This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2015, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
I first learned about the "opposed" business during last Saturday's General Conference when a friend called to ask if it was me who did it.
Since I was in the middle of a nap when he called, I groggily admitted that it was. In truth, I had no idea what was going on, but over the years, I've found that default confessing like this saves everyone a lot of time.
Me: "So what did I do?"
Him: "Voted against sustaining the Brethren. We heard you but can't see you. Where are you?"
I wasn't at conference, nor was I watching it on TV. I was recovering from an apocalyptic Easter egg hunt that almost destroyed our backyard.
But when I heard what happened, I made sure to catch the news. There was no way I was going to miss this slight departure from the norm. It certainly wouldn't be included in the printed conference reports.
It was boring. Fewer than a dozen people stood up and shouted "Opposed!" when a vote was called to sustain church leaders. I got woke up from a nap for that?
I was deeply disappointed. Not by the yellers, but by my church. Nobody got dragged out of conference by their feet. Nobody punched anybody. Church security didn't even Taser anyone.
Know what did happen? Nothing. The shouters sat back down. Given that 21,000 people who voted the other way spent the rest of conference glaring at the backs of their heads, it's a wonder none of them spontaneously combusted.
The opposing vote didn't even slow things down. At the pulplit, Second Counselor in the First Presidency Dieter F. Uchtdorf took it smoothly in stride.
Them: "Opposed!"
Him: "Gesundheit."
After the session, three of the opposing voters held a news conference to explain their actions. It was the usual stuff — the church is mean, the church is wrong, the church is big, the church is responsible for global warming, etc.
I can't fault anyone for voting their conscience. Neither does the church. Why bother calling for an opposing vote if it did?
Still, there are lots of ways to express dissatisfaction at the way things are going in an organization. Some people stick around and try to fix things. Some people leave quietly. Some grandstand and then leave. Some stand up, outnumbered 3,000 to 1 in the middle of fellow Mormons, and yell.
When it comes to church, my personal favorite is to just do whatever the hell I want and then — here's the important part — take my lumps without whining about it.
Toward that end, I have a lot of respect for the sort of people who can do all of that while following a crazy guy they believe is a "living prophet" of God.
In 1938, that living prophet was elderly George Otis. He and three of his devoted followers showed up on Temple Square and tried to set the Tabernacle on fire with a gasoline sprayer.
Otis believed the fire was needed in order to keep the 3,000 people inside the Tabernacle at bay while he alerted them to the fact that Mormon leaders had led the church astray.
It didn't work. Otis and his brethren (armed with clubs) managed to set part of the Tabernacle and a church maintenance worker on fire, after which the crap was punched out of them by assorted bystanders and cops. Otis spent the rest of his life locked up at the State Hospital.
Hardly anybody remembers George Otis today. Whatever message he was trying to get across sort of got lost in the show. Maybe he should've just stood up at General Conference, and yelled.
Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley. Find his past columns at http://www.sltrib.com/lifestyle/kirby