Go to church

The earliest memory I have of anything related to church is leaving.  Being dragged, in fact, away into the parking lot.  I don't remember specifically what happened, but if my mother is to be believed, I had caused some trouble in Sunday school.  I do remember Sunday school, specifically coloring pictures of Jesus and his disciples, always with sandaled feet and continually in the presence of sheep.  Their faces always seemed serious, and I could never figure out exactly why.  These pictures were not like the books I colored in school.  Even at this age I was a contrarian, so if there was some hint of seriousness in my activities at Sunday school, I acted out.  No doubt, it was for this reason that I was being dragged home.

I do not want to project false, romantic ideas back on my childhood, but I can't help but feel a tinge of what would later lead me toward atheism.  In church, I remember feeling stifled.  The air was thick with condescending looks.  And the word "arbitrary" comes to mind.  Why did we go to this big room and sing boring songs and talk about Jesus?  Jesus was boring, absolutely boring.  There were about a billion better things I could to do than go to church.  Even just thinking of those three words, "Go to church," creates ill flashbacks in my mind.

My family moved often when I was growing up, so there was never a chance to settle into one particular church.  But even when we become more stable in Cincinnati, we seemed to switched churches often.  I remember my parents were fond of a particular church in California, and they wanted to find a replacement.  I don't think they ever did.  So from an early age, I was made aware of a variety of worshiping styles.  Perhaps this led me to think of church as arbitrary.  If God is universal, why doesn't everyone do it the same way?

I struggle to remember anything specific.  It all seems like a wash now, and it was over quickly.  I do not remember when or why, but we stopped going to church, because, as my mother said, "I acted up too much."  She was probably right, I did.  So from the time I was about six or seven until college, I rarely stepped inside a church.  My parents tried, after they rediscovered their faith, but there was no way they were going to get me to go to church.