say_hello_2_heavenNo wonder my parents pitched us kids into Sunday School at the Methodist church. They wanted some peace and quiet! Six of us? In a small one-story house? Sure, dump us and sit in that sanctuary. It’s peaceful there. There’s the songs of angels. It must have been like cozy slippers for them, going to church once a week. I would have done the same thing, not that I would have liked it.

I did not like it. Teachers reading Bible stories to us? Not fun. Us, reciting Psalms? No, thank you. Teachers reminding us about Jesus’ mighty sacrifice by being nailed onto a cross? Unpleasant, to be sure. I just wanted the treats at the end of class. Cookies. Apple cider. Let’s make that happen, yo! If I have to listen to you teachers talk about loaves and fishes and stuff, just hurry it up. Apple cider. COOKIES!

This said, I’m an atheist. I have been since I was a tot. I knew that the Bible stories recited to me in Sunday School were just that — STORIES. There’s some good ones, sure. She turned into what? A pillar of salt?! Whoa. A father nearly killing his son, Isaac? Gadzooks! But, even then, a young impressionable tot with cookie crumbs all over his lips, knew they were just little tales to learn from. You can learn from the Bible just like you can learn from Aesop. Or Cormac McCarthy.

A brief window, then, into my life based on my relationship with the “Good Book”….

Sunday School:

Hated it. Still smarting over the kid who said my drawing of Mt. Ararat wasn’t realistic. I hope that kid goes to Hell.

Sunday School Graduation:

Hated it. Still feeling queasy over standing in front of the congregation receiving a gift of a new Bible. It was fake red leather. It was inscribed to me by my teacher. It was something I’d probably never read. That said, there were cool maps in the back of it. Oh, so THAT’S where Judea is!

Middle School:

My brother started really getting into God and Jesus and stuff. I have no idea why. He said he was having a hard time at school (who wasn’t?) and he was praying once in some rainy forest or something and then the clouds parted and the sun came out a little. He said God had spoken to him. I said that the clouds parted and the sun came out a little.

High School:

I watched “The Last Temptation of Christ” and was blown away. The movie was awesome. Peter Gabriel’s soundtrack was often used during make out sessions with my girlfriend, Shawna.

College:

I took a Bible as Literature class. I thought it appropriate since I thought that the Bible was literature. Being a rascal I wrote my big paper on the Song of Solomon — a book in the Bible. The passage is kind of porny! I think there’s several Biblical euphemisms for penis in there. Penises, in the Bible. HA!

College, again:

I dated a clarinet player who was really religious. She’d only take her top off. She was afraid to go to Hell if she took off anything more. I broke up with her. She said I was going to Hell.

20-Something:

I discovered “The Last Temptation of Christ” was actually a novel, written by Nikos Kazantzakis. I read it. It was good. Better than the movie? Yes, but I wasn’t making out with Shawna while I was turning the pages due to the fact that we broke up a few years before.

Wedding:

I eventually got married. In a church. With a woman. Prayers were uttered. I didn’t close my eyes. I didn’t bow my head. I wrote my own vows. I didn’t mention God or anything. I considered quoting Song of Solomon. It’s pretty damn sexy. Give it a read and you’ll think to yourself, “Hey! Isn’t that a euphemism for a penis!” HA!

30-Something:

Weird, but I sure like Jesus novels. Jim Crace’s “Quarantine,” about Jesus’s 40 days in the wilderness, is a luminous read. “Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal,” by Christopher Moore, is not as luminous. But, what it lacks in luminosity it makes up for in laughing until milk comes out of your nose. (Made weird if you weren’t drinking milk at the time.)

Writing:

I started writing short stories. Most all the characters in those early days were named after the funny names I found in the Bible. Abishag. Shammuah. Hepzibah. Gomer. Zaphnathpaaneah. Zaphnathpaaneah is also a good name for a fictional penile enhancement remedy!

Family:

When my father-in-law died in a freak tragic rogue wave accident in Mexico I still didn’t believe in God but I started believing him to be a gigantic asshole.

Baby:

My daughter talks about God, sometimes. I’d like to say that God is like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. Make believe. She still believes in them, though, too, and I’d rather have her believe in Santa Claus her whole life, than God.

Divorce:

I got one. I was really sad about it. Some people suggested I go to church. Maybe read the Bible. Find solace in that stuff. No. I just turned on that awesome Frightened Rabbit album and went running a lot. I also drank beer.

My Future Death:

Me and my daughter visit graveyards a lot. She likes them. They tell stories, the tombstones. She likes reading off the names, when they died, asking me how old they were when they passed. She believes in the Heaven in the Bible. I believe that MY Heaven, if there was such a thing, would be found in her, walking with me among those tombstones. “Heaven sounds nice,” she says.

“THIS is nice,” I say, holding her hand, before we get back in the car. We tell each other fart jokes.


 
 
Become a Patron!

This post may contain affiliate links.