I grew up with two grandfathers, one on each side, both Baptist preachers. Their Baptist ministry could not have been any more traditional either, especially for the south. Two church services on Sunday plus Sunday School, Wednesday bible study, no women in the pulpit, visit the sick and shut in at home and in the hospital. This means my mother also grew up with these same Baptist preachers, one her father-in-law, the other her father. Somewhere along the way after many years of going to church, singing in the choir, sitting on the first pew, dressing to the nines, my mother became disenfranchised with traditional church going. She used to say, "I have seen nothing in my home-life that suggests the church makes a person better. She became bitter and resentful of the hypocrisy she experienced outside of church." When I was about 10, she stopped going. She sent us with the neighborhood organ player, but she stopped going, completely. Only times she stepped back in a church was for a wedding or a funeral, period.
At about age 11 I met a nice lady just outside of our neighborhood who taught bible study in her home. I did not know at the time she was a Jehovah Witness, quite a departure from my religious indoctrination. The wonderful thing however about spending time with her was her teachings. I used to go to her house a couple times a week at first then more. My friend Pam and I were drawn to her ability to explain things from the bible. One day she sent us home with some pamphlets and told us if we wanted to fill them out and send them in. We would begin getting regular study guides on various subject areas. I did. Pam did.
A few months into my visiting this nice lady my mother became more aware and curious about what I was doing at this lady's house. I told her what I thought I needed to, just enough, in order to continue going there. I did not tell her that this lady was a Jehovah's Witness, which was akin to being the anti-Christ in my mom's limited view. At nearly the same time, I also became the house evangelist. I prayed for everyone walking through the door and tried out my mini-sermons on anyone who stood still long enough to hear me. I quoted so much scripture and conducted so many preaching sessions that after a couple of weeks no one in my family was speaking to me and if someone happened to visit while I was home they dashed into the house and into a back room away from my scripture pontifications as fast as their feet would carry them.
After confronting the lady at her home, my mother demanded I not go back to visit her anymore. She thought my head was being filled with too much unknown / unproven scripture. I snuck out of the house and went anyways. One day early evening the doorbell rang.
This evening happened to be the one day that week my mother was off work from both jobs. I answered the door and saw three women standing outside holding pamphlets. Based on my instincts, I immediately stepped outside onto the porch. They began telling me about Jesus the archangel the highest created being. They talked about salvation, good works, obedience. They were Jehovah Witnesses. Just then my mother appeared dressed in a house gown, plastic hair curlers, and house shoes. She had brimstone fire in her eyes. She pushed the screen door so hard it nearly completely came off its hinges. She looked like the devil incarnate himself. In less than one minute my mom used more curse words than I have ever heard in my entire life. She cursed these women up and down and sideways calling them everything but a child of their archangel. They back off the porch spilling pamphlets as they tripped backwards, never taking their eyes off momma's daggers. I bent down and began picking up pamphlets as I listened to momma continual cursing at them all the way down the street. I never saw them again and momma never again had to instruct me on where to go for bible study. I was back to the King James version, scared straight.
Once a Baptist, always a Baptist.
At about age 11 I met a nice lady just outside of our neighborhood who taught bible study in her home. I did not know at the time she was a Jehovah Witness, quite a departure from my religious indoctrination. The wonderful thing however about spending time with her was her teachings. I used to go to her house a couple times a week at first then more. My friend Pam and I were drawn to her ability to explain things from the bible. One day she sent us home with some pamphlets and told us if we wanted to fill them out and send them in. We would begin getting regular study guides on various subject areas. I did. Pam did.
A few months into my visiting this nice lady my mother became more aware and curious about what I was doing at this lady's house. I told her what I thought I needed to, just enough, in order to continue going there. I did not tell her that this lady was a Jehovah's Witness, which was akin to being the anti-Christ in my mom's limited view. At nearly the same time, I also became the house evangelist. I prayed for everyone walking through the door and tried out my mini-sermons on anyone who stood still long enough to hear me. I quoted so much scripture and conducted so many preaching sessions that after a couple of weeks no one in my family was speaking to me and if someone happened to visit while I was home they dashed into the house and into a back room away from my scripture pontifications as fast as their feet would carry them.
After confronting the lady at her home, my mother demanded I not go back to visit her anymore. She thought my head was being filled with too much unknown / unproven scripture. I snuck out of the house and went anyways. One day early evening the doorbell rang.
This evening happened to be the one day that week my mother was off work from both jobs. I answered the door and saw three women standing outside holding pamphlets. Based on my instincts, I immediately stepped outside onto the porch. They began telling me about Jesus the archangel the highest created being. They talked about salvation, good works, obedience. They were Jehovah Witnesses. Just then my mother appeared dressed in a house gown, plastic hair curlers, and house shoes. She had brimstone fire in her eyes. She pushed the screen door so hard it nearly completely came off its hinges. She looked like the devil incarnate himself. In less than one minute my mom used more curse words than I have ever heard in my entire life. She cursed these women up and down and sideways calling them everything but a child of their archangel. They back off the porch spilling pamphlets as they tripped backwards, never taking their eyes off momma's daggers. I bent down and began picking up pamphlets as I listened to momma continual cursing at them all the way down the street. I never saw them again and momma never again had to instruct me on where to go for bible study. I was back to the King James version, scared straight.
Once a Baptist, always a Baptist.
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