Looking back at my childhood experiences with religion it is a wonder I’m not either the founder of a super cult or a hard core atheist. Between the things that happened at home and the world around me if I hadn’t had good experiences with Christianity, I might be tucked away in a cave muttering over the psychological damage.
Sure, many faiths are perfectly harmless on their own with good core values very similar to each other. However, I must have been at the nexus of things gone horribly odd because there were times even the great prophets couldn’t have found a way to apply the lessons to daily life. The Spanish Inquisition would have not been able to find a torture to root this stuff out.
I mind as well get the inevitable angry looks and the “well I nevers” out of the way now so I’ll start with my darling mother. Every now and again you can find someone to say her efforts to keep me out of trouble weren’t in vain, but when it came to using the messiah outside of the house of the almighty, she had some particularly creative methods.
My favorite and most confusing of all of these forays into the secular world involved her yelling without volume control the phrase “Pull out and meet Jesus” each time someone cut her off in traffic. These days I realize it’s a funny expression that avoids using curse words toward road hogs, but as a child I wondered if the lord of lords really was going to start preaching right in the middle of Indiana Avenue. Then again, as often as she used that phrase he might as well have been ready to return to earth riding shotgun to the grocery store.