This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2014, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

Wednesday morning I went straight to my computer and opened my email to see if I was one of the 10,000 Mormons sent a personal message from one of the top LDS Church leaders.

On Wednesday, the church began testing a program in which Mormons will receive these emails. No more waiting for General Conference. We can get up-to-the-minute advice from our leaders.

There were 106 emails in my inbox. Most were spam, but half a dozen were from readers explaining (with varying degrees of civility) why I was going to hell. Yeah, like I didn't already know that.

Three were from friends wanting help committing a few imaginative misdemeanors, and a bunch were from my editor demanding to know where I was.

There were emails from Nigeria needing my help to transfer millions of dollars to the U.S., two from clueless people who thought I could read Chinese, and another from someone deeply concerned about improving my "male stamina."

Only one of the emails appeared to be religious in nature, but it proved to be a Christian pastor claiming to have proof that President Obama is the anti-Christ.

More disturbing was the one from "Roxy Rocks." For just a few dollars a month I could e-romance a woman with Naugahyde skin and a couple of basketballs surgically inserted just below her collarbones.

None of the emails was from the First Presidency or even someone at LDS Church headquarters. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed.

If any Mormon needs the personal advice and stern direction of an LDS apostle or Seventy, it's probably me. Shoot, I'd even accept stern rebukes and the occasional threat if it kept me on the straight and narrow.

General Authority: "Look, forget about how we'll baptize silicon-based life forms in a weightless environment. Just study the scriptures."

Me: "OK, but proselytizing in outer space is way more interesting."

Even cooler would be to access this direction from a G.A. by texting. Suppose Bro. Lipper was going on again in Sunday school about caffeine being a gateway drug, I could contact my e-G.A. for the latest doctrine on the matter.

Bro. Lipper: "So, brothers and sisters, we shouldn't even watch cola drink TV commercials lest we—."

Me: "Yeah? Well, no 'lest' than President J. Wallace Smiter (not a real G.A.) just told me to tell you to shut up."

Granted, there are people who would abuse personal email connections with top church leaders. General Authorities have a church to run, so they're not going to care about your dog's birthday, what your celestial color is, or what can be done about that horrible man at The Tribune.

It's probably all too good to be completely true or even individually personal. My guess is that these G.A. emails will be written by an assistant, perused for accuracy by the leader, then spammed to 10,000 people. More if the trial goes well.

On the other hand, if next Sunday morning I get an email from jwallacesmiter@ldschurch.org exhorting me to drag my butt out of bed and get my nursery lesson prepared, I'll know that I guessed wrong.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.