Skip to main content

Joy Unspeakable, Part 6: Jesus Freak in Neverland

By undercover agnostic ~

My added zeal for the Lord, prompted by rapture-mania, manifested itself in peculiar ways, especially at the High School, a.k.a. my “harvest field” where I was commanded to fulfill the great commission. So, what do you call a kid who wears “Jesus” paraphernalia to school, attends a weekly Bible study during lunch, stuffs gospel tracts in lockers and coat pockets, owns no secular albums, and has a Gideon New Testament peeking out of her backpack? Take your pick: weirdo, nerd, fruitcake, Jesus Freak-- that was me. I was the clumsy misfit whom the jocks and cheerleaders mocked and patronized. Even Mr. Osmond, my Social Studies teacher, would roll his eyes in mild disgust when reading aloud, my fake Coca cola button, “JESUS CHRIST He’s the real thing,” or the sticker on my binder that said, “My God is not dead. Sorry about yours.” I took to heart the message I had heard repeatedly at church, “If you’re ashamed of God, He will be ashamed of you.” Lord knows I didn’t want the king of the universe claiming not to know me on judgment day, yet I couldn’t help feeling my face get hot while performing my duty as a Christian mascot. I wanted to follow Christ AND fit in, but I couldn’t have both. When I considered what Jesus endured on the cross, it seemed the least I could do was suffer the momentary pain of isolation and social suicide at my tiny rural High School. Just like the day I refused to dance my way into the lunch line in 6th grade, I believed God was most pleased with me when I felt ostracized and persecuted. As a result, for my entire four years of High School, I lived in Never, Never Land. I never went on a date, never kissed a boy (or a girl), never went to a party, never took a sip of alcohol, and never attended a rock concert or school dance. I didn’t even go out for track, despite my P.E. Teacher’s encouragement, because there were occasional meets on Sunday, and Mama was convinced that running the 100 yard dash would most certainly render the Sabbath unholy-a clear violation of the fourth commandment.

Jesus Freak-- that was me. I was the clumsy misfit whom the jocks and cheerleaders mocked and patronized. All of these moments describing a typical American teen’s rite of passage were off limits to me and I lived in a parallel universe. I clung tightly to the one club that would fully embrace me: The church. In my sanctuary, I felt safe, cared for and understood. Within the sacred walls, the God I loved and worshipped was revered instead of ridiculed and the people on the outside, who didn’t believe were the foolish ones-- not me. Inside the holy place, Jill and I were the poster kids every godly parent wished their teen would emulate. We were squeaky clean from head to toe, with excellent manners and servant’s hearts, willing to help anywhere we were needed. The only trouble we ever got into, during our entire teen age years, was driving to Pocatello, without permission, to go roller skating with the youth group, while our parents were touring the Holy Land. Yes, you heard me right. Roller. Skating. I knew my brother wouldn’t let us go, due to the blizzard, so I lied and said I had a piano lesson, which was true until my teacher called and cancelled, but Ray didn’t need to know that. This was our ticket to rendezvous with our Jesus homies and get a small taste of the wild side. By “wild” I mean, going out on a school night. But, as “luck” or, as my parents suggested, “the Holy Spirit” would have it, I backed into another car, in the parking lot, denting my dad’s pick up truck. The other car was not damaged as it was one of those old Cadillacs with the sharp pointy tail fins, that jabbed my dad’s tailgate like a wieldy sword, while leaving no trace of its devastation on its own beastly frame. We were grounded for the entire month of December and my dad decided not to fix the old GMC, so that every time we saw the crumpled artifact of our imprudence, we would remember what we had done- the gift of condemnation that just kept on giving! As Mama always warned, “Be sure your sins will find you out.” And they did.

Besides this one unfortunate indiscretion we really were good girls. I even showed up early at the local nursing home, to play the piano for the old folks, before our main service on Sunday mornings and we helped with children’s church, doing puppets and skits. Jill and I also sang duets during the offertory and I played piano solos on occasion. These things were not motivated by obligation or fear, but out of pure love for Jesus. All I can say is, I was the real deal. I wanted nothing more, than to live my life completely and wholeheartedly consecrated to Christ, and serving Him with my time and talents.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

So Just How Dumb Were Jesus’ Disciples? The Resurrection, Part VII.

By Robert Conner ~ T he first mention of Jesus’ resurrection comes from a letter written by Paul of Tarsus. Paul appears to have had no interest whatsoever in the “historical” Jesus: “even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, we know him so no longer.” ( 2 Corinthians 5:16 ) Paul’s surviving letters never once mention any of Jesus’ many exorcisms and healings, the raising of Lazarus, or Jesus’ virgin birth, and barely allude to Jesus’ teaching. For Paul, Jesus only gets interesting after he’s dead, but even here Paul’s attention to detail is sketchy at best. For instance, Paul says Jesus “was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” ( 1 Corinthians 15:4 ), but there are no scriptures that foretell the Jewish Messiah would at long last appear only to die at the hands of Gentiles, much less that the Messiah would then be raised from the dead after three days. After his miraculous conversion on the road to Damascus—an event Paul never mentions in his lette

Are You an Atheist Success Story?

By Avangelism Project ~ F acts don’t spread. Stories do. It’s how (good) marketing works, it’s how elections (unfortunately) are won and lost, and it’s how (all) religion spreads. Proselytization isn’t accomplished with better arguments. It’s accomplished with better stories and it’s time we atheists catch up. It’s not like atheists don’t love a good story. Head over to the atheist reddit and take a look if you don’t believe me. We’re all over stories painting religion in a bad light. Nothing wrong with that, but we ignore the value of a story or a testimonial when we’re dealing with Christians. We can’t be so proud to argue the semantics of whether atheism is a belief or deconversion is actually proselytization. When we become more interested in defining our terms than in affecting people, we’ve relegated ourselves to irrelevance preferring to be smug in our minority, but semantically correct, nonbelief. Results Determine Reality The thing is when we opt to bury our

ACTS OF GOD

By David Andrew Dugle ~   S ettle down now children, here's the story from the Book of David called The Parable of the Bent Cross. In the land Southeast of Eden –  Eden, Minnesota that is – between two rivers called the Big Miami and the Little Miami, in the name of Saint Gertrude there was once built a church. Here next to it was also built a fine parochial school. The congregation thrived and after a multitude of years, a new, bigger church was erected, well made with clean straight lines and a high steeple topped with a tall, thin cross of gold. The faithful felt proud, but now very low was their money. Their Sunday offerings and school fees did not suffice. Anon, they decided to raise money in an unclean way. One fine summer day the faithful erected tents in the chariot lot between the two buildings. In the tents they set up all manner of games – ring toss, bingo, little mechanical racing horses and roulette wheels – then all who lived in the land between the two rivers we

Christian TV presenter reads out Star Wars plot as story of salvation

An email prankster tricked the host of a Christian TV show into reading out the plots of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air and Star Wars in the belief they were stories of personal salvation. The unsuspecting host read out most of the opening rap to The Fresh Prince, a 1990s US sitcom starring Will Smith , apparently unaware that it was not a genuine testimony of faith. The prankster had slightly adapted the lyrics but the references to a misspent youth playing basketball in West Philadelphia would have been instantly familiar to most viewers. The lines read out by the DJ included: "One day a couple of guys who were up to no good starting making trouble in my living area. I ended up getting into a fight, which terrified my mother." The presenter on Genesis TV , a British Christian channel, eventually realised that he was being pranked and cut the story short – only to move on to another spoof email based on the plot of the Star Wars films. It began: &quo

On Living Virtuously

By Webmdave ~  A s a Christian, living virtuously meant living in a manner that pleased God. Pleasing god (or living virtuously) was explained as: Praying for forgiveness for sins  Accepting Christ as Savior  Frequently reading the Bible  Memorizing Bible verses Being baptized (subject to church rules)  Attending church services  Partaking of the Lord’s Supper  Tithing  Resisting temptations to lie, steal, smoke, drink, party, have lustful thoughts, have sex (outside of marriage) masturbate, etc.  Boldly sharing the Gospel of Salvation with unbelievers The list of virtuous values and expectations grew over time. Once the initial foundational values were safely under the belt, “more virtues'' were introduced. Newer introductions included (among others) harsh condemnation of “worldly” music, homosexuality and abortion Eventually the list of values grew ponderous, and these ideals were not just personal for us Christians. These virtues were used to condemn and disrespect fro

I can fix ignorance; I can't fix stupid!

By Bob O ~ I 'm an atheist and a 52-year veteran of public education. I need not tell anyone the problems associated with having to "duck" the "Which church do you belong to?" with my students and their parents. Once told by a parent that they would rather have a queer for their sons' teacher than an atheist! Spent HOURS going to the restroom right when prayers were performed: before assemblies, sports banquets, "Christmas Programs", awards assemblies, etc... Told everyone that I had a bladder problem. And "yes" it was a copout to many of you, but the old adage (yes, it's religious) accept what you can't change, change that which you can and accept the strength to know the difference! No need arguing that which you will never change. Enough of that. What I'd like to impart is my simple family chemistry. My wife is a Baptist - raised in a Baptist Orphanage (whole stories there) and is a believer. She did not know my religi