I collect two things: bookmarks and wacky, true sacrament meeting stories. The amateur historian in me insists that my accounts come from someone who was actually present when the event happened. But even with that stipulation, I’ve acquired a good collection of crazy stories. I’m sure all religions attract some quirky members with, ah, interesting ideas and approaches to speaking in church or praying or the like. I just particularly enjoy our own LDS brand of wackiness.
Take, for example, my most recent acquisition:
The bishopric appeared pleased that Sister Somewhat-less-active agreed to speak in sacrament meeting on her favorite topic, family history. But they must have been surprised when she announced, “I may not come to church much, but I’m d*!# good at family history.” She continued her talk, liberally sprinkled with the “nice” swear words, but the bishop turned white when one of her concluding statements was that she thinks “family history is bi#$@-in’.”
I don’t necessarily wish my young, impressionable children had been there for that, but you can be dang sure I’m adding it to my collection. I was in attendance at a fast and testimony meeting when a sister from South America bore her testimony about how disrespectful and immodest Americans are for allowing their children to wear pants to the primary program practice in the chapel. Apparently, it is a casual practice that would never happen in her home country. The testimony was long (10 or so minutes) and quite in-depth. The next sister to the pulpit announced that she “couldn’t agree more,” and bore her testimony about how too many women don’t wear pantyhose to church, a casual practice as disrespectful as wearing flip-flops. It was after that lengthy testimony that the bishop felt he needed to get up and explain that he wasn’t “one to know about women’s pantyhose,” but he was sure “we were all trying to be respectful and reverent in our buildings and will try harder.”
Well, at least no one fell asleep that day.
I could tell many more stories. I could tell you about the man who brought a glossy, 8 x 10 photo of his new car so he could visually demonstrate that his car is worth “$72,000. Yes, that’s right: $72,000!” Apparently, the $72,000 car helps demonstrate that the atonement is “priceless.” Or I could tell about the closing prayer in which a sister prayed that “we can solve the mystery of the missing David Jones,” a man later discovered to have ditched his family and headed to California. [By the way, I changed the name in that one, but the rest is absolutely true.]
Perhaps my all-time favorite is the elderly sister who bore her testimony on fast Sunday about how wonderful all the ward members had been during her husband’s recent “scrotum surgery.” People had brought meals and sent cards, showing true charity in the recovery after the scrotum surgery. Truly, she had seen the goodness of God because of her husband’s scrotum surgery. She sat down and her husband marched in a stiff gait to the pulpit. He leaned in close and announced loudly, “It was my sternum,” then marched back to his seat.
I love my stories, but some are getting old. Can you add to my repertoire? Remember: firsthand knowledge of the story. If you don’t want to add to my sacrament meeting story collection, you could always send me a bookmark.
Facebook has a page called, “overheard at the pulpit” Some great stuff!
This is hilarious. The scrotum story is DEFINITELY the best. Too good to be true. I don’t have any crazy sacrament stories yet, but I’m young and we still have a few more years in New York. I’m sure they’ll come.
you also might enjoy:
http://overheardintheward.com/
My dad interviewed an elderly woman for a temple recommend last month and asked her if she sustained the prophet. “I sure do! Who is it now?” He told her, and a minute or so later asked if she wore her garments. “Well, let me check,” she replied, as she started to undress.
One of our favorite Sac Mtg moments recently was when a new deacon got up and bore his testimony of how grateful he was to leave Primary now that he was “in with the big dogs.”
Growing up in Arlington VA, we also had a memorable moment when an elderly man bore his testimony and had a heart attack there at the pulpit and died.
Your intro story – that’s my ward! Best. Sacrament meeting. EVER!
I was thinking about adding one, but, hey, after the scrotum story, it all pales.
There’s Sister L. in my ward, elderly, former Mormon Tabernacle Choir member, normally so dignified that they should probably use her picture in the dictionary next to “aristocratic,” speaking three or four years ago in the Sacrament Meeting closest to July 4th, who stated in her talk that what was wrong with this country was that when politicians unzipped their pants, their brains fell out.
In my in-laws’ ward just outside of Park City, a member of the bishopric bore his testimony in Sacrament about talents and how grateful he was for them. His talent? The knack to artificially inseminate cattle. No freaking joke.
I once attended a ward in my in-laws’ stake where a man told a story in his talk about his UFO sighting and then said, “I totally know where Joseph Smith was coming from when no one believed his story about the First Vision because no one ever believes me when I tell them about how I saw a UFO.”
a sister bore her testimony, well if we can call it that, about how she was angry at this one guy for something…i can’t remember now…but in her anger, she threw a dead cat, or a dead raccoon on this guy’s car. She later told of how she took her daughter and her daughter’s friend around the town. They pulled over on the side of the freeway where she had seen a flock of birds gather around. She felt compassion for the birds. She thought they were hungry, so she got a piece of raw steak and stuck it to a freeway sign in the hopes the birds would come to feast. They didn’t, and she wondered why.
A woman got up to bear her testimony a few days before she moved out of the ward. She explained how, in a previous ward, an elderly brother pulled her aside in a classroom in their chapel and taught her how to speak in tongues. She explained how it was a very sacred experience, and then she said, to my delight and the poor Bishop’s utter shock, “I’d like to demonstrate it for you now.”
She gripped the pulpit with both hands, fixed her eyes on the accordion door at the back of the chapel, and started, “Mecka-lecka-meeky-leeky…” This went on for a good minute while the bishopric squirmed. Finally she ended the speaking in tongues, closed her testimony in english without any explanation of what she had just “said” and sat down in the congregation. The next week the Bishop took up a good portion of sacrament meeting with a talk he had prepared to mop up the damage. Good times.
Several years ago in Virginia, a woman began sharing her testimony about modesty. She explained that her 16-year-old daughter, who was sitting in the row behind us, wanted to buy thong underwear. The dear woman explained in detail why thong underwear was not modest. Her daughter bolted from the chapel, mortified.
Ok so this isn’t nearly as embarassing as some of the other stories. We had a young deacon in our ward, come up to bear his testimony a few months ago. He started talking about being pure in your intentions and doing what’s right all the time…and started to veer into “And kids in this ward DON’T do that, they don’t stand up for other people, and they think they’re hot shots”….and went on and on about how spineless the young men are, and how he will ALWAYS stand up for other people and never let others get bullied, etc. The best part? He ended with “And if you don’t like what I”m saying- then that’s FINE, but I am RIGHT.” Then he sat down. No name of the Lord, or anything.
I definitely have a “weird” one.
I was a missionary in the late 1980s in Florida. It was fast and testimony meeting and several members had born their testimony. Some were very heartfelt and their had been some tears.
The next person up was a man I didn’t know, but I gathered he was the husband of an investigator, so it was likely this was his very first Church meeting. He got up and talked about how much it sucked to be unemployed and how much it “hurt” and he shed some tears. No testimony, no spiritual thought. I think he mistook fast and testimony meeting for group therapy.
I definitely have a “weird” one.
I was a missionary in the late 1980s in Florida. It was fast and testimony meeting and several members had born their testimony. Some were very heartfelt and their had been some tears.
The next person up was a man I didn’t know, but I gathered he was the husband of an investigator, so it was likely this was his very first Church meeting. He got up and talked about how much it sucked to be unemployed and how much it “hurt” and he shed some tears. No testimony, no spiritual thought. I think he mistook fast and testimony meeting for group therapy.
I was glad me and my companion didn’t have any investigators attending that day.
On my mission in Ecuador, an investigator got up in fast and testimony meeting. “Cool”, I thought. Then he proceeded to tell us, “Good news, brothers and sisters. The Virgin Mary appeared to me in a dream last night to tell me this is the true church!”.
We later mentioned to him that some things might be too sacred to share…..
That scrotum/sternum story is as old as the hills, and I don’t believe it.
I enjoy this topic because it suggests to me that no matter how ‘normal’ we think we are, most of us will likely do something sometime that will give the Lord an opportunity for at least a chuckle.
During my mission I was serving in a Spanish-speaking branch when one brother was speaking on Mother’s Day. He said he felt it would be appropriate to honor the mother of Jesus, and lifted his hands to pray loudly: “Madre de Dios, adonde vamos!” The prayer continued for a minute or two and he then finished his talk and sat down. My companion and I tried hard to act normal during the rest of the meeting.
On my mission in France, I served in a small branch out in the countryside. The Branch President asked one of the new converts to speak in sacrament meeting the following week. Because the member was new, the branch president asked him to just bear his testimony, rather than prepare a full talk.
So the next Sunday arrived, and the branch president, who was conducting the meeting, asked the member from the pulpit if he would come to the front and bear his testimony.
“I can’t,” the new member answered from the congregation. “I lost my testimony.” A wave of panic immediately washed over the missionaries.
Not sure how to proceed, the branch president asked, “You lost your testimony?”
“Yes. I left my testimony at home.” It was then we realized the new member had written his testimony out on paper and left the document at home. He had lost the paper, not his actually testimony. I think. Either way, the member got out of speaking and one of the missionaries had to fill in.
I’m jealous. All the horrifying testimonies in my ward are boring.
This isn’t a sacrament meeting story, but it’s close. And I think it’s funny.
My brother went on a mission to Texas. One week he and his companion decided to attend a local Pentacostal revival at the invitation of one of their investigators. Not wanting to cause a stir, the missionaries entered before the meeting began and quietly sat down on the last row in the back of the room. One of the congregants saw them sitting in the back and approached them.
“Why don’t you come sit up front?” she asked.
“No, that’s OK,” my brother said, trying to be polite. “I’m shy.”
And before he knew it, the woman reared back her hand, smacked my brother in the forehead with terrific force and said in a loud voice, “IN THE NAME OF JESUS I HEAL YOU OF YOUR SHYNESS.”
So they moved up to the front.
I remember one fast & testimony meeting that happened right before Independence Day. Our bishop was conducting and shared (again) that his ancestors were part of the Martin-Willie handcart company, and how grateful he was for their heritage. Another brother stood up and related that he had at least one ancestor serve in the U.S. armed forces in every war going back to the Civil War, and he was grateful for their heritage. Yet another person stood up and shared a pioneer story. Then Brother M., who immigrated from Morrocco stood up and deadpanned, “I just wanted to let you all know that my great-great grandfather was Abraham Lincoln. It’s TRUE! … Actually, it’s not true, I made that up.” I don’t know if he realized it, but he turned an otherwise-typically-boring sacrament meeting filled with story after story of whose ancestors are cooler than whose into one of my favorite moments in that ward.
We have an elderly sister in our ward who is one of those true originals. You never know what will come out of her mouth. A few years ago, she bore her testimony and mentioned her mother, who had suffered from breast cancer, “and they WHACKED her breasts off.” This was repeated several times. One time she spoke on the life of President Benson and afterwards I had to go out in the hall and laugh for 10 minutes. I hope I live next door to her in the resurrection.
A very young man who just got married spoke a couple of months ago. I’m not sure how much he prepared ahead of time. During his talk he said “crap,” “turds,” and then when talking about some small children’s behavior he said “they were just acting retarded…errr I mean inappropriate…errrr unprofessional!” He was pretty entertaining. :)
A high councilman once brought a companion speaker along, who spent the whole time telling about how he had received spiritual help in expanding his business and building a new slaughterhouse, against all odds in this slaughterhouse-averse area. We never saw that guy again.
I try never to fall asleep in Sacrament, because once I did so and the missionary who was speaking passed out at the pulpit. All the most interesting stuff happens when you fall asleep.
And then there was the time a family with two small children was sitting in the front row. During the bishop’s talk, they started wandering around, looking for places to play, and they eventually settled on the sacrament table. Another brother in the ward saw what they were doing and feared they would end up pulling the tablecloth, together with the trays, right off the table. Fearing that the resulting crash might be rather disruptive, he walked up and started to try to gently (but still physically) coax the children back to the pews.
Suddenly, the kids’ father (who had, until that moment, appeared to be dozing off) jumped up and shouted, “Don’t you EVER F*#@ing TOUCH MY KIDS” while grabbing the man by the necktie with one hand and pushing his forearm up against his throat and shoving him out the door and into the hallway. Half of the elders quorum immediately followed, though we were never sure if they wanted to help or just watch.
Okay, just one more.
When I was a missionary in Bulgaria, our branch met in a restaurant, which was usually not heated very well. One day a little boy (who was about 6, I think) turned to his mom and loudly announced, “Mamo, studeno mi e na guza mi!”
Translated: “Mommy, my ass is cold!”
We had this fellow in our ward and he was a little bit…off. He stood up, and for twenty solid minutes blasted several members of the ward. Entire families were just getting up and walking out. “You know Family X? They live a block away from me, and do you think they ever do the Christian thing and visit me? Yeah, like they are actually true Christians.” He spoke of his landlord, and said he was “jewing him out of money”. He finished by going on a twenty minute rant about how his mother mistreated him by allways calling him a (direct quote) “little jack….well, I’ll let you fill in the rest.”
During stake priesthood this little old man got up to bear his testimony. He spoke for ten or so minutes about his application to receive a top secret government clearence (not uncommon in my area) and how he was there at Rockwell and the establishment of Area 51. He then described how the aliens looked and acted, and the government coverup. He never mentioned the gospel or Christ, until he ended in his name.
Funny stuff.
I would just like to add my witness to all of Harpchil’s posts. I was present at each one of these events and they really happened. I now look forward to our Sacrament meetings just in case something good happens ;)
When I was a teenager, a man who was maybe in his early 20s was asked to speak. He talked all about how if you’re at BYU but didn’t go on a mission, how the girls won’t go out with you. So he explained in great detail how to fake garments by placing rubber bands just above your knees under your pants and buying scoop necked tshirts. And how when he went out with girls they would always stroke his legs looking for the telltale garment line, and after they had found it they would make out with him. The adults are all mortified while he’s saying this, but we kids were taking notes!
Once I was in a testimony meeting where a young newly married sister got up to express gratitude for her husband, specifically for the fact that he exercises a lot and keeps his body in really good shape. Suddenly her testimony was interrupted by a loud “booooooo!!” from an old brother on the back row.
I’ve often thought since then that if he can express agreement by saying amen, it’s only natural that booing should also be allowed.
There’s a brother in my ward in his late 50s who has never been married. During one testimony meeting, he got up and asked the congregation to pray for him to receive the “spirit of courtship” so that he might find a “sweet handmaiden of the Lord.”
That was 6 years ago. Ladies, he’s still available.
It was a “missionary farewell” in our ward’s sacrament meeting. The missionary invited his best friend to speak that Sunday and the Bishop approved it. The guest speaker was about 25 and, unnoticed by the bishopric, set up a boom box next to the pulpit and connected it to the sound system.
He started his talk by praising the missionary’s past life and thanking him for his friendship. He said he had a present for him. He reached down, hit the play button and ardently sang along with R. Kelly’s song “I Believe I can Fly,” snapping his fingers in front of the microphone in time to the music.
But that is not the funny part. It was that the Bishop and his counselors didn’t know what to do, so they closed their eyes and pretended they were asleep through the entire episode.
Yet another time, a young girl was bearing her testimony about how God helped her find her lost cat. She detailed how she searched her home and yard thoroughly for hours. She said she was prompted to pray about it and then felt inspired to check the upstairs closet. She concluded that she “opened the closet and there the son of a B*#@$ was!”
I was there in EQ when the bishop went on a rant about music. He started with rock (we’ve heard it before) and spent a half minute on hip hop. But the brunt of his ire was reserved for country music. We got a five minute rant about how listening to country music will make a man start to drink beer and whiskey and pick up women. I don’t know if there was some precipitating incident behind the rant, but it was pretty awesome.
I will never forget a Testimony Meeting back in 1980 when I was a youth. A somewhat elderly Sister gave a good 15-minute travel log of her recent vacation, which put far too many people to sleep, and the rest wish they were asleep. My dad then gets up to share his testimony, and in an effort to stir things up a bit and get everyone’s attention, he YELLS a 30 second Maori chant he learned on his mission to New Zealand in the early 1950’s, complete with the dance and tongue action. I slumped in the pew in complete embarrassment. But I actually am quite proud of him now for doing that.
A couple of weeks ago we had an unfamiliar sister get up during testimony meeting. It turns out she was not a member of the church and went into a dialogue about how she appreciated the testimonies shared but that really we needed to have a sermon instead. The bishop got up and quoted the eleventh article of faith. “We claim the aprivilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them dworship how, where, or what they may.”
You won’t be able to use this in your collection, because I wasn’t there, but I heard it from an eyewitness that I trust. Fast and Testimony meeting in the Single’s ward was exceptionally boring and one guy fell completely asleep. During one of those pauses where nobody goes up to bear their testimony, this guy’s buddy wakes him up and tells him that the Bishop just announced that he would be giving the closing prayer, which he did.
Good laughs. Maybe we should be surprised that testimony meeting goes well as often as it does
I sometimes find it helpful to think of testimony meeting as open mic morning.
My husbands grandma was quite hard of hearing and in our old church building there were curtains pulled back to divide the room. One sister got up to bear her testimony from the floor which was pretty common practise in those days. Unfortunately she was gave more of a travelog than a testimony and went on for quite along time. She was also at the wrong angle for grandma to see her because of the curtains. In the middle of the sisters testimony, Grandma got up and in her very loud voice said,” I hate to see the time go to waste…” and proceeded to bear her testimony. The sister, very embarrassed, sat down. My grandpa who was bishop at the time was red faced and not doing a very good job of holding back his laughter. It has been a favorite story passed down through the years.
The other exciting thing that happens in sacrament meeting usually happens on fast sunday with the aaronic priesthood brethern. I can recall at least 6 boys who have passed out while trying to perform their duties. usually the ones standing by the door or lined up to march back to the sacrament table. One hit the sacrament table on the way down. The loudest was when they were lined up and trays crashed. It happened so often that it became part of training for the young men what to do if they felt faint. It was okay to sit down, put your head down and don’t lock your knees.
Bishopric was squirming yesterday as a sweet sister giving a talk, read to us her dad’s entire patriarchal blessing. Might need a Church Handbook entry on what not to say from the pulpit.
And a few months back, a brother said he had rebuked the elements and ended a blizzard.
Can’t believe all of these because some of them are familiar stories told before. Mormon myth is a reality. But, there has been some strange remarks given from the pulpit, especially during Testimony meetings. Regardless how much we teach what a testimony is, members still misuse this meeting. I do have one incident to share. A young couple in our ward struggled for years to have children. They fasted, prayed, did their duty in the church, but still no children. During a testimony meeting the young man bore his testimony that he and his wife were fasting for her to be pregnant and that after being together last night(fill in the story) they knew that she was pregnant and the baby was conceived at that time. I was the bishop and could hardly keep from falling out of my chair. Needless to say I counseled with them afterwards in my office about some things being kept private.
Not sure you can print this one. When our children were small we moved to a very rural area in Idaho. Our first week there was Fast and Testimony meeting and an older guy was talking about someone that had just passed away. He said, “he was a helluva guy”. My kids laughed and we all looked around but no one reacted so we just took it in stride.
There is an old saying when one gets emotional that went something like “I guess my eyes are too close to my bladder”. A great guy in the ward and a good old cowboy who wasn’t fully active got up to speak when the grandson he raised was leaving for his mission. He was having a hard time emotionally. Instead of using the above old phrase he kept saying as he cried, “I guess my balls are too close to my eyes”. The first time he said it I didn’t know if that is what he said but he repeated it two or three more times just so we all heard it clearly.
A few months later he bore his testimony again and used the same phrase. Of course it was not only the deacons that were having a hard time not laughing.I made eye contact with no one. It finally got so I would leave the chapel if I saw him get up but I don’t know that he ever used it again. It added real color to the meeting.
I’ve been in sacrament meetings a couple of times when this happened: A bored youth leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, with his elbows on the back of the pew in front of him. As he fell asleep, his arms relaxed, and his head slipped and fell with a loud bang against the back of the pew. Ouch!
But the sacrament meeting our family remembers the best happened one Fall when a new convert, known for his love of Football, was asked to give the closing prayer. He gave a conventional prayer until near the end when he added, “And God bless the Washington Redskins.”
I remember a fast and testimony meeting in Mt. Pleasant, Utah, 30 years ago when a recently reactivated brother stood tearfully to describe at length and in detail the miracle of his reversed vasectomy. I also remember from my childhood in central Utah one memorable meeting when Bro. Steele was bearing his usual powerful witness about the catastrophes coming in the last days and just as he sat down we had an earthquake! Not a large one, but certainly enough to make us sit up and take notice. I always had more respect for Bro. Steele after that.
1) Toddler spills cheerios all over the pew. Mom yells out “oh #@$%!” loudly enough for all to hear during the quiet passing of sacrament.
2) I love ‘sin-i-monies’ where people being their born-again stories by describing all the nitty-gritty details of their former lives as sinners (nude sunbathing, marajuana use, getting pregnant- listing the people they’ve slept with, stories describing times when they’ve been drunk/high, stealing, etc.) You can see the youth taking notes.
will make myself more anon on this, just in case:
* Kudos to the brother for correcting his wife on her goof in naming the surgery!
* about 12 years ago in one ward, a sis was sharing her testimony about how she was grateful her husband’s vasectomy had been able to be reversed. Can’t recall if she had just had a baby or was expecting, but I felt bad for her husband.
* in another ward a sweet sincere sister from another sister bore her testimony, in part about getting over a certain infection. I was stunned to hear the type of infection (mastitis) and thought to myself, did I really hear her say mastitis? She shared her gratitude of being able to continue to breastfeed her child, in addition to other things. I can understand her joy and gratitude, I realize our testimonies sometimes come from deeply personal experiences. But still!
eta:
in the above story about the lady w/the husband who had had a vastectomy reversal, that testimony was shared in Relief Society.
Paul Brock: did the couple you mention end up pregnant?
I witnessed this many years ago:
An elderly man stood to bear his testimony in a ward where a microphone was passed among the members, allowing them to speak without leaving the pews. This brother appreciated the opportunity to stay at his seat, but he had not noticed other members using the microphone. He seemed puzzled when the woman next to him handed him the microphone, and he looked to her for an explanation. She told him that people used it in order to be heard more clearly. He still seemed uncertain, but he proceeded with his testimony, now holding the microphone to his ear. Most of the congregation still couldn’t hear him. After a few sentences he paused again. As he looked down at the sister next to him, he lowered the microphone near his mouth and said in frustration, “The damn thing doesn’t work!”
I remember being extremely aware that the times in sacrament meeting where everyone is silent would be the worst possible time to start laughing and that idea would fester in my mind until I start snickering which sometimes would set off like minded individuals which would sent me into fits. Especially reading from that thing under the table with the bread and water… having a MICROPHONE and everyone being silent, the inappropriateness of laughing was so explicitly clear I just couldn’t stop myself, and heaven forbid the other guy mess up a word… The way those old guys used to stare I thought I was going to get zapped with lightning.
We were living in the Seattle area several years ago when “The Star Spangled Banner” was to be sung as the closing song in Sacrament Meeting. It had been a long meeting so the bishop announced that we would sing only the first verse. As the congregation hit the last not of “…the home of the brave” a six-year-old sitting in the back of the chapel yelled in his loudest outside voice, “Play ball!”
In our ward in NY, a young man who had been recently sealed to his wife gave a talk about temple marriage. He told us that his wife was a new convert, so they were originally planning to wait a year after her baptism and then get married in the temple. However, they ended up getting married civilly, then getting sealed a year later. He shared that the reason they decided to get married civilly was because “I was really tired of taking cold showers.”
During the sacrament, a little girl about 3 or 4 years old was getting pretty fussy. Her dad does the grab-and-haul routine, football style, to get her out of there quickly. Appealing to a higher power to come to her aid, the little girl wailed “Bishop!!! SAAAAAAAAAAAVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
On my mission, I quickly learned NEVER TO SLEEP IN CHURCH, for two reasons: 1) you missed the good stuff, and 2) you had to stop the good stuff. There was one guy who, on multiple occasions, bore his testimony about the time he and his wife had gone to a town records department to do research for their family history, and had found a treasure trove of valuable information. Alas, the copier was broken! So he had his wife close and barricade the door to the copy room, after which he laid his hands on the copier, blessed it to work, and of course (it wouldn’t be a testimony otherwise), it began working again.
From my brother’s mission (maybe it doesn’t count since this is actually third-hand), they had a good solid member tell them the story of how his non-member mother called him in distress over her ailing guinea pig. She called him because he “knew about religious stuff.” He agreed to come over and see what he could do, but she insisted that the poor little varmint was at death’s door and couldn’t wait. So he instructed his mother to place her hands on the guinea pig and repeat what he told her. Just for good measure, he then put his own hands on his own head, and proceeded to bless that guinea pig back to health. While my brother didn’t hear this story in Sacrament meeting, he was later assured that it was regularly recounted from the pulpit.
My husband and I have a running joke now because last year a girl in our ward concluded her talk by quoting an entire Michael Jackson song. It’s the one from Free Willy that starts out something like “Hold me like the River Jordan”. The lyrics don’t really make sense and I have no idea why she was quoting it in her talk. I had the hardest time not laughing and I can’t believe no one else did.
Also, on my mission, I witnessed an actual fistfight in Relief Society during a lesson on the law of chastity because some newer sisters were deeply offended by the notion that sex in marriage was OK to do just for fun.
A brother who was known to go to the temple at 6am on Saturday mornings and do over 1000 baptisms walked up to the pulpit on fast and testimony meeting with a large shopping bag. He started bearing his testimony about family history work and temple work and how when you do the work for these people, you can feel their spirits and get to know them. And as you get to know them, you can tell that some of them have gentle spirits, like this teddy bear. He then took a bear out of the bag and put in on the podium. He then continued this, piling several more stuffed animals out of his grab bag onto the podium. The grand finale was his ancestor’s spirit that was noble like a horse – cue the horse head on a stick. Lucky for us, this particular horse played music – the William Tell Overture…which he played into the microphone.
One of the highlights of my youth in the SF Bay Area was one sacrament meeting where an old deaf gentleman dozed off during the benediction. Apparently he was very relaxed and just before the “Amen” he let loose a giant fart that reverberated throughout the chapel. A bunch of us deacons started laughing until the smell drifted our way. You never saw the chapel empty out so fast!
Years ago, in a singles ward, a wonderful sister was teaching Sunday Scool class and encouraged us not to be “half-***ed” Mormons. I laughed so hard I almost died.
We had a woman tell us in her testimony that her daughter had tried to kill herself and then asked her daughter to stand up so we could all look at her. Uncomfortable is not nearly strong enough to express how many of us felt. I am sure the daughter was horrified.
Doesn’t quite count as “wacky,” but one of the best lines I’ve ever heard in a testimony…a woman in our ward was bearing her testimony in response to a major catastrophe her family had experienced, and expressed gratitude that the event had helped her realize that her family had been “living a champagne lifestyle on a beer budget.”
My wife and I just about fell out of the pew laughing ecstatically, but had to suppress our glee when we quickly looked around and noticed nobody else seemed to have so much as batted an eye.
If you want some great sacrament meeting stories, you should check the “Adventures in Arizona” thread at Mormon Mommy Wars. It’s a classic.
One more. Again, personal witness. On my mission in Spain I worked in the English branch. We always knew that the members we worked with held their tounge significantly during sacrament meeting. (The “F-word” is not a swearword in their vocabulary, but as non-Africans also attend the local English branch, they hold back) Anyway, a new convert got up to the Microphone, bears his testimony and towards the end yells the phrase:
“Everyone here knows that Joseph Smith was a mother-f!@@#%$^ing prophet!”
Listened to a woman in testimony meeting bear testimony about paying tithing. They only had enough to pay the rent or tithing, but they exercised faith and paid the tithing instead. Sure enough the Lord blessed her. On her way home the next day she saw a car broken down on the freeway and she stopped to see if she could help. No one was near the car, the people had left. But what is that on their front seat? Why, the exact amount of money she needed for her rent! So she took it and thanked God for providing.
I looked at my wife and asked, did she really just testify about stealing money from a car? Yep, she sure had!
I remember, when I was a teenager, a semi-active guy who got up and announced to his wife during his testimony, “Honey, I want another baby! I want to start right away!!” I remember thinking “well I guess the whole ward knows what’s on their agenda tonight.” (and within the year they had another)
Also, though not a sacrament meeting talk, still cringeworthy– we took a non-member friend to Gospel Essentials class. The teacher (a ward member–and soothing of a weird character) somehow got completely off topic (well at least I assume so, lol) and started talking about bestiality. Our friend, who spoke English as a second language,asked me for clarification of the word bestiality. All I could think of was “how the he’ll did we get HERE??”
That’s hell. DYAC!
Two quickies…
1. Young man blessing the sacrament for the first time messes up and in the microphone says “oh S&#t.”
2. Ward in Mexico, a man who works as a mime on the street stands up each fast Sunday, bears his testimony about the Lamanite blood flowing through his veins, and declares that he will now pay his tithing. He grabs the envelope from his left shirt pocket, holds it for all to see, turns 180 degrees, bows, and hands it to the bishop. He does this each month (at least he did when I was there in 2004).
sorry….story 1 happened in Duluth MN in about 2000.
I haven’t had any really fun ones since I moved to Utah, but one of my favorites was when a brother in my singles ward stood up and tearfully bore testimony at length of how the Lord had helped him single-handedly win a church basketball game. He even compared himself to Moses, holding his staff over his head with Aaron’s help so that the Israelites could win a battle.
Another good one was a missionary farewell where the missionary’s non-member uncle was asked to give the closing prayer. He gave a couple of lines of a very convincing prayer, and then stopped mid-sentence to say “By the way, I’m Travis’ uncle, and I have a few words to say.” And proceeded to give a 10-minute talk about who knows what, then close with “so… uh… yeah. Amen.”
I’ve also experienced a kid being dragged from sacrament meeting screaming for the bishop, it was classic!
My story is actually, well, my story.
At age 5 or 6 I had to go to the bathroom during sacrament meeting. Returning to my pew afterwards, I sat down next to the man who would become later on my step-father. I had something really important to tell him, so I whispered (loud enough for about 3 rows of people around to hear) “Hey, Bill! You know what?” The poor man new not what was coming and asked “What?” “Green poop stinks!”
My family has never let forget it.
While passing the sacrament as a Deacon, I vomited in the aisle. I was so mortified that I just turned and faced the wall like nothing happened. I hoped nobody noticed even though it was clear to see that I had eaten French toast that morning. A sister gave me a baby bib to wipe my face with and trying to avoid the problem, I asked “What’s this for?” Someone then escorted me to the bathroom where I vomited again – probably from embarrassment.
In a testimony meeting five wards/branches ago, a man who I had never seen before stood at the pulpit and said he had had a spiritual experience with someone in attendance while at the temple. He then said he needed that person to call out his new name from the temple. He got agitated and said this a couple of other times while everyone either looked at each other or the floor. Then he exasperatedly left out the emergency exit at the front of the chapel, slamming the door open as he went. Never saw him again or asked what his back story was. Kook.
I was actually there when:
A young man, speaking at his missionary farewell, said: We just got back from California and I gotta say, the weather here in Utah SUCKS!!!
On my mission I attended a baptism for the investigator of the elders in our area. A caucasian woman gave the talk on the Gift of the Holy Ghost. She said to the still damp haired convert (who appeared to be of Hispanic decent–she had darker skin): I know we are sisters. We have the same Father in Heaven… though maybe not the same Mother in Heaven…
(I was glad I wasn’t going to have to mop up after that one)
Me. In the days before air conditioning I had attended choir practice the hour before our evening sacrament meeting. I had worn Bermuda shorts because of the heat and humidity (August in NJ). I had long pants to change into. However, I thought, singing in the choir seats no one would notice my knee-length pants. (I had ridden to Church on my motorcycle.)
We ran short of deacons for passing the sacrament.
Why is inappropriate clothing so embarrassing?
About the little girl and “Bishop, save me!!” Can this be a common occurrence? I was present when almost the exact same thing happened only to a mother and her little boy about 37 years ago. Millions of kids and infinite time….
In a testimony meeting I attended between 2000 and 2003, a ward member announced in his testimony that he knew Elvis Presley and Elton John (that’s right, folks) had accepted the gospel in the afterlife.
A sister married to a significantly older husband got up in Relief Society testimony meeting and expressed her gratitude for her prayers being answered. Her husband was in ill health and she prayed that they could have sex “just one more time”. She let all the sisters in Relief Society know that her prayers were answered!
This happened just before I moved into the ward. Several people have told me about this most interesting testimony.
Once on my mission in the Caribbean we had a testimony meeting just after some youth had returned from a temple trip to Orland. Teen after teen got up to share their testimonies about what a powerful spiritual experience the temple had been for them. All the parents were beaming.
Then one of the adult leaders, an older and kind of cranky woman who had been an endowed member for many years, stood at the podium. She said that the temple was nice, but the most powerful experience for her had been Disney World. “It’s such a magical place. I FELT LIKE A KID AGAIN!!!!” she wailed, and burst into sobs.
On my mission in Hong Kong, we got a single mother and her daughter to church one Sunday. They hadn’t heard any discussions yet but had been street contacted and showed up a little late to church. We sat them with a family and sat near the back, watching for more late investigators to show up.
After the first youth speaker concluded speaking, this mother and her daughter stood up and started clapping! Apparently they liked what they heard. Later the sister missionaries told me this family had experienced this type of reaction to a talk in other Christian denominations they visited and so they assumed everyone would follow their lead in our church. No one did and I don’t believe they ever came back to our church.
The following was printed (verbatim) in our ward bulletin two couple weeks ago (ward names have been removed to protect the embarrassed):
* * *
Attention all members who use the library:
ALL PENS have been “taken” from the library. Also borrowed and not returned are four gray/blue chalk bags, four black chalk bags, and three white board markers. The Library cannot function without this equipment. Librarians are not expected to continually buy these items from their own resources for careless users to always have them at their disposal. If you have any of these items, please RETURN THEM IMMEDIATELY, today if at all possible. They are needed for classes both for the [ward 1] and for the [ward 2]. Consider — this behavior violates your baptism and Temple covenants!!!
HEREAFTER: No materials should leave the library without being signed out — that includes a single pen. They must be able to be tracked. That does not mean the librarians run down the halls trying to catch up with the borrower. Thank you for your compliance.
* * *
Jon
This is the correct thread.
The mother of all wacky stories threads is at Mormon Mommy Wars – “Adventures in Arizona” – http://www.mormonmommywars.com/?p=659
It spans over three years and has over 300 comments. Get ready to laugh so hard you cry.
My favorite sacrament meeting story involves a fire-breathing dragon, a transvestite, UFOs and anal probes, but it’s just so shocking, I don’t think the crowd at T&S could endure it with their testimonies unscathed, so I’ll spare you.
When my precocious and unusually articulate son was about two years old, he had a habit of saying things that were usually filled with much-too-much information for the situation. One Sunday (during the quietest portion of the Sacrament of course), my son was walking around on the bench of the second row where we always sat, and being a bit noisy and talkative (as he usually was). He turned to my husband and with animated arms and expressions – loudly announced: “Daddy, I have a BIIIIIIIIGGGG penis!!!” My very private husband was needless-to-say, mortified. The bishopric was fighting back tears of laughter along with at least 6 rows of members behind us!
Admins, please free my link from the spam filter – or just change the link in #77 to the correct one I provided and delete this comment.
Really, truly, not my day.
Another ‘save me Bishop’ story: my rowdy younger brother at about age 4 famously shouted while being removed from the chapel, “Help! Bishop! Help! Help!”
I think it makes sense that kids appeal to the highest authority present for mercy. It says a lot for their understanding of the role of Judge in Israel.
About 13 years go our neighbor’s boy, who was about 4 at the time, apparently need to go to the restroom but couldn’t get his mother to do anything about it. I guess he finally convinced her there was a problem. As she was walking him out of the chapel he yelled, “I’m poopin’, I’m poopin!”
I reminded the family of this recently and they pretended to not know what I was talking about.
I was singlehandedly responsible for my parents’ inactivity in the Church for the first eight years of my life when they decided to attend Sacrament Meeting on a rare occasion during my infancy and, when I was done with my bottle, I promptly flung it three or four pews up …
I don’t actually “remember” the story I told in #83, of course, but it (sans the “singlehandedly-responsible-for-inactivity” part) has been recounted in our family … many times … many, many times.
Maybe we should start a Mormonsnopes.com site, to separate Mormon Urban Legends from true accounts?
Last year a sister in our ward was called the be the “ward cleanliness specialist.” When everyone started chuckling, the bishop smiled and clarified that he meant the ward building cleanliness specialist.
I have a question: If there is always a presiding priesthood member at these meetings… do they ever do anything about such stuff? Stop some of the oddities? Redirect?
I’ve only seen it once, on my mission. An Elder, who seemed to lack a filter (no expert, but it seemed severe), also had a crush on a sister missionary. One day he was speaking in a mission conference, asked said sister to stand, then started going on and on about how she was the true model for a goddess. Our president leaned over to one of the APs, who stood up and whispered to the elder and he ended his painful ‘talk’ with no more reference to our dear friend.
Recently an apostle visited our stake, and during the adult session of stake conference, tried to scare us into repenting and said, “I hope none of you sleep well tonight.” The woman who gave the closing prayer said, “Dear Heavenly Father, please bless us all to sleep well tonight.” About 2% of the congregation choked in laughter. Later that evening, I had the chance to shake the apostle’s hand, (but didn’t), and instead went straight up to the woman and thanked her for the prayer. The talks were much better the next day.
@Psychochemiker (89), was that really one of the Quorum of the Twelve and not some other (lower) General Authority? I would think the apostles are usually more careful in what they say, since they know many people take every word literally. Or, your stake really needs to repent. ;)
Either way, it simply reinforces my assertion that individual authorities speak their opinion, no matter how high their calling, no matter how official the setting. And only the *collective, unanimous* statements of the *unified* highest governing bodies (i.e., the entire First Presidency and the entire Quorum of the Twelve speaking as one) are to be taken as official Church doctrine.
I really don’t remember his point very well right now, his tone turned me off, but he was trying to shake things up, and was far too forceful. If I allow myself the ability to extract what he meant to say, they were good things to say, but his method was somewhat off-putting.
He was certainly an apostle, but I choose not to name him here because I recognize his individuality. He admitted that he wasn’t given a specific topic by the first presidency. I was just amazed by the woman. Too many allow others to bully them, and I thought it was amazing to see someone stand up to bullying like that. Thank you for the reminder, Jon.
Reminds me of J. Golden Kimball of the Seventy: Once, when attempting to exhort a congregation to better keep the commandments, J. Golden waved a sheaf of papers at them. “You may have noticed, brothers and sisters, that I keep waving these papers. Well, this is the Lord’s s–t list, and all your names are on it.”
Here’s another (still-active) thread with nearly 1200 posts stretching back to 2005:
“Curiously inappropriate things seen at Church” http://board.jeffjsnider.com/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=3230
A few months ago a young married couple in our ward were kissing and nibbling on each others’ ears during Gospel Doctrine. They were sitting on the back row, so most people wouldn’t have noticed except for the husband’s frequent moaning.
When serving as a missionary in Nairobi Kenya in 2001, I had a visitor get up during Fast and Testimony to bear his testimony. This is always kinda scary because you have no clue what he will say. This person began: “Good Morning congregation!” No reply. “I said good morning!” Small to no reply. He then turns to the Branch President and says “I think you better start serving bread and coffee instead of bread and water – these people are asleep!” He then bore a brief testimony on how coffee helps him feel the spirit and be alive for Church and sat down. I finished my mission a week later, so don’t know if he ever got taught.
2 true accounts witnessed by me: a child being taken out by her father, screaming ” don’t beat me; don’t beat me”.
2nd – visiting my daughter’s ward on Easter Sunday 6-7 years ago, an older gentleman in the ward, who was NOT the gospel doctrine teacher, took it upon himself to enhance the lesson. As we walked into the chapel for Sunday School (Sacrament mtg was last) – there was an entire line of huge posters taped across the front of the area for the choir seats and the bishopric seats.
Each poster was a depiction of Christ’s suffering with red poster paint dripping huge drops of “blood” from different body parts- so graphic and so offensive.
I felt like I was seeing scenes from the “Texas Chain Saw Massacre” – which I’ve never seen, but it can’t be much different than those posters.
No one made him take them down.
“It was my sternum.”
Hahahaha! Amazing.
One of my more awkward moments was during a fast and testimony meeting.
A woman got up, already visible weepy, and said something about how much Joseph Smith meant to her. She then proceeded to sing every single verse of “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief.” At the podium. While weeping. When she forgot some words, she would just hum through that line. Oh, and she was completely tone deaf.
Most of the congregation was just staring fixedly forward, smiles plastered on their faces, trying desperately to ignore the children who were asking “What’s wrong with that lady?”
Seven verses. Heaven help us.
Nat, I have a similar story. A dear older woman in our ward fancied herself a singer, she was about as far from that as is possible. One testimony meeting she announced that she was going to sing her testimony and proceeded to sing all 13 verses of the articles of faith primary song. She also couldn’t remember many of them and ad libbed profusely.
While I served as Branch Missionary in a Spanish Speaking branch, my companion and myself were sitting with an investigator and her son in Sacrament Meeting. After they passed the water and bread her little boy turned to his mother and said very loudly ” Mom, next they are bringing out the chicken” It was hard to keep a straight face during the rest of the meeting. We also had the same experience during Testimony Meeting of a new member getting up between testimonies and giving the closing prayer, leaving the Branch President astonished with about 20 more minutes left of Sacrament, of course everyone got up and went to their classes.
after
We had a ward conference in 1998 when the (longwinded) Stake President asked the Aaronic Priesthood to come stand behind him in age order. About 25 minutes later, one of the deacons on the other end of the row (I was the most senior Priest) fainted. The Stake President stopped mid-sentence, looked over at where the kid was on the ground, and turned back to the microphone and said “I guess that is a sign that my time is up. Can Brothers F and A come up (two MDs who were already one their way)? He then sat down. No “in the name of…” or anything.
****
A legendary moment in my single’s ward was when a brother was speaking about virtue and staying away from temptation. He was telling the story of David who ran away from temptation. He said “David didn’t just run; he ran like H**L!” He stopped started to blush, and the giggling from the congregation turned into laughter. As the laughing died down, the (normally seriously stoic) Bishop stood up, put his arm around the speaker, leaned into the microphone and said “Well, that is how he ran.” Best. Talk. Ever.
“That is how he ran” is still a running joke with my friends and I.
A few months ago this question came up on a Scout outing: Jesus was a carpenter so sometimes he must have hit hit thumb with the hammer; what would he have said? After a discussion the general consensus among the YM was that he probably said, “Oh, me!”
I thought David’s problem was that he DID NOT run away from temptation. You probably meant Joseph.
Yeah, I meant Joseph. The brother who was speaking was David….
No, Kylie, the bishopric was not at ALL surprised at Sister Less-than-Active’s salty language. It was my ward. We all (or most of us) know her, and the bishop knows her. The bishop PREFACED the talks with his avowed testimony that when he prayed to know who should speak on genealogy and temple work, the answer from the Lord was Sister (and Brother) Less-than-Active. He knew EXACTLY what would happen when she spoke (and she began by saying “This really sucks, you guys.” And went on to include such other squirmers as “Those of you that know me know I hate being here and I don’t like church and I’d rather be home with a drink and a cigarette, but the church is true, dammit, and I know I have to get my crap together but I just really don’t want to.”) When Brother Extremely Holy waited passive-aggressively till priesthood meeting to chastise her in her absence, the Bishop stood by his celestial witness and even explained some stuff about humor being the unexpected, and the laughter and good will from the ward was healthy. Bishop is a good man. Oh, and the point of her talk was that, smoking all the way, she now had over 2500 names ready for the temple, and she’s not worthy, so could you guys help out when you all go to the temple? Our ward temple project is to hook her up with some sealings. Literally.
Three meetings come to mind. In the first, the high council speaker began his talk with a joke about a prayer being answered when Hillary Clinton was thrown from an airplane. Our bishop was a Democrat. We never heard from that guy again. The second was when a sister in the ward admonished us all to vote “with a conservative spirit” in the next elections. Third, I’ll never forget the meeting when the sacrament tray was passed and it was full of raisin bread. I can’t get raisins down my throat, so I had to carefully pick through to find a raisinless piece.
Was at a wedding just this past saturday. They were taking pictures there in the church. The couple was beaming. So happy was the bride in fact, that standing in front of those 5-6 cameras, she says, “Well, I feel just like a prized pig!” Couldn’t stop from laughing. Wife leaned over and told me I had to add it to this post!
When I was a kid the Relief Society was asked to furnish home-baked bread for the Sacrament. We had some great fresh bread for several months until one sister made a loaf of onion bread for us. It was still warm and when we priests broke the bread the scent of onions got on our fingers and hands and the smell permeated throughout the chapel. Thst was the end of that idea.
Well one time my husband was playing a special musical number in Sacrament meeting in a ward we were visiting. When it was over, from the far back of the chapel, our 2-year-old son yelled “Good job Dad!”