The Story of Grandad: Chapter 4
Successful Christianity
My grandfather practices what I like to call 'Successful Christianity'. It is very easy to practice, and probably has become second-nature to him at this point.
Successful Christianity centers on not questioning God's ways...but is so much more than that. Never question God's motives. If you don't know why something happened, don't think about it. Questions lead to doubt, doubt to disbelief, disbelief leads straight to hell's very door.
The second part of Successful Christianity is to give God credit for even the most trivial things. My grandfather thanks God for the invention of the fork. He thanked God the other day that our outdoor trashcan has wheels.
Now, call me a skeptic, but I really don't think God cares whether or not the garbage can has wheels, and I'm pretty sure God doesnÂt care whether we pick our food up with our hands, use chopsticks or grab it with a fork.
But my grandfather does, and I think after being a Christian for 90 years, he would have to.
He also likes to make bold statements on what Christianity has to say about stuff. For example, science has enough proof that there were such things as dinosaurs so it is impossible for Christians to say 'Naw, those aren't bones. They could just be funny looking rocks.' My grandfather decided that there were indeed dinosaurs at one time, but that since they were so big, and couldn't do man any good, they weren't allowed on the Ark, and were thus drowned in the 40 day flood.
You see, that's not really in the Bible, but I guess if you believe as he believes, that is the only logical answer. Thus I say again, my grandfather practices Successful Christianity.
Of course it is the current bane of his Christian existence that I do not practice it with him. You see, I have entirely too many doubts to successfully integrate Christianity into a working part of my life. So, Grandad tries to convince me. And he tries almost daily. My favorite line of his is, 'Well, it's Saturday night.'
'Yeah, it sure is, Grandad.' I reply. At this point I'm ready.
'Tomorrow's Sunday. Do you think you'd like to go to Church with me tomorrow?'
At this point I pause in the classic form of contemplation. After a moment I ever so thoughtfully respond, 'No Grandad, but thanks for asking.'
Going back a bit to when I first moved to Jersey, I would accompany Grandad to church every Sunday. My family made it known that it was required of me. It was my rent, so to speak. But after being here for a few months I realized this went against everything I believe Christianity stands for. And I don't mean the Catholic 'we run your life and we love it' Christianity, or the Jim and Tammy Faye Baker Christianity either. I mean the wise teachings of Jesus Hoobastank Christ and those who came before him.
You see, at this point in my life, all going to church would do for me is make me angry. I would sit for an hour or so in this building I didn't want to be in, surrounded by people I didn't want to know, listening to stuff I didn't want to hear. They could be right, they could be wrong, I didn't care. I just wanted to go home and enjoy my Sunday.
And of course going to Church would require then spending the rest of my day with my family. Going to lunch, going to my aunt's house, and finally going home around 7:00 PM. Not that I don't love them all, but it just seemed a waste of an otherwise useful day.
So, one day, many moons ago, I told Grandad that I too was going to drive to church. He drove his car; I drove mine. Once there I helped him out of his car. I hung up his coat. I found us a seat. I then sat for a moment before saying, 'I'll be right back.'
Well upon uttering those words, I bolted. A slow bolt mind you, but a bolt none the less. I went home. I enjoyed my day. I won my freedom, and I haven't been back since.
My grandfather practices what I like to call 'Successful Christianity'. It is very easy to practice, and probably has become second-nature to him at this point.
Successful Christianity centers on not questioning God's ways...but is so much more than that. Never question God's motives. If you don't know why something happened, don't think about it. Questions lead to doubt, doubt to disbelief, disbelief leads straight to hell's very door.
The second part of Successful Christianity is to give God credit for even the most trivial things. My grandfather thanks God for the invention of the fork. He thanked God the other day that our outdoor trashcan has wheels.
Now, call me a skeptic, but I really don't think God cares whether or not the garbage can has wheels, and I'm pretty sure God doesnÂt care whether we pick our food up with our hands, use chopsticks or grab it with a fork.
But my grandfather does, and I think after being a Christian for 90 years, he would have to.
He also likes to make bold statements on what Christianity has to say about stuff. For example, science has enough proof that there were such things as dinosaurs so it is impossible for Christians to say 'Naw, those aren't bones. They could just be funny looking rocks.' My grandfather decided that there were indeed dinosaurs at one time, but that since they were so big, and couldn't do man any good, they weren't allowed on the Ark, and were thus drowned in the 40 day flood.
You see, that's not really in the Bible, but I guess if you believe as he believes, that is the only logical answer. Thus I say again, my grandfather practices Successful Christianity.
Of course it is the current bane of his Christian existence that I do not practice it with him. You see, I have entirely too many doubts to successfully integrate Christianity into a working part of my life. So, Grandad tries to convince me. And he tries almost daily. My favorite line of his is, 'Well, it's Saturday night.'
'Yeah, it sure is, Grandad.' I reply. At this point I'm ready.
'Tomorrow's Sunday. Do you think you'd like to go to Church with me tomorrow?'
At this point I pause in the classic form of contemplation. After a moment I ever so thoughtfully respond, 'No Grandad, but thanks for asking.'
Going back a bit to when I first moved to Jersey, I would accompany Grandad to church every Sunday. My family made it known that it was required of me. It was my rent, so to speak. But after being here for a few months I realized this went against everything I believe Christianity stands for. And I don't mean the Catholic 'we run your life and we love it' Christianity, or the Jim and Tammy Faye Baker Christianity either. I mean the wise teachings of Jesus Hoobastank Christ and those who came before him.
You see, at this point in my life, all going to church would do for me is make me angry. I would sit for an hour or so in this building I didn't want to be in, surrounded by people I didn't want to know, listening to stuff I didn't want to hear. They could be right, they could be wrong, I didn't care. I just wanted to go home and enjoy my Sunday.
And of course going to Church would require then spending the rest of my day with my family. Going to lunch, going to my aunt's house, and finally going home around 7:00 PM. Not that I don't love them all, but it just seemed a waste of an otherwise useful day.
So, one day, many moons ago, I told Grandad that I too was going to drive to church. He drove his car; I drove mine. Once there I helped him out of his car. I hung up his coat. I found us a seat. I then sat for a moment before saying, 'I'll be right back.'
Well upon uttering those words, I bolted. A slow bolt mind you, but a bolt none the less. I went home. I enjoyed my day. I won my freedom, and I haven't been back since.
posted by Damon | 10:48 AM
1 Comments:
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