Are You Saved?

 A few days ago I received an envelope in my snail mail (remember "snail mail?") from my longtime friend and former school classmate.

We've known each other since first grade (that's 1947 for you young folk).  In high school we were marching bandmates. He the bass drum and me the sousaphone (not tuba, that's a different instrument).

Me with my Sousaphone instrument after a football game 1958 at a home game at my high school in Downingtown, PA

Even though we were classmates from the first grade through the ninth grade, we didn't become close friends until tenth grade when we were both marching band members. We would take turns saving a seat for each other on the band bus because we were always the last on the bus. Band members loaded their instruments in the bottom compartments on the band bus.

That's me on the left with my fellow Sousaphone players Dominic, Dick and Allen. Some of the bet times of my life folks!

Since our instruments were the largest, we always loaded our instruments last. Those  three years of marching band and the away games are some of my fondest memories of high school, especially since our high school was a winning team.

A picture I took on Thanksgiving Day 1958 of our home game with our biggest rival Coatesville. I splurged and got a roll of color film, which was quite expensive in that day. I just wish I had someone take a picture of me but I was so shy that I wouldn't ask anyone. At least I have a roll of these pictures. During the football games we band members would be on the sidelines. So much fun! Great memories especially when your team wins! Memories I will never forget!

After high school we continued our friendship. He went to college, I went into the Army. We corresponded and when I came home on leave we sometimes got together. One year I even brought an Army buddy with me and we spent a weekend at his family's cottage on the Chesapeak Bay.

However, over the years we eventually drifted apart. Then we came together at our 35th class reunion. By this time he was married with two children. We became close friends again. And from that time on our friendship has continued. 

I liked him for many reasons and in fact during our high school friendship I had the hots for him. Of course I never told him that. This was the Terrible Fifties, remember that. Class of 1959, we were the last class of the Fifties. Very repressive times. I, as a gay man, way illegal. However, at the reunion, I was no longer attracted. Maybe it was because he was fat and bald now or maybe my taste changed because my horizons broadened. But this is another avenue which I'm not going down now. What I did continue to like about him was his dry wit and sardonic sense of humor. We just clicked. Except for one thing, he's an evangelical.  Yes, one of those who feel their mission is to save my soul.

As regular followers of my blog know, I was brought up in the Baptist Church. I went to Sunday school. I even have a certificate (which I still have) for perfect attendance when I was eight years old. I enjoyed church. But then came a time where I fell away from the Christian church. One of my favorite aunts took me with her to her church which was a Pentecostal church. I'm a naturally curious person so when the church pastor (preacher?) came time to deliver his sermon I was all ears. I noticed right away he wasn't smiling. He looked angry. Then he began his sermon, if  you can call it that. By the time he was done he was literally foaming at his mouth (white foam around his lips), red faced and sweat beads on his forehead. The only thing I distinctly remember about his sermon was him saying "You're all sinners! You'll be a sinner all your life! You're die a sinner!" This then ten years old was in shock. I was stunned. Heretofore the church I went to was gentle and loving. I was taught all the Christian principals of "love thy enemy", "turn the other cheek", "help the poor", and all the other Christian principals that today's Trump loving evangelical "Christians" don't practice. The main takeaway I got was no hope for me. I knew I was different (gay) by the time I was ten years old. After hearing that hateful sermon I thought "What's the use?" This hateful, insecure God who needs constant praise (going to church to praise God), and who is ready to smite anyone who dares not praise him and "accept" his son (Jesus) as their savior is a sinner. I was born a sinner? Give me a break! I had nothing to do with it.  From that moment on I fell away from the church. I stopped going to Sunday school. I was a sinner so what was the point? 

Since then I've been to different churches, usually with friends. I've even been in a Catholic Church, Pat is Catholic and goes to church almost every Sunday. In fact Pat spent seven years in a seminary. My very good friend Don has for years taken care of his church in center city Philadelphia. My late brother John as a Bob Jones trained evangelical pastor in Greenville South Carolina. Even though I continued to feel the sense of comfort in those buildings with the lemon wood polish smell of the wooden pews, I knew I would never join that cult. I've even been to a Quaker service (for a deceased classmate of mine). My maternal ancestors were Pennsylvania Quakers. Ironically I felt most comfortable in the Quaker meeting house, stark as it was in ambiance (no polished wooden pews and stained glass windows). At a Quaker service no one is screaming at you "You're a sinner!!!!!" But I always knew in my heart that organized or "man-made religion was not for me. Especially as a gay man where I'm even considered the lowest of the low.  

So what am I getting at here with this blog post? My longtime friend, my "Christian" friend, in his arrogance and hubris sends to me again (he's done it before) a booklet stating it's not too late to save my soul. He lied and said "Bill accepted Jesus Christ as his savior". That was a lie I know it because Bill and I often talked about how we both fell away from organized "man made" religion. This man made religion left both of us down. We both early on realized organized religion wasn't for us. I know that organized religion provides comfort for many and that's fine. I don't scream at them "You're wrong!" If that's what gives them comfort, wonderful. Go for it. But keep your religion to yourself. Don't try and "save" me. Mind your own business.

At one time I tried to discuss the inconsistencies of the evangelical argument. I asked my friend "What happens to the little old lady who lives alone in her house and has done good all her life? Does she go to Heaven when she dies?" My friend said "No, not unless she accepts Jesus Christ as her Savior." Uh, okay. Then I asked about the serial killer Ted Bundy who "accepted" Jesus Christ while he was laying on his prison gurner shortly before he was executed for his horrendous crimes. My friend said "Yes, as long as he accept Jesus Christ as his Savior." You know what I say to that? This is bullshit! I also asked him about the billion or more people in the world who practice different religions, "Would they be accepted in the Kingdom of Heaven?" He again said "No, not unless they accept Jesus Christ as their Savior". Yeah, right. This is a guy who voted for Trump....twice. Bullshit.

I have a pretty good idea of what will happen when I die. My soul, that energy force that has been dwelling in this body of mine for the past eighty-three years, will leave my human form and be one with the cosmos. I look up at the sky at night and I see all those stars. That's where I'll be, reunited with Bill. In fact Bill came by again last night to let me know he's still with me by way of that burned out Christmas light I've talked about before in previous blog posts. Yesterday, after I accidentally came across a video of Bill right after he retuned home from the rehab unit and I spent the next three years caring for him, I was in pretty bad shape feeling sorry for myself. I miss Bill so much that sometimes I don't want to go on alone. Pat provides comfort but Bill and I had a special relationship. Bill needed me and I needed Bill. Pat is fine by himself. He can take care of himself. Bill and I needed each other. 

When I die, I will be reunited with Bill's soul. This I know and no pamphlet sent through the mail by a friend is going to change my mind. I know my friend thinks he is doing good by trying to "save" me but what he is really doing is what that long ago Pentecostal preacher did to me. He's yelling at me "You're a sinner and you're going to hell unless you spend the rest of your life praising this insecure God of mine or else he will damn you to Hell for eternity!"

What's the deal with his God anyway who needs all this praise all the time? Know where that comes from, feudal medieval England. The "lords" maintain control over the peasants by promise of a heavenly afterlife as long as they praised them thus the use of the world "The Lord" all the time in evangelical religion. See the parallel with Trump and his brain dead followers? Trump is "the Lord", chosen by God to "save" us. The Orange Jesus. 

Man made religion is all a con job in my opinion. If that's  your thing but don't put your crap on me. 

Again, the arrogance and hubris, that's the problem with man made religion. And that goes for all the man-made religions including Islam. But you see how magnanimous I am? If your religious practices give you comfort, go for it. But leave me alone.

I'm a spiritualist. That's my belief. Don't pray for me. Pray for yourself.