Church People

I was standing on my stoop on, I believe it was, Sunday, talking to my neighbor and just bullshitting when three men walked up to us holding little, blue plastic bags – the giveaway kind. I knew they were Church People coming around to tout the benefits of their particular church and, while I didn’t want to seem rude, I immediately stiffened at the sight of them. My neighbor is really big into church and was delighted to see these men, and was more than happy to speak with them about whatever they wanted to say. I just stood and listened. It turns out that I actually know one of them from a few years ago – he and his now-ex-wife used to attend PACT over at CAPA. Small world, eh?

So, they talked about what their church has – day camp for the kids, a modern ministry, and, most importantly, the ability to help those suffering from addiction, as well as their families. Okay, fine by me; I’m just not big into the church scene. As a kid, my mother “encouraged” my sister and me to convert from Protestantism to Catholicism because our dad (step-dad but the only dad we knew, remember?) was Catholic. So we converted and did the Baptism, Communion, and Confirmation all on the same day after taking months of private Catechism lessons with the Monsignor of the church. In any case, our mother basically forced us to attend church every single week, whether we wanted to attend or not. They even took us to see religion-based movies and would quiz us on them afterward to make sure we were actually watching the movie. I could never figure out why, just because my mother was so comfortable with church, she forced it on us – as if we were supposed to like it just because she did. That’s like forcing your kids to eat asparagus because you like it. It doesn’t make any sense.

Anyway, I grew up not really caring about religion and, over time, came to hold my own beliefs and study my own interests in that area and find that I’m more spiritual and of the Universal Energy faith, rather than a follower of an organized religion. The way I see it, I can pray from anywhere and don’t need to be sitting in a special building for the Universe to get my requests and messages. During our talk with the Church People my neighbor was becoming very interested in what they had to say while I just stood there listening. One of the gentlemen, I’ll call him Dan simply because I can’t remember his name, looked at me and said, “Don’t worry, Beth, we won’t force feed you.” Whew, what a relief, I really hate being force fed. I knew what he meant, though, even before he explained himself – they weren’t going to force their beliefs on me. I told him that I appreciated it because I’m not really into organized religion – I don’t like the idea of a man or woman reading the same book I’m reading and then telling me how to interpret that book. I’m sure we all know I’m referring to the Bible.

I told Dan that I’d had someone from another church stop by last year talking about his church and when I explained that I wasn’t interested because I hold my own beliefs he asked if he could drop off a CD of his pastor speaking. I agreed and told him I would listen to it, which I did. The CD started off with the pastor quoting a Bible passage which I immediately Googled. It was one line, yet the pastor went on and on talking about all the things that had come from that one-line passage: this happened, and that happened, and Jesus felt like this, and so on, etc. I Googled the passages before that one and the passages after that one and nowhere did I find anything even remotely resembling what the pastor was saying. Where did he come up with all of that extra information when it wasn’t written there? Beats the shit out of me, but he did. That’s why I’m not too keen on having someone tell me how to interpret what I’ve read when I’m capable of interpreting it myself.

Still, I took the baggie with all of the information in it and agreed to look through it. Dan and his friends left, with Dan looking directly at me and saying, “Looking forward to hearing from you, Beth.” Alright then. I took my baggie and went back inside my home. In the baggie there was a CD that I agreed to listen to, and I did. I ripped it to my computer and put it on my MP3 player and proceeded to bounce on my rebounder while I listened to the 55-minute long sermon. The pastor immediately had my attention because I’m sort of in a funk right now with my faith in the Universe, and the pastor began by talking about people who are negative and can’t seem to get around to the positive side of things lately. Ellen and I had just been discussing that very thing. I was starting to wonder if these men weren’t sent to my doorstep by the Universe to give me a little heads-up. I was actually thinking of sending it to Ellen so she could listen to it; what a great sign for the both of us.

I bounced; the pastor talked, and talked, and talked – and then he said something that just about lost me. He said something to the effect of, “I know some of you are sitting out there wondering why you don’t have all the things in life that you want. I know you’re asking that. Why does everyone else seem to get what they want while you’re being left behind? I can’t answer that for you, because it says in the Bible that there will always be poor people among us, but I can tell you…” That right there, that “there will always be poor people among us” is what made him lose most of my attention. If you’re trying to uplift and inspire a group of people, why in the fuck would you say something like that to bring them all back down again?

I continued listening to his sermon, but was really stuck on that line – “there will always be poor people among us.” When I was telling Ellen about it later she said, “What, so you and I are among the designated poor people mentioned in the Bible?” I guess we are; that’s the way it seems anyway. So I continued to listen to the CD like I said I would and the Pastor went on and on about who knows what at that point, I only got a couple of the points he was saying because I was stuck on that earlier line. During one part of the sermon, though, I distinctly recall him making a point and to clarify it he said, as if he were a member of the congregation, “Pastor, could you repeat that please, I’m on the short bus and I don’t really understand…” This pastor actually used the words “short bus” to his congregation. What the fuck is up with that? I thought pastors and clergy were supposed to be tolerant of all others, not make fun of them. Nice example he’s setting for the children there who went home and asked Mom and Dad what the short bus is.

As the sermon drew on, I started to grow bored and then he said that people who don’t have everything they need and want (aside from those designated to be poor) are people who just aren’t grateful for what they do have. According to this pastor, I don’t have a better place to live and the resources to get the work I need because I’m not grateful for living in squalor and being below-poverty level poor. Guess what I say about that? BULLSHIT!!! I am grateful for all I’ve got – not about being poor and living in this shithole community, but I’m grateful for the money to put food on the table, the fact that we even have a home, a car, clothing, utilities, and all the rest; and I give thanks for it every day and night. Don’t tell me I don’t have better because I’m not grateful; that’s a crock of shit!

Like I said, the only thing I can figure is that I’m one of the designated poor mentioned in the Bible. I had to Google the passage since the pastor didn’t actually say which one it is, and, even though it’s mentioned over and over again in many different places in the Bible, the closest I could come to finding what he said was Deuteronomy 15:11. Depending on which Bible you actually read, it may be different but the New American Standard Bible says Deuteronomy 15:11 reads, “For the poor will never cease to be in the land; therefore I command you, saying, 'You shall freely open your hand to your brother, to your needy and poor in your land.'” So, I’ll always be poor, and so will Ellen. You better do what you can to help us when you see us coming. Good grief. Wait, maybe that’s not the correct interpretation; perhaps I should call the pastor tomorrow and ask him to explain it further. I don’t fucking think so.

After that I was laughing to myself that I was actually still listening to the CD, but I’d said I would and I don’t go back on my word unless there is a seriously good reason. So he talked on and on and, just at about the ten-minute mark, he said he was signing off, but he kept talking, and talking, and he said he was going to go, and he kept talking, and he was going to go…I’m sure you get the hint. However, he didn’t just keep talking, his words suddenly sounded melodious, and louder, and more sing-songy, and louder. The man was actually starting to sing and it seriously reminded me of a Gospel church where the pastor is shouting and singing and the congregation is shouting out the “Amen”s and the “Hallelujah”s and all that. By the time I stopped the CD, I was laughing at the pastor; yes, I was laughing at him. This is the best the Church People could offer me to get me to attend their church? I’m sure they could’ve done better.

I’m willing to bet that I could spend some time talking to Dan and could get him to actually believe the way I do, just by giving him my point of view on things. I’m not giving it here because it would take forever and I don’t want to get into a religious debate with anyone. Although I do love a good debate, I’m writing this for fun, not to cause a stir in the community. I’ve already told my friends that I’m going to mess with the Mormons when they show up at my door this summer. I’ll agree to listen to them if they’ll give me the same courtesy in return. We’ll sit on my stoop and chat about religion and I’m betting I can convert, at least, one Mormon to my belief system before the summer is over. Even if I can’t, it’ll be fun trying. We designated poor people have a lot of time on our hands and have to find something constructive to do with it; may as well try to get others to give up their religions.

Until next time…peace to all.