Saturday, May 19, 2012

A Young Boy Learns About Religion

How Early Can U Get An Abortion - A Young Boy Learns About Religion
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When I was twelve and baptized in the Church of Christ at 23rd and Grace, I notion I had learned the answers to life. "Who am I?" "What am I doing here?" "Is there life after death?" "Is there a God?" I knew there was Hell where you spent eternity burning if you were bad, Heaven where you went if you were good, and the Bible which told you the things that you could do and the things that you couldn't do (sins). all was black and white.

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How is A Young Boy Learns About Religion

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Sometime between the ages of ten and thirteen, I began to be aware of the time to come and examine what life held for me as I get older. Until that time, death was a vague "going away" to some unknown place; no one ever told me that the person wasn't arrival back or that I would never see them again. I realized that dying meant leaving this life, my house and friends forever, but I didn't know what happened then.

My house had started going to church normally when we moved to 23rd. My grandmother, Nanny, had all the time been a church-goer, but, at our house, Sundays were pretty much like any other day. When we moved in 1951, all changed. It seemed like we went to Church every time the doors opened. I would go to Sunday School from 9:00 to 10:30 and regular church from 10:30 to 12:00 or 12:30. That evening, I'd attend a Young People's meeting at 6:30 and a second church assistance from 7:30 to 9:00 or 9:30. We went to Prayer Meeting on Wednesday night from 7:30 to 9:00. At least once a month, we'd go somewhere for a Singing Meeting with population from other congregations. From time to time, we'd go to a deliberate upon on a Friday night where preachers would argue either the Bible required Christians to take communion from "one cup" or separate small cups or some other controversy.

The preachers in my early years had "heard the call" and either quit their jobs or began preaching part-time.. For the most part, they were self-taught. They would spend hours reading the Bible and believed the riposte to all problems could be solved if population would just supervene the rules found in that great book. Most of their sermons centered around the fate that awaited those who sinned and the phenomenal rewards that were to be given to the faithful. I truly believed that the streets of heaven were paved with gold and that life in the time to come was a forever of magic wishes - all that I wanted would be given to me if I would accept the teachings of Jesus as interpreted by our Preacher, Sam M________.

The decision to be baptized and join God's fraternity was pretty easy to make. I had a pretty good idea of punishment, since Mom and Dad were pretty liberal with their spankings. I had also been burned accidentally a few times and I knew it hurt, a lot worse than a spanking, and the pain lasted so much longer.

At twelve, I didn't worry or know much about subjects like racism, capitalism, birth operate or abortion, war, capital punishment, or any of the difficulties one would face as he grows older and is confronted with complicated issues. I believed that population who weren't members of the Church of Christ were going to hell, that using musical instruments in the church assistance was heresy, and that the only baptism that counted was being immersed completely under water. Catholics were bad because they listened to a foreign Pope rather than Jesus, Jews were responsible for the crucifixion, and dancing was tantamount to having sex.

All I had to worry about was lying, stealing, cussing, and dancing. I recognized there was a distinction between diminutive "white" lies and big ones and that some cuss words were best than others since they didn't carry the same prohibition. Almost all of the men I knew said "Damn" and "Hell" and Mom, when she was mad, could melt the paint off the walls. I was too young to date so dancing wasn't a problem. All in all, the choice to be baptized boiled down to burning in hell for eternity or giving up a few things now for a great time forever. Even a twelve year understands those alternatives.

When the time came for the Invitation (the part of the assistance where the preacher would exhort the sinners to come send and be saved), I was primed and ready to go. I marched out of the pew where I had been sitting with my proud parents and joined a join of other population at the front of the church. The congregation prolonged to sing and clap while the priest shook each of us by the hand and whispered "Welcome" in our ear. Two of us were to be baptized, Johnny R____ and me, while an older man wanted to confess his sins to the congregation and be forgiven (I didn't get to hear his confession because Johnny and I were taken to a room behind the Baptismal tank where we could convert clothes.).

We took off our clothes and put on a white set of coveralls. Johnny went first and I followed. The Baptismal tank was about six feet long, two foot wide, and filled with water about four foot high. The side facing the congregation was glass and covered by red drapes during the church service. When a baptism was to occur, the drapes would be pulled back. I waded down the steps to stand in front of the preacher. He put one hand in the small of my back and one hand on my forehead and leaned me back until I was completely under water while he proclaimed that the water "washed away my sins". I was saved. I guess if the world had ended right then, I would have been in pretty good shape.

I found out over the next some years that things weren't quite as straightforward or right send as I had notion that Sunday morning. Lying was a lot easier because the consequences of getting caught were much worse for a teenager. I found out that stretching the truth, making up a cheap explanation, or blaming person else might supervene in diminutive or no punishment for me.

All of my friends cussed, though not around their parents or other adults. I learned that I could think cuss words or even say things under my breath, and no one was the wiser except me and God, and I only used those words that were okay with him. (The first time I said "damn", I foreseen, to be struck down by a bolt of lightening, but nothing happened. I figured that God didn't care about cuss words except for "God Damn" since that was taking his name in vain.)

Except for a bout of shoplifting when I was thirteen, I was never tempted to steal. Even when I did shoplift, it was never about getting the merchandise as much as proving to my friends that I was cool. Besides, after I got caught, I was sorry and ashamed and I had been forgiven by the shop owner and my dad. I'm pretty sure that God forgave me the same time my dad did.

When I started junior high school, I discovered that the things I had been taught in Sunday School were not nearly as black and white as I had been led to believe; in fact, some things just seemed wrong. A lot of my friends went to other churches and it didn't seem right that they were going hell just because they were Methodist or Baptist. Other than the church they attended, they were just like me. Drinking was supposed to be a sin, but I'd seen the adults at parties where they drank beer and whiskey. They went to church on Sunday, but they never went to the front of the congregation and confessed. I couldn't realize how God made all in seven days along with population when the science books I read talked about man evolving from monkeys and the earth being millions of years old. The Bible didn't say anyone about dinosaurs. Why didn't the history books have anyone about the escape of the Israelites from Egypt? If the only population that God cared about were the Jews from the Old Testament or the Christians in the New, why were the other population put on earth? Throwing all of the Chinese and the Africans into Hell seemed both wasteful and unfair.

I learned that there were all types of dancing and it didn't mean the participants were having sex. How can you have evil thoughts when you're quadrate dancing to the Turkey in the Straw? My mother worked for a time as a secretary of a dance studio where they taught ballet and tap. Were those population going to hell? I loved Elvis Presley, the throb of the bass and the twang of an electric guitar in rock and roll. I liked the way it made me feel - revved up and excited. I didn't know much about sex; I just liked the beat. Why did my church condemn dancing and others did not? How could they be so sure they were right and others wrong?

I decided that the Bible was easily a tool of the Kings and Queens used to keep population in line without resorting to force. If you can convince person that their circumstances in life are to be borne without complaint in order to get a rich bonus in the after life, you can do anyone to them and they'll take it. Justice and Right are something that will happen when you're dead and in heaven. What's fifty or sixty years of misery compared to an eternity of happiness? The more I read, the more convinced I became that population could and did use the Bible and religion to elaborate any act, no matter how harmful, painful, or slow-witted it may be.

Christian Crusaders killed the Arabs to safe the Holy Places in Jerusalem, Spanish Catholics tortured their countrymen during the Inquisition, and the Pilgrims drowned witches to safe themselves from the devil. It's just as bad with other religions - Hindus believe in the caste system, all religions have approved slavery at one time or another, and men are killed in war by other men, each equally sure that they are doing God's will.

By the time I graduated from high school, I had determined that religion as defined by the Church of Christ was not for me. I wasn't sure how I felt about God and the other big questions, but I knew that I couldn't base my life on ideas and beliefs that I couldn't logically prove. If Heaven and God's population was anyone like the church at 23rd and Grace, I knew it was not what I was seeing for and that I would never fit in.

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