Originally published at Thus Sayeth the Lord…. You can comment here or there.

It was beginning to drizzle a little bit as the troupe and I pulled up to the Hill Cumorah. We saw the men, and a few women, standing out in the wet grass at the side of the road, waving signs, and holding bullhorns before we approached– most of them were dressed in bright yellow shirts with the name of a website printed on them. It was hard to miss them.

It was easy to miss the turn off into the Hill Cumorah pageant parking lot, though. And of course, I missed it. We drove back, past the men in the yellow shirts (I couldn’t help but think of King’s low men from Hearts in Atlantis– really, I try not to be biased, but can’t help it…), and turned into the parking lot.

As happens every year in Palmyra, New York, anti-Mormon protesters show up to decry the hordes of Mormons gathering to watch the Hill Cumorah pageant. This year was no different. We hauled the kids out of the van under the watch of the bullhorners in their yellow shirts and damp hair. As we walked onto the pageant grounds, a sign on a light pole admonished us to “Be courteous of those who may try to disrupt the spirit of the pageant.” Once on the walking path that lead up to the seating grounds, the bullhorner’s voice faded, to be replaced by hymns being piped over a loudspeaker.

About a half hour (and one wiggly, fussy, 2 year old boy later), I walked back out to the van to fetch a bottle and some rice milk. The protesters were still shouting– a bit more stridently, and in larger numbers. The invective ranged from the uselessness of the Mormon priesthood, to the natural affinity of Mormon leaders for lying, to the warped sexual practices of all Mormon men, to the evils of Mormon temples, to the love that Mormons have for Satan. Again, as I walked back, their voices faded and were replaced by hymns.

And more than hymns. I had a thought as I stepped from the parking lot into the pageant– that out there, on the side of that road…that was Hell. And here, all around me, was Heaven.

I’m not judging those folks out there on that road, mind you. I’ve got no idea of their Story– how they came to be standing out there, in the drizzle, holding signs and shouting down at men, women, and children making their way into a religious festival.

And I’m not saying that Mormons will go to Heaven, either.

It’s about the attitudes being expressed on the side of that road, and in that field of green grass. Not about the actual people or their religious affiliations.

On the side of the road were angry men and women, screaming out rage and hurt and lies. On the side of the road, were people who cared so little for civility, they’d stand out in the rain for hours, tearing down other people’s beliefs.

In the field, there were children, teenagers, adults, fussing at one another, laughing, complaining…getting along. There was food, which one could buy to support local (non-Mormon) charities. There was singing. There was friendship. A lady mentioned that her and her friend had forgotten to bring raincoats– someone said they didn’t have any more raincoats, but he had some garbage bags he could give them to use as improvised ponchos. I went to sit down with the troupe, reflecting on this as I fed Inkling his bottle of rice milk– someone pushed an umbrella in my hand and walked off.

The rain fell on everyone– the protesters and the audience.

This isn’t a post about Mormons or Anti-Mormons, though it may seem like it at first. I live in the DC area; I’ve seen enough anti-rallies in my life to be able to spot a few similarities between them. Deeper than that, I’ve know
n people who BELONG to the anti-whatever genre. People who base some portion of their self on their level of dedication to tearing down something else. It affects the religious and the secular equally; it is, in fact, making living in this country a great deal more difficult. Witness the two dominant political parties going at each other like slavering wolverines.

This is the age of the antigogue. Hail to the man who effectively tears down his enemies, and forget reason, logic, truth, or fact. It doesn’t afflict just our leaders, though we’d like to think so– we are all ready to believe the worst about those who oppose our points of view. More than believe– we are ready to spread our antigoguery to those around us.

The religious tell lies about the athiestic; the scientists don’t consider believers capable of rigorous scientific thought. The humanitarian secularist; the spiritualistic philosopher; they are creatures of myth now, driven underground by the antigogues. Our language grows sloppy, our terms broad, as we gather more and more Undesirables into the camps of “other,” “condemned,” “stupid,” “evil.”

Hell is filled with antigogues of all beliefs, all persuasions, all creeds.

Heaven, I think, is filled with people who are civil, even when they disagree, and who lend umbrellas to complete strangers.