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Don't mess
with the bull.
JOIN!!!
This Is Why I'm Going To Hell
Growing up, Sunday mornings meant a number of things in my house. Sundays meant uncomfortable clothes, a rushing mother, and seeing my dad with little bloody bits of paper on his face. Only on Sundays. It also, usually, meant a nice brunch out. But, not, or course, before going to church.
(we may need some tissue)
From my youngest years, I have vague memories of going to church: dancing in a weird costume for some reason, reciting the wrong prayer in place of the “our father”, using the “I brought this guy and he brought me” loophole to get a ‘bring a friend to church’ prize. Going to church, Sunday school, is something that I just did. My parents went to church, they took me, I believed what I was told. So is the basic belief structure and understanding that a small child has on religion, you believe in your parents and they believe in this.
Of all of the memories I do have of
my Church days, over a decade of Sunday mornings, only one involves my
brother.
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We were young. Church was over.
My brother was in the doorway of
his bedroom at the end of the hall laughing with a friend. The way they were
huddled indicated that something very interesting was occurring. Being the
little brother to the older cooler brother, I needed to know what this funny,
interesting thing was. There was a back to me, and my small self was trying
desperately to see around, over, under, wherever I could to catch a glimpse. The
moment I was discovered, the activity stopped.
(what're you guys doin'?)
What is it? What is so funny? I had to know.
My brother assured me in that brotherly way that it was nothing, and to leave them alone.
I pleaded, I begged, I must know this thing that is causing so much joy and elation
He said, “Fine,” adding, “But, you have to promise not to laugh.”
“Okay,” I affirmed
“You promise?” He asked, “Do you swear to God?”
“Yes!” I declared instantly.
“Say it,” he said, “Say, ‘I swear to God’”
“I swear to God,” I said.
Confident that I was on board, my brother proceeded.
Standing at his dresser, me in his
doorway, my brother held up his thumb. He raised his hand and began to move his
thumb downward toward the surface of the dresser top. An action that might
suggest he was going to stick his thumb into some non-existent pie.
(historical reenactment)
In the few moments that this was happening, I began to lose it. I felt the beginnings of a tremble in my belly. The trembling moved quickly to my chest. My throat. I placed both hands over my mouth to stifle.
My brothers’ thumb made contact. I struggled desperately to keep it together.
The thumb was on the dresser for no more than a second before I exploded into hysterical laughter.
My brother lifted his hand instantly and looked at me with a smirk.
“Now you’re going to hell.” He said.
“No I’m not, why?” I asked.
“Because you swore to God, and you laughed. You lied. You are going to go to hell when you die.”
“That’s stupid,” I said, and walked away.
That night, in the darkness, I couldn’t sleep. I sat awake thinking:
Swear to god. Do I swear to God? Why did I swear to God? This is stupid. How could I have messed up so bad? I’m going to hell. I’m going straight to hell when I die. It’s all over. He didn’t even do anything! Why did I laugh?!
I wept until my eyes were raw.
I fell asleep knowing that I was doomed to an eternity in hell.
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As I have grown, I have come to realize that these
things are not nearly as rigid and finite as a child may interpret them to be,
and what was so real at the time was actually a very silly notion. I am now
fairly certain that I am not doomed to an eternity of damnation. Though, it
does sometimes humor me to think that at those pearly gates, as I peek over the
pedestal at the logbook containing all of my trespasses, the thumb incident will
be somewhere at the bottom.
("there IS the matter of this 'thumb' thing")
I have recently brought this incident up to my brother. His reaction was first denial, then quiet admittance. He never knew the second part, just his bit. I think he felt a little ashamed. We worked it out. He is my big brother. He was kind of doing his job. It was bad at the time, but it has become a memory that I value. And, it was actually a pretty great trick.
Just what the hell was he doing with his thumb, anyway?
Vaporman87 Posted on Feb 06, 2015 at 11:04 PM
Very well said fuschnikt. Those kids are in good hands with you.
fuschnikt Posted on Feb 06, 2015 at 10:28 PM
Thanks guys. I was unsure about posting this one. religion can be a weird subject for people. But I figured, if people are going to be posting about family stuff, this is my family stuff. So, why not? Besides, it also has a lot to do with the whole big brother/little brother dynamic.
I actually teach Sunday school now. 2nd grade. Vaporman, you make some great points about children and religion. Having this story under my belt helps me a lot. Kids can take things very seriously. They see the world very differently than a grown up and think in different ways. Black and white, almost. As this story can attest, I fully believed that what I did was bad, and there was no coming back from it. In Sunday school I make sure that these kids know that there is a long life ahead of them. They may make mistakes, they may feel guilty about things or bad for doing things, but there is nothing you can't come back from. We take the opportunity to lay a foundation of the faith. We teach the stories and themes, the big picture stuff can come later when they are ready to really think about it, relate to it, and form their own real thoughts about it.
Hoju Koolander Posted on Feb 05, 2015 at 10:50 PM
Nice story, kept me in suspense wondering what the thumb thing was, then no explanation! Scholars will debate it for centuries. If anything I think your brother would go to hell for tricking you into that. Seems like rather devilish behavior to me. But if that was the case, every kid who ever said, "Psych!" would probably be feeling the poke of a pitchfork as well.
echidna64 Posted on Feb 05, 2015 at 08:56 PM
Excellent article! Church was always an awkward experience for me growing up. Even at a young age, I never really believed in what was being taught, I kind of half-heartedly went along with it (although I was a full blown sucker for Santa Claus).
I remember one time during summer bible school the lesson of the day was that if you said "I accept Jesus into my heart" you would be saved. I remember thinking, that's it? Just one magic phrase and BOOM you're in like Flynn? Also, there was crucifixion reenactment that came with a parental warning lol
Vaporman87 Posted on Feb 05, 2015 at 05:52 PM
Ha! What a story. That is just cruel of your brother. I feel so bad for the young you, lying in bed, scared to death of your fate.
Sadly, it is this type of thing that turns people away from most Christian denominations, and religion altogether. They don't like the idea of the slightest wrong doing damning them to a life in H-E-double hockey sticks (LOL).
The truth is far more complicated than that, and likely none of us truly know it fully. But how could a child possibly understand that? That is why, unlike my parents, I do not wish for my kids to hear the "fire and brimstone" sermons. They can't comprehend it, and it will only make their life miserable at a time when they need to be loving it. No pastor or laymen is our judge, and nothing they say is infallible. Such things must be discovered and dealt with at a more appropriate age, and through their own research and contemplation.
I don't want my kids scared into my religion. I want them to choose. Naturally, I want them to choose a certain path, but I can't allow them to be coerced by fear or guilt. That won't lead to a full or rich experience at all. Of course, they WILL deal with fear and guilt. But they must be able to comprehend a much larger picture. And right now, they can't.
Anyway, on a lighter note, I LOVE the captions to the pictures! LOL. "there IS the matter of this 'thumb' thing". Awesome.
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