greet them politely and send them on their way.

It occurs to me that I missed a golden opportunity to sit with these guys and find out what makes them tick. To that extent, I regret brushing them off. But as far as I was concerned, our fridge came first: I had to wait for the repairman (who was late and showed up after Dad had already come back home from his errands), and didn't want to be dealing with two sets of visitors at once.

Kevin's Walk