There was recently a fun thread on Twitter asking for people to share the “shocking” stories from the various LDS wards they had been in. Some of these stories were funny, some were salacious and others were horrifying. These are all the types of stories that people who were there at the time would share when they meet up with others who were there. It’s the stuff of community, even if it isn’t good, maybe especially if it’s bad. There were many, many examples of affairs, but this one takes the cake:
There were quite a few stories about Fast & Testimony fails:
There were a few crimes shared:
This one was pretty heartwarming, although the instigation of the story reminds me of the time my daughter’s phone went off with “Apple Bottom Jeans” right during the sacrament, and she chucked it at me like it was on fire.
There were also a few bizarre ones, including this Munchausen syndrome one:
Every time I have met up with ward friends from my youth, we have lots of these types of stories that we revisit. There was a ward potluck in which a woman had accidentally used boraxo soap instead of baking powder. I think her kids were playing a prank on her. My Primary teacher when I was 8 then left the church and got up in Fast & Testimony meeting with her husband to tell us all it was a big lie. My seminary teacher kept cigarettes and weed in his car and was having an affair with a younger woman. The Young Men were climbing around in the ceiling and fell through, breaking a bunch of ceiling tiles in a classroom which they just left there. A lot of the youth would skip out after sacrament meeting and meet up at a nearby pizza place.
As an adult, there was a couple in one of our wards who would hire the youth to babysit, then sneak back into their bedroom through the back door and take showers together. Their kids knew what they were doing, but the babysitters were often confused when the water would start running in another part of the house.
- So what are your ward war stories that you like to share with your friends?
- Are there any stories people tell about you?
Discuss.
Wheat & Tares 
So here’s the story. There was a beautiful young family in our ward. The father was the Elders Quorum president. Mom played the piano in the primary. They had 2 young children, a boy and a girl. They had a ballroom dancing business together.
They would ask the bishop’s teenage daughter to watch their kids while they taught dance classes.
Then they started to have marital difficulty. They tried to do better but the dad just wouldn’t believe it could work out and insisted on a no fault divorce. Two weeks after they divorced, the bishop’s daughter announced she and the Elders Quorum president were engaged to be married, and they did, within the month. By then she was over 18, but she had been watching their kids for years…
In the late ’80s, my dad drove all the way from NC to Provo to see a girl that he was dating. Her parents were excited to see him, but as soon as he opened the door, she was………with someone else. Believe it or not, that was not even the worst part of that trip.
Before he went back to NC, he attended a sacrament meeting at a student ward at BYU. Before the meeting started, the Bishop stumbled into the front of the chapel. My dad could immediately tell that he was drunk since he had extended family that were alcoholics, but bless their hearts, the members in that ward were oblivious. A few minutes later, a young woman went right to the Bishop and whispered in his ear. He drunkenly blurted out “what do you mean it’s mine?! Get an abortion!!”. My dad immediately got up, went straight to his motorcycle, and drove straight to NC without looking back.
A family in my ward used to push their TV up to the window that looked over the parking lot and left the football game playing each week. One week the whole elders quorum took a walk to check the score mid lesson.
Oh man, that fake cancer patient reminds me: when I was a Rexburg student in the late-2000s, this roguish young Irish student moved into my YSA ward. Big accent, big personality, very charming, everyone liked him immediately. Except he wasn’t Irish. Or a student. Or even a YSA.
Turns out he was a divorced dude in his 30s from Utah or Idaho (it’s been a hot minute, details are hazy now), and not even an enrolled BYUI student—all of which we learned after he was arrested for stealing a few hundred dollars cash from his roommates then speeding away towards the Montana border.
We all swiftly went from outraged at his brazen deception, to kinda ashamed that we all fell for (in retrospect) an obviously fake Irish accent, to finally pitying him once each new detail of his pathetic life came to light. Man, what a memory! I must’ve blocked it out of sheer embarrassment.
Our EQ president was speaking along with the 2nd counselor in the stake presidency in Sacrament Meeting. The EQ president always liked to joke and when he stood up he said the SP counselor was busy with his “Playboy” and that we would hear from him in a few minutes. I looked at my wife and said “did he really say that??” after which she got angry and said to get my mind out of the gutter. The EQ president delivered his talk and the SP counselor delivered his talk like nothing happened.
Later that day a very embarrassed EQ president emailed the ward and sincerely apologized. He meant to say “Gameboy” instead of “Playboy.”
Secondary, when I explained to my kids they didn’t care. I guess it was past the time when the Playboy brand meant anything.
When I was a young bishop. President Hinkley once said in jest, speaking about missionaries, “The FBI can’t find them. The CIA can’t find them. Interpol can’t find them, but the missionaries seem to be able to find them.” The missionaries found and baptized a man who seemed like a nice fellow, a bit odd, very plump, wore coke-bottle glasses, and was always there sitting in the back of the chapel and smiling. There was a news report that he was hit by a car. A ward member was a Dr. at the hospital, checked in on him, and gave me a report. It was bad. I went to the hospital to give him a blessing. He was conscious but in clear distress, with tubes and bandages everywhere. He could not speak. After the blessing, we visited with his parents in the waiting room. They were not aware that he was a member of the Church and were quite puzzled.
The next Sunday, I walked into the chapel, and there he was, just like always. I said, “Wow, you’ve had a remarkable recovery!” We soon realized the guy in the hospital was a different man with the same name, that lived in the same neighborhood, had the same build, and was so full of tubes and medical devices, he could not be recognized. I felt bad for the man and his parents who were so puzzled by our presence and comments at the hospital.
Several months later, I received a call from a former ward member who worked in the probation office. He had seen this newly baptized man in the office and recognized him from Church. He looked up his records and found a horrific history criminal past that sent him to prison for more than 20 years.
About 10-15 years ago a new product hit the market… Mike’s Hard Lemonade. (You can guess where this is going). I was the RS Home Family and Personal Enrichment leader. We were doing an “oh what do you do in the summertime” activity and asked the women to bring something summery to share. You know how every ward has a favorite sweet elderly woman? SHE brought this amazing new Lemonade that she has been getting and told everyone about this yummy Lemonade and how she and her grandkids just love it!
Oh gosh. *I* had to be the one to pull it off the table and bring her to the side and gently tell her she really shouldn’t give it to kids!
Worst one for me:
The second counselor in our bishopric had a large family with 6 kids. His wife worked to support the family. The high school aged daughter of the first counselor in the bishopric worked for the second counselor in his janitorial business. They began dating. The second counselor convinced the girl that his marriage was in trouble because his wife worked outside the home. However, the girl was his soul mate, so he would divorce his wife, marry the girl, and then she would stay at home to raise the family they would have together. He divorced, they married, she has worked throughout their marriage because he can’t support any of his families.
The girl had previously dated one of the counselor’s sons. The man actually thanked his son for teaching his new wife how to kiss.
Toad: Wow, that is a Tobias Funke award story for sure. Only a Mormon would accidentally call a Gameboy a Playboy in front of the congregation and not realize his mistake! It’s like those modesty posters that said “On your knees” showing girls kneeling to see if their skirts were long enough. People in the church aren’t all naive, but enough of them are that these things aren’t getting checked.
When I was 13 I witnessed the strangest and saddest testimony meeting ever. There was a Southern gentleman in our ward who’d been a Baptist preacher before he and his wife had joined the church. From what my parents told me he’d had a severe nervous breakdown right after he and his wife moved to our ward in Utah and had never been the same since. Every month he’d get up and ramble on about bizarre things during testimony meeting and the bishop would gently have to help him finish up and get safely off the stand where his wife was standing to help him back to his seat. Unless you were new to the ward or were a visitor you just knew that this was standard operating procedure and very harmless.
Well, in this particular meeting rather than ramble Brother C announced that the Lord had come to him in a vision the night before to tell him that he was to, right then and there, heal a young man in our ward who’d gotten sick right after birth and had lost his sight as a result. Suddenly the entire congregation came to attention. The young man was on the stand because he was a fabulous pianist and had done a beautiful duet with my mom on the organ for the prelude and they were going to do something for the postlude.
This former preacher went, quick as a flash, and placed his hands on the young man’s head and loudly started casting out Satan and the powers of darkness in order to heal the blind man. All of us were absolutely stunned. Suddenly the bishopric rose as one and tried to pull Bro C off of the poor blind man who was begging them to get Bro C away from him. It took the priests who were sitting at the sacrament table to help them finally get him out of the chapel and the church building. (They took poor Bro C to our local hospital which was only a mile away to be treated.) Everyone’s heart went out to poor Sister C who stood up and apologized to the ward and asked for our forgiveness for her husband’s bizarre actions by saying, “He’s not well. Please pray for him.” and then she left to go to the hospital.
Obviously, the meeting couldn’t go on after that, so our very cool bishop who’d stayed behind announced that he would say the closing prayer and church would be dismissed for the day. He prayed that we would show forth more love, understanding and kindness for everyone in our ward who had physical and mental health challenges. The amen at the end was the most heartfelt that I’d ever heard before.
Brian G, your football story brings back memories of my BYU ward. We had sacrament meeting last. After the sacrament was through our supercilious and self-righteous 1st counselor stood up and said, “Brothers and sisters, are you aware that the kickoff for the Super Bowl will take place in approximately 15 minutes. Hahaha!” About 3/4 of the ward members got up and walked out of church. No lie! The look on the counselor’s face was one of both disbelief and horror. He turned to look at our bishop who had covered his face, but you could tell that he was laughing so hard by the way his body was shaking. The counselor, who was slated to give another one of his dreary talks asked the bishop what he should do. Our bishop stood up, announced the closing hymn and bade us to go home and enjoy the rest of the day. I’m not a football fan, but I was certain grateful for the Super Bowl that Sunday.
Sadly, there was a DC area ward where one of the bishopric members wrote the torture memos. It became an international scandal. (A horrible moral depravity that gave both our country and the church a black eye.) I don’t know which is worse- an RM and LDS ward leader working by day in that capacity, or the.number of members who saw no fault in it. I believe his leadership calling continued in normal course without any interruptions.
A Poor Wayfaring Stranger,
I found your first story compassionate and moving. The second made me laugh.
Mortimer,
I would hate to be interviewed by the torture memo author for a temple recommend. My current leaders are bad enough without them believing that sleep deprivation and waterboarding were valid techniques.
My apologies for taking up so much space, but my cousin and his wife who were in my YSA ward reminded me of another memorable sacrament meeting. We had a brand new high councilor speak. Normally, “dry council” talks work like anesthesia on most church members, but this was definitely an exception.
The stake theme that year was Moses 1:39 which was all about bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of man. This HC introduced the topic but said “immorality and eternal life of man.” Okay, that was an interesting blooper, but it wasn’t. He kept on using the word “immorality” for “immortality”. Our bishop got up and must’ve whispered in his ear that he was using the wrong word for the subject because the HC angrily said out loud, “I will not! I know what I’m talking about here!” Of course, we in the congregation were greatly entertained with thoughts of what the “immorality and eternal life of man” might just look like! When he finally finished and sat down the closing hymn was announced to be “Should You Feel Inclined to Censure” at which point there were smothered giggles and a few guffaws to be heard. You can’t make stuff like this up! Unfortunately, Moses 1:39 is a scripture that I can’t even hear referenced now without laughing.😂
While on my mission (away from the Mormon belt), the ward mission leader (a convert of 4-5 years) got up and bore his testimony of the blessings he received from gambling. He explained that he needed to pay off credit card debt his small restaurant had accrued, prayed to God promising if he was blessed with winning at a nearby casino he would pay 20% tithing on the winnings. He continued that he had woke up early on a Friday, drove to the casino, won twice what he needed (several thousand dollars won at the craps table) and had given the 20% tithing payment to the bishop that morning before the meeting started. My companion and I almost fell out of the church pew we were sitting on, and bishop’s mouth dropped wide open. The counselor next to the bishop started to giggle. You could see the bishop check his jacket pocket for the envelope full of filthy lucre, mouth still wide open. The WML ended by again bearing testimony that if we listen to the promptings of the spirit and promise to pay our tithing on all sources of income we will be blessed. The ward was silent. After an uncomfortable pause, the bishop got up and went to the podium. He clarified that we are instructed by the church not to gamble, but that everyone makes mistakes as we learn the gospel and learn all of the church’s counsel. He then paused and said, “Brother X (the WML), what you didn’t wasn’t *that* wrong, but maybe we should talk for a few minutes after church.” The WML seemed to take it in stride. I wanted to ask the bishop if he kept the tithing or returned the money to the WML. My companion was from Las Vegas and had a great sense of humor. He wanted to give the member a high five.
There’s all these things the Mormon community believes in that aren’t taught in the lessons. Bet that brother never promised not to gamble before he was baptized
Mine’s horrific.
The year I left home to go to university a new family moved into my home ward, so I never really got to know them like the rest of my family. The new family seemed solid, and fit into the ward easily. The oldest daughter became good friends with my brother that was just younger than me.
The dad was eventually called as the new ward Bishop. He was warm, charismatic, and really great with children. It was common practice for kids to come up to the stand and sit on his lap during Sacrament Meeting.
Then several children accused him of molesting them while on the stand. The accusations split the ward. All the kids making allegations were from less “ideal” families, single moms or part-member. (I know this sounds awful, but that was the implied message behind many comments that disbelieved the allegations)
My own family disagreed on whether or not he was guilty, even years later. My youngest brother believed the accusers, one of my sisters said it was impossible because he’d carried the Spirit with him.
The case went to trial. His first councillor testified that he was innocent. “I sat right beside him, this was definitely not happening.” He was found guilty and sent to jail. Many ward members believed he was wrongly imprisoned.
Just a few years ago I learned that a good friend of mine was his niece. And that he had gotten out of jail a little bit before, with his own extended family still thinking he was innocent. Then some of his now-adult nieces came forward. Guy was guilty.
My friend was not one of the victims, but it left her questioning everything from her childhood. This was the “fun uncle,” that played with the kids at family gatherings instead of sitting and visiting with the adults.
His first counselor eventually served as the Stake President in that stake. I wonder if he ever learned the truth.
When I was a student in a YSA ward in Provo, a new guy showed up one Sunday. He was super extroverted and chatted everyone up. Probably everyone knew his name by the time we went home from meetings that day. I then heard maybe two weeks later that the bishop went into Relief Society and advised the women to decline requests for dates from him, with no further explanation given. Within a week after that, I read the guy’s name in the BYU newspaper crime report column, in which he had been arrested in connection with a peeping Tom incident. Suddenly everything became clear what was going on, even though I still don’t know what exactly was reported to that bishop.
Margot,
Your ward story is eerily similar to one that my sister experienced. I really hope it is the same one, because the thought of one ward with that problem is devastating, let alone more than one.
There’s so much to unwrap with “feeling the spirit”. We are not spiritual Geiger counters, of that I am certain. Our discernment about ourselves and others is sadly- deeply flawed.
We make so many assumptions about the spirit, why it touches us, what it does and doesn’t mean for the room and others around us, even speakers. Several factors come into play when feeling spiritual things and perceiving them in others. Spiritual feelings can be manipulated (I.e. when people tell stories that pull the heart-strings and cry- that’s not “the spirit”. It’s stirred emotions.) Also- when people come off of mountain-top like spiritual experiences (like missions or temple work, long conferences, camps, etc.), they often have a glow and continue to feel positively and can make bad decisions in confusing a false positive for a “yes”. (The brethren used to warn about not going on temple dates or praying together for this reason.) And then of course, there are manipulative people who know how to speak in conference voice or LDS leader voice and use that feeling and mood (combined with scripture or mentions of good things) to manipulate (e.g. Warren Jeffs).
One of my biggest pet peeves is people who say “the spirit was so strong in the room” or “so and so brought the spirit to the room so powerfully”. No. You felt the spirit for and inside you. If others support your witness, then that’s between those who co-witness. It doesn’t mean that those who don’t feel that witness are evil, “unworthy” or poor listeners. Could be a million other things, including the co-witnesses being off-kilter, or the unaffected one was just not needing to be bonked on the head about something that doesn’t apply to them or that they already get.
Mortimer,
I hate to say it, but it’s not likely that it’s the same ward. I didn’t grow up in the United States.
I attended a singles ward with my future brother-in-laws while my now-husband was on his mission. We are a jovial crew, already prone to sacrament meeting giggles; but it reached its height on the day a man visiting the ward got up and bore his testimony. He had noticed our organist was a man, and he proudly declared into the microphone that he was “thankful for the male organ, because you just don’t see too many of those!”
We absolutely lost it. The whole back row we were sitting in was shaking with our attempts to suppress the laughter. We couldn’t even stop when another woman got up on the stand and chastised us for making fun of a visitor. To be fair, he was kind of an odd guy– but that’s 100% not why we were laughing! I think most people in that ward were so naive they just didn’t get what he had said. Or maybe they were just better people than we are! Regardless, it’s still one of my favorite F&T stories, and an inside joke that will live forever.
Loved that, but I suspect there is also quite a bit of trauma being worked on. I always thought it was just my ward or stake doing this kind of stuff, so useful to know.
On a lighter note, dear husband when he was on Bishopric once announced that the priesthood would now ‘blast and pest the sacrament’. Still can’t help shaking with suppressed mirth whenever I recall it. ‘Return of the repressed’ I think.
We need to watch for our shadow is my take home message here.