The hypocrisy of Christianity is something I see every day. I see people trying to save my soul but not wanting to help their fellow man. I see people telling me not speak my mind about the evils of Christianity while at the same time they judge a woman who strips to feed her kids. Perhaps I should explain WHY I feel that Christianity, as it is practiced to day, is now more of a private political club rather than a true faith.
I was seen as a heathen (which is wrong, I'm a heretic, actually) most of my life. I received pity from Christians while at the same time being held to a higher standard than their own little, darling, bullying children. If a Christian child stepped out of line they were told not to do it again (and usually it involved insulting or hurting me in some way). If I retaliated or told, I got to write essays until my hand hurt, got recesses taken away, and was removed from class until I could behave. Whatever these Christian people were teaching their children about me at home was coming out at school as pure spite and the parochial school I attended did little to dissuade it as I was seen as a poor, ignorant child in need of salvation.
If I complained, I got punished. If I fought back, I got punished. While a member of the basketball team, I sat the bench even though I was no worse than the rest of the Catholic brats on the team. If there was a play, I was the understudy for the lead (only because I had a great memory and could act.) When we did the nativity, I was the reader (again, supposedly for my memory but also because the roles were for parishioners’ children.) When the Mexican Fiesta rolled around, my parents and I were good enough to stand out in the sun to hock goods and games but I was never included in the stage performances (which my Catholic schoolmates were along with the CCD kids. CCD kids were those Catholic kids whose parents couldn’t afford tuition (and since one other girl and I were the only non-Catholics attending, our tuition hikes didn’t pay for adequate scholarships. These kids also rifled our desks and took anything of interest or value which included homework, books, library books, pencils, you name it. If the missing item was valuable and belonged to the school, we had to pay for it.) Even parties thrown by the other parents for the kids where everyone was invited, I was not included. Yet my mother, every year until high school, bought a cake for all the kids in my class to share and sent me to school with candy bars for them. (Yes, we’re hobbits – giving presents away on our own birthdays.) Every year until high school I gave everyone in my class a valentine even though there was a year I only got three in return. Yet we were the non-Christian heathens.
Additionally, when it came time for the school fundraisers, the school expected me to out perform myself every year. I held the record for highest sales in school for s few years, always getting the crappy prize that would have cost less to buy. Every year, my mother worked her tail off to hock that crap. I did the same going door to door in my neighborhood. Finally, my last (eighth grade) year, my mom and I had had enough. As instructed, at the end of the presentation and speech, I trotted back up to the front and turned in my sales sheet, empty, explaining I was not participating this year. We had already paid more than parishioners to go to that school and, frankly, got little in return. I was there to learn not generate funds. I also told the principal she could talk to my mother about it. She declined and instead, lectured me. This good Christian woman who acted like they had done so much for me treated me as ungrateful.
Me, ungrateful. Ungrateful for what? For the Christian behavior of your students? For the Christian behavior of your niece who couldn’t pass her teaching exams and had to begged a job from you where the policies of the Catholic schools are somewhat lax? For the fact that said niece did everything in her power to not only not include me in activities but also tried to fail me in English (even though my work was better than anyone else’s) because I was smarter than her? Ungrateful for Mr. Silverthorn who was mad because I could do long division and he couldn’t? Ungrateful for a classmate who hit me in the face with a soccer ball when I wasn’t even picked to play the game? I notice I got punished for kicking her fake apologies and her ass away from me, but she never got punished for launching that ball at me.
Ungrateful. Yeah right. I get treated differently and when I don’t roll over on cue, you get mad at me. Instead of talking to my mother, a REAL Christian.
That’s right, the self avowed deist before you (atheist to those of you whose religions I don’t follow) had both parents and both sets of grandparents who were Christian. This discrimination, however, occurred not only in the Catholic school that I attended but the Baptist and Christian bible schools and Sunday Schools I attended as well. Being unbaptized was the same as being slow with these people so a heavier hand was needed than was needed with their own kids. When I was ready to be baptized, I was informed I was too young and didn't understand the Bible well enough for the privilege. Never mind that I could argue finer points of the Bible with adults from age 8 or that the deacon’s daughter, who was two years younger than I was, was baptized the previous year.
The problem, most likely, stemmed from my parents not being avidly active in the church and not being rich enough to buy themselves a position. I don’t blame my parents. Instead, I blame the mandates of the church. The Catholic Church was willing to baptize me but, unless I got my parents to convert too, we would still be charged a non-parishioner’s tuition and I would still be subjected to the stigma.
And it was the same with every church my grandmother paid to send me to Vacation Bible School during the summer. The insistence of bringing my parents to church, otherwise there was something wrong with me. Talk about pressure, the pastors are telling me I have to save my parents’ souls when I know they are both Christian and baptized.
When I was a child, I had very strong religious beliefs. No adult, I don’t care how pious, could compete with me. In theological studies, not only could I quote passages of the Bible, I understood them and could discuss them on an adult level. I loved God, Jesus, and the Bible. So when people claiming to be good Christians left me out of Church activities and claimed me ignorant, I started to wonder. I got straight As in religion class, always knew my verses for Bible School, and tried to follow the edicts of the faith. Yet always, I was the sinner doomed to Hell (or so a well meaning priest told me when I was nine.) Well, at least the people I like will be there with me.
One particular thing I never understood: When I am supposed to be the slow heathen, why do I have to be forgiving and understanding? Shouldn’t the Christians and their children act so toward me since it is their mandate? Instead, I get treated like crap and, when I try to defend myself, I get a lecture on how I need to be more tolerant? WTF?
I was lucky, I only spent one depressing year in a Catholic High School before mom yanked me. Aside from a couple of run ins with Bible Thumpers, my high school years were largely good (at least from a religious standpoint) and mainly conversing with those individuals whose parents yanked them from Catholic School as well.
However, when I got to college, my first roommate was a charismatic Christian. She was a sweet, nice girl who never forced her beliefs on me or tried to save me. She just was what a good roommate should be – never there. I really felt sorry for her. She joined a sorority (one of three at our school as compared to 28 fraternities) and had a boyfriend. She felt guilty for the activities she enjoyed with her sisters and boyfriend and was constantly on herself about them. I really felt sorry for her. She had been baptized in high school after she lost her virginity at 14. Additionally her father had sexually abused her (and was still living in the house), so her turning to Christianity, I believe, was out of desperation and the person she turned to screwed her up even more.
I tried directing her to the counselors we had at school. Good ones too, I went to them myself, but she preferred to give it to God. Now, I understand that, but I don’t see where additionally talking to a licensed professional could hurt. I think she called her pastor and he told her not to, but I don’t know. I just tried to be as nice as I could and didn’t judge her – yeah, a Christian mandate practiced by a heretic. You can go blow a goat if you feel the need to comment here.
But I came through the rest of my college years, admittedly filled with stress and angst, unmolested by any more Christian propagandists.
As an adult, the story has taken a strange turn. It isn’t so much about saving my soul (although some still use the phrase) but more about cultivating my vote and my wallet. I still get invitations from Christians claiming that I will just LOVE their church if I just brought my husband to. Well, I decline the offer. Honestly, I don’t want to have that conversation, the one where I tell you your church sucks. Because, while for you it may fit, for me, it doesn’t work.
But people don’t understand that. It is no longer about being Christian, it’s about the churches struggling to have the most: the most votes, the most money, the most people, and the best clientele. Christianity no longer worries about charity (a few do but on the whole, I have never seen it except with Mother Theresa) but about politics. And when the pulpit is turned into soapbox, the tax-exempt status is no longer valid.
Despite my own experiences with Christianity, I don’t hold it against someone that they are Christian unless they start to annoy me with it. I respect (and I still do) that what you believe is sacred to you. Just don’t expect me to feel the same. Follow the Christian edicts when you feel the need to save my soul. “Love your Neighbor as yourself. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Bless those that curse you.”
Odd, I remember seeing that in a book on pagans. Is it possible that when the Gospels were translated in the 9th century by a misogynistic monk, that some of the pagan beliefs may have been stolen? Kinda like Winter Solstice, no?