It is just as if it happened yesterday. Well, maybe the day or two before yesterday. But it is as clear as clear can be. The preacher grabbed me by the hair on my head, shoved me face first into the water, yanked me back up, slapped me on the back of the head and shouted, "I Baptize you in the name of Jesus Christ!...Who's next?"
And that was the beginning of my perfect life as a soldier in the Army of the Lord. I had laid all my sins along with the temptations of the flesh, at the feet of Christ. I was 16 years old and I felt really good. Free for the first time. Then I remembered that I had promised God that once I was Baptized I would quit smoking. Not to worry. Jesus would lift that stinking vice from me. But I still had half a pack of Pall Mall's and I knew God did not want us mortals to waste stuff. So, just as soon as I smoked that last cigarette I would be free of my sin. That was 1951. And sure enough, when that pack was finished and a bit of time and a few more packs, I quit. That was 1991. But hey! What is 40 years to a God who tells us that a thousand years are but a minute to Him?
Well, that's my brain rolling about because I arose too early today. Frankly I am very relieved not to have to fuss and worry about who is the really, honest to goodness true People of God. I'm pretty sure that God is just as confused. It would be very helpful if people just received comfort from their particular Faith and allowed others to enjoy their own brand. But we have to always add that part about us being the Chosen Ones, and thus all others are Evil. Then we must either convert them or wipe them out. And when we get done doing all that converting and wiping, what do we do? Why, we begin bickering among ourselves as to who is really the Truest of the True Believers.
Has anyone ever had the feeling that religion is related to mental illness? Just asking.
Curious Carl
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