JESUS, GOD, AND ME

Blog number 115                                               Sep 04, 2007

Teresa and I went to Barnes and Noble this morning and one of the new books I saw was something entitled, "Religious Literacy," which sounded interesting to me so I looks inside and it seems to be talking about different people's understanding of the Bible, which from what I gather, the author isn't all that impressed with, overall.  For some reason what I read flashed me back to when I was a senior in High School.

I and four other students took Spanish from this rather rotund lady teacher that wouldn't shut up, running topics one after the other with discernible non sequitur.  Her voice stayed at the same high pitched tone for the fifty minutes the class lasted.  I don't remember her taking a breath.  I think she talked on the inward breath as well as on the outward one.  Drone drone drone.

The next year the only student she had was me, and I was there because I knew nobody else was going to take the class and I didn't want her to feel bad, like nobody wanted to be in her class, which happened to be true. 

I hated that class!

She was supposed to teach me Spanish but most of her talk centered on Journalism which she also taught, and poetry, which she adored.  One day she was talking about something and pertaining to a point she was making, she asked me what was the first story in the Bible.

Now, I was first baptized at the age of fourteen, had never been to a church, never looked at a religious book, and the only reason I was baptized then was that the minister of the Methodist church who came out to the farm to tell us my cousin had died in an automobile accident shamed my mother into agreeing to have us baptized.

I knew Jesus had something to do with God, but exactly what, I hadn't a clue nor a care.  I started going to young people's evening cinnamon toast and hot chocolate soirees hosted by the minister's hot young wife, and the family - well, my Mom and me and my siblings, even went to a service one Sunday, but that was the extent of my religious training up to the time my Spanish teacher asked me that question about the first story in the Bible.

The teacher kept after me to answer her.  "Come on - what's the first story in the Bible about?  How does it begin?" Frustration.  Now the real horror of being the only student in a class with a clueless drone set in.  No fellow student savior.  My answer was the only focus of her mind.

I knew something about the story of Christmas, the Three Wise Men and the manger separate from Santa Clause, so I took a stab.  "With the birth of Jesus?"  She never continued with the interrogation, and I thought I caught a look of intense pity, as if I was a poor cold hungry homeless orphan.  "Where is this child's parents?" I thought she thought.

Many years later I was talking to Teresa and Fred from the mountains about Jesus or Christianity or something and I at one time stated, "That's because you and Teresa were brought up with some knowledge of Christianity, but I wasn't." 

I was just stating a fact.  I thought I was just informing them of something which explained the problem - whatever it was, of which they were unaware.  But both of them immediately jumped on me as if I had fabricated what was obviously a lie.

They didn't or couldn't believe that a fellow California American had grown up totally ignorant of the Bible and Christianity. They were projecting their experiences onto me, as did that teacher.

I didn't argue the point with them because I knew that it was just so alien to them that they would think I was making things up in order to be right.

I kind of think that this is what that book is about - that a lot of people think that another lot of people know a lot about the Bible, but that it isn't true.  I ordered the book from the library, so I'll read it and find out, I guess.