Queen of Swords

When we arrived at my mother's cousin's house, we could hear someone praying loudly inside. Turned out it was the cousin's "prayer partners". Biblebuddies, I call them; rhymes with Teletubbies if you're tipsy. Anyway, one of the partners could have been the basis for a Nutwatch all by her lonesome. According to her, she had once won a scholarship to study in the States, and that was the mighty hand of god resting on her, because the family she was staying with converted her.

"But you must have been very smart to win that scholarship," my mother said.

"No, I was average, and I had no confidence. You see, the scholarship was God at work in my life."

So let me get this straight. God took the scholarship away from the more intelligent people who deserved it, and gave it to the average person who didn't? What, he had absolutely no way to get her to the States other than by cheating the rest of the applicants? So much for "with god, all things are possible." With god, all things are possible as long as someone else pays for them.

"Anyway," the partner continued, "the family was very nice to me; they bought me clothes and gave me pocket money." Yes, it might have been difficult to convert you to their religion if they hadn't greased your way first. "And then they took me to their youth group meetings, and I just broke down in tears." Of laughter, I hope. "You know, at the time, I didn't have any intellectual understanding of what had happened to me." Of course not. The more ignorant, the better. "I just knew that God loved me." Even though he didn't buy you clothes.

"And then you went back home?" my mother asked. "When the scholarship expired?"

"No, because if I had gone back home at that point, I would have lost my faith. My parents were Buddhists." If the Good News can't survive a Buddhist family, what the hell can it do? "But God saved me again, because my father decided that I should finish my studies in England." I see... your father is God. You must be Jesus in drag.

I sat in silence through the entire testimony, while my parents made various encouraging noises to the partner; shortly after that, an excellent lunch was served and the partners left. Now I kept wondering where the cousin's husband, the man of the house was, since he was the one who was supposed to debate me. It was only after lunch that my mother told me the man, apparently not having the stones to take me on, had planned that I should talk to their pastor instead.

"Just what is going on?" I said, starting to get pissed. "First you decide that there should be a discussion between me and him, without consulting me. Now he decides that there should be a discussion between me and someone else, without consulting me. Do I get any say in any of this, or am I a small kid who gets schlepped to church whether she likes it or not?"

My dad said that he wasn't keen on the methods either, but since the whole thing was a fait accompli, I should go along and let the pastor have his say. I went, still smoldering. I didn't like the fact that the meeting was taking place in another house, either; it smacked of an intervention. When they told me that the pastor was British, that didn't help much, since I imagined an ancient vicar who would mumble sonorously from his Latin translation of the Old King James version.

The other house turned out to be a youth center, filled from top to bottom with inspirational sayings like :

A hearty for that one.

But the surprise was the pastor, who was maybe my own age or perhaps even younger. Right away my mother couldn't play the "respect him because he's older than you" card, and then the pastor asked me what I wished to discuss - he was quite clueless about the meeting's purpose, poor guy. I said that I respected other people's rights to hold whatever beliefs they liked, even if I didn't agree with those beliefs, so why couldn't they do me the same courtesy? After all, I didn't invite them to my home so that I could convince them to be atheists. Why then did they feel they had the right to try to change the decision I had made regarding my life? Why, in other words, was it not possible for them to leave me alone?

He said, "I agree with you, and I'm not going to try to convert you."

"That's good to hear," I said to him. "You wouldn't believe how many people are just unwilling to let me be. They want me to conform, to fit their specifications, to make the same choice they did. I don't think that's fair, especially when you consider that I've already been a christian and know what it's about."

He agreed again, and said that if I wasn't seeking God, then I wasn't ready to find him. Religious references aside, that was the major point I wanted to make with the audience, who didn't say a word. I doubt there'll be more attempted conversions in the future, what with their own pastor taking my side on the matter.

Anyway, I brought up the topic of christian fundamentalism, and why it's something I cannot accept. The pastor, it turns out, is a fundy, "but struggling with some of the things in the bible." In other words, he's me nine years ago. I'm hardly likely to be converted by myself at eighteen. Plus, he had a unique approach to verses like, "Be ye therefore perfect, as your father in heaven is perfect." "Well," he said, "we've got to be realistic." Right, and Jesus's little spiel about committing adultery in your heart? We've got to be realistic about that too. Let's just be realistic about the whole book - then we'll all be atheists.

The debate, such as it was, didn't last very long, though I got to make the points I wanted - that the bible is not inerrant, that we don't need a god handing down morals from high, that I'm happier and more tolerant as an atheist than I ever was as a fundy, and so on. Then I gave him the address of this website, invited him to participate in the forums, mentioned the Weekly Nutwatch and assured him that he wasn't crazy enough to be entered in it, shook hands all around, and left.

Oh, and my mother said that she wouldn't sign me up for any more debates without my consent.

Good day, all around.

MortalWombat

So the original guy chickened out, his replacement had no desire to debate you, and your parents promised not to force you into any more debates? Must have been the mighy hand of God resting on you that day.

King Rat

I've found most pastors/priests/bishops are like this when confronted with firm atheism. They prey on the undecided and quail at the strong. In fact, many will admit that "the flock" tends to be overzealous and erroneously tend towards literalism.

wade-w

That's great, QoS! Sounds like it couldn't have worked out better for you.

Between that and the "Love me or I'll torture you" doctrine, this god looks more and more like a stalker.

Doctor X

Well, ever being an optimist. . . .

The original challenger is a coward and deserves no further attention.

The pastor was polite.

Lunch was good.

Seems things worked out well.

--J.D.

Biff the unclean

Good news! I've just started "Biff's Don't be a Dope" service where I meet with middle age Christian women and talk some sense to them without their consent. If you sign your mom up today there's a 20% discount

Queen of Swords

BTW, one other topic that came up was that I couldn't see any sense behind some of the things Jesus said, such as the one about desiring someone in your heart being the same as the actual deed. I said I saw nothing wrong with sexual fantasies that harmed no one.

The pastor asked me if I didn't think there was a limit to those. I said that I thought of them as cups of tea. I have three to four cups of tea a day. Now if I was having twenty, and I was constantly interrupting my writing in order to make tea, that might be a problem. And if I started stalking tea manufacturers to get more tea from them, that would definitely be a problem.

Since I was happy - and no one was being harmed - with my three to four cups of tea a day, what was the problem?

Doctor X

Fantasies about tea?

Now that is sick. . . .

--J.D.

Queen of Swords

Tea hee.

catmar

Re: God loves you whether you like it or not.

I like something similar a Wiccan friend had in her apartment window:

God loves you, but everyone else thinks you're an idiot.