“You don’t have to say everything to be a light. Sometimes a fire built on a hill will bring interested people to your campfire.” ― Shannon L. Alder

It was a cool evening tonight. Rare in Houston. The sun was sneaking under the distant covers and leaving a beautiful trail of orange and pink. I had jumped up, put on a hat and grabbed my walking stick. Don’t miss a perfect time to move, count some steps, clear the cobwebs, say some prayers – there are so many to be spoken these days.

Just over the levee across the street, I saw them approaching a house. It seemed like no one was home. My walk had just started, but as I got nearer, I began to hope I’d get to have a conversation with these neighborhood visitors. Just like that, before I could think about a plan, the leader of the trio spotted me (it was dusk) and marched right over and started the “pitch.”

Before he could really get going I hollered out to them “how’s the mission going tonight?” They were a little taken aback. I told them, in those classic Mormon “uniforms” anyone could spot them a mile away. I introduced myself as someone who studies religion – like theirs – professionally as a sociologist. That’s my specialty. I also worked in my Southern Baptist background with a little history. Remember, even Mormon missionaries aren’t immune from my talking too much these days.

They weren’t riding bikes, it’s now too dangerous, I was told. Houston has become so diverse; these young high school graduates were learning Mandarin. Back at their church (here in Sugar Land) English language classes were being offered to new immigrants. They seemed just as enthusiastic as any young Mormons I’ve met over the past 40 years.

I think we mostly talked about BYU and the Big 12, their own college plans after the two-year mission is complete, and the overtime Baylor loss to BYU up in Provo in 2022. I was invited to church with them – hard to do when I’m teaching a class at my own church. I told them that in the past I had missionaries come to my church and visa versa. I shared that I was moving soon, they offered to help, giving me a card with a phone number (written in Chinese).

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints would prefer that you call their members “saints” but have recently stopped resisting the norm that Christian society has developed over the past two hundred years – calling them “Mormons.” Do you remember, we came close in 2012 to having our first Mormon president?

Have you noticed that the Jehovah’s Witnesses have stopped knocking on doors Saturday mornings? Instead, a new strategy is to send handwritten letters in the mail. For me, it’s very interesting to talk to people who knock on my door about their religious indoctrination and to observe their tactics. I told the missionaries tonight that almost everyone, even those in religiously free America, don’t pick their own faith but generally share the same beliefs in which they’ve been raised.

“Religious liberty might be supposed to mean that everybody is free to discuss religion. In practice it means that hardly anybody is allowed to mention it.” ― G.K. Chesterton

Anyway, these young men probably didn’t get the training to deal with a character like me tonight. A little old man in his shorts out for a walk. Someone who probably knew more about their religion than they did. Someone who talked too much. Someone not in a hurry to get away. Someone who was not defensive at all, eager to listen and curious about their own individual futures. Someone who promised to pray for them as he departed – who probably should have stopped them right there on that driveway and prayed for all of us.

“Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.” ― Victor Hugo