How I Refused To Take A Commitment Pledge

When I was 18 years old, my whole life was pretty much centered around my little Southern Baptist church.  I know some of you might find that hard to believe.  It’s true though.

I’m not saying that I wasn’t pushing the envelop back then.  I was, but I was pretty secure in my Faith.  I just thought a lot of the “rules” the Church had were on the ridiculous side.  I thought the Church was a bit close-minded and uptight and I kind of thought that the Pastor and his wife were a bit choosy about which Bible verses they thought were important to pass on.

Now, when I say that my whole life pretty much centered around my little church, I’m not kidding.  I lived in New Orleans East, which wasn’t quite the city proper but wasn’t quite a suburb, and we had a mixture of types that came to our church from the projects to upper middle class — o.k. that was pretty much my parents. ;)  Most of my friends I was still speaking to after high school went to church there and we were all pretty much involved in whatever summer activities were going on from teaching or helping run the Vacation Bible School to participating in the Youth Choir to being active in the Youth Group — which was weird because my prom date was the Youth Leader — pushing that envelop, you know.

Looking back, I remember that summer rather fondly though it was the summer that my last by-blood grandfather died (complications from years of cancer from alcholoism and smoking).  Despite that one great sadness, I remember a lot of great friends who’ve since gone on with their lives, on to great things I’m sure.  I remember picnics and trips to the zoo and getting sent home from Vacation Bible School for wearing shorts (apparently teachers weren’t supposed to) and even getting ant bites while playing with the kids every day.  I remember loving choir and corrupting the missionary’s daughter by showing her rated “R” movies — she’d only had Star Wars to watch in the desert.  I remember semi-dating my ex-boyfriend’s little brother and I remember going to Astro-World.  I remember attending an all-African-American Baptist Church in Texas one Sunday and been amazed by their energy.  I remember being the center of attention and the Queen Bee and all of that too, I guess.

But I guess I also remember one Sunday that sticks out in my mind that just makes me angry.  You see, I didn’t always see eye to eye with the Pastor.  (In fact, there’s another story that about the choir going all boy after I left because I “danced” during our performance…they had to have an actual emergency meeting…it really was more of a sway…they shouldn’t have taken me to that all-African-American Church…but I digress)  It was no secret that the Pastor and I disagreed on a number of details in the Bible.  For many of his nitpicky things where he would find scriptures that would supposedly claim something was a sin, I would find something that would conflict with what he said.  Pastors apparently don’t like that.  He really should have talked to his Sunday School teachers because they taught me to do that.

Anyway, it wasn’t really like I was trying to fight him on everything so much as I just refuse to believe something “just because”.  Yes, I understand there’s a certain amount of Faith required in the God and salvation thing and I get that, but that doesn’t mean that I have to believe all the little things are true.  There’s nothing anywhere that says that I have to believe every word that comes out of my Pastor’s mouth, especially if I can find a scripture that disagrees.  It particularly annoys me if they use Old Testament scripture to tell me I’m a sinner when New Testament scripture tells me I’m not.

So, anyway, the Summer was ending and I guess he realized that his influence over some of us would be ending as some of us would be leaving for college and for some of us, he’d have a chance to gain influence because (and I know this sounds conceited but it’s true) I would be going to college and my influence over them would be gone — as I said I was Queen Bee, like a female Peter Pan with the Lost Boys.

Anyway, I remember that he started that sermon by pulling out this nasty jar of water that he said came from the canal outside (you know, those canals that overflowed into the city?) and he asked us who would drink it.  Anyway, the sermon was about poisoning your body and it was mostly about drinking and drugs and smoking and a little about premarital sex.  At the end of it he said he wanted to ask the youth to “volunteer” to come up to the front and make a commitment, a pledge, not to drink or do drugs or smoke or have premarital sex.  Mind you that he did this during the Sunday service, in front of everyone, in front of everyone’s parents and grandparents and school teachers and blah blah blah, and I didn’t really care because I was leaving.

My mother was sitting next to me and she turned to me as the music started playing for young people to wander up and she told me that I didn’t have to go up there because she thought that was just stupid.
My mother knew the person I was, the envelop pusher, the non-smoking anti-drug virgin who had a little wine cooler with her parents on special occassions.  My mom wanted me to protest by staying in my pew.

*sigh*

I’d like to say that’s what I did.

In the end.  My mother and I both bent to peer pressure.  I was the last person to walk down that aisle to the front, but I was the only one who didn’t open my mouth to recite anything at the front when the Pastor made the Youth recite the commitment pledge.

Mind you, I’m probably the only one who didn’t succumb in excess at some point to one of those four deadly sins that Pastor was so afraid of as here I am at 35 and I neither smoke nor drink and I’ve never done any illegal drugs and I’m the world’s oldest virgin but I know at least a few of those on that stage that Sunday who’ve had shotgun weddings, one has come out of the closet, and two have lived in sin before marrying different girls…Maybe those commitment pledge things put too much pressure on young folks?  Maybe it puts ideas in their heads?
Anyway, I think from that day forward that Pastor thought he was fighting the Devil for my soul.  Every Sunday I came home from college, he changed his sermon to something about the evils of alcohol.  Even my mom noticed.  If he’d only asked, I would have told him that alcoholism runs in my family, which is why I have no real interest in pursuing a lifestyle of clubhopping and blackouts.  *shrug*  I don’t need a pledge for that.

tags: Faith

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