THING: GOING TO CHURCH

I think I am correct, but it is my understanding when interviewing for employment the employer cannot ask your religious preference. Since my interviewing days are well behind me, I can declare I was raised as a Baptist. One of my mom’s favorite sayings ” Once a Baptist always a Baptist”. My mom being a staunch believer, there was no room for discussion in this matter. God forbid you interrupted her when discussing religion with a “but, but”. Her soft brown eyes became lasers. My dad had the maturity to excuse himself to the front porch to enjoy a chew of Red Man tobacco without being forced into an amen from the brown laser eyes.

If it was Sunday and unless you were comatose, it was Sunday School and preaching. My mother taught a Sunday School class so my two sisters and I could feel her presence even though she was two doors down. Unlike Las Vegas “what happened in the Sunday School class did not stay in the Sunday School class”. Our Sunday School teacher had what was referred to as a “sentence prayer”. She would call on a random person to begin the prayer and then proceed around the room, each child giving a short prayer. When it came my turn I was in “lala” land and simply said amen. The class erupted in laughter. My teacher, being the God fearing person she was threw me under the bus quicker than a drug addict helping you look for the wallet he just stole. Some advise to young Baptist children. If your mother has laser eyes regarding religion, do not make the same mistake I made on numerous occasions. Quote, ” mom can you just spank me and not preach at the same time”? All you are doing is doubling down on the spanking and the Bible verses ” spare the rod and spoil the child”. I think my mom had her Bible bookmarked on that scripture for easy referencing.

I do have a vivid memory of one such event that even to this day I cannot help but laugh. It was the ritual of baptizing into the Baptist Church. In the Baptist Church you are submerged in the baptismal pool located directly behind the pulpit. Peepsie was the lady to be baptized. Her name was indicative of her body type, tall and willowy. I was in my most reverent mood as Peepsie entered the pool being aided by the pastor. As she entered the pool her pleated frock rose to the top like a parachute opening. As she attempted to gain her composure with the frock, the pastor lost his balance and both went under the water. The next body part to appear was Peepsie’s two bare feet sticking straight up in the air. My sister made reference to the Thanksgiving turkey. As sacred as this ritual is, even God had a slight smile on His face. Yes, I lost it and of course paid the piper later.

I have many fond memories of my Baptist upbringing. One was my mother’s faith in her maker. Secondly, my sisters and I knew better than to let our behavior become the talk of the church. On my part, that was difficult at times. My explanation of ” the devil made me do it” soon ran its course. Let me be clear, by no means am I being blasphemous toward any religion or doctrine. For me a person’s belief is personal. If they want to share it, that is their prerogative. I do believe God has a sense of humor, otherwise Christmas lights would never get tangled and husbands would be right some of the time.