Setting: the kitchen. MOM is getting ready to go to the pre-evening-service prayer meeting. The sisters AELGIFU and LIADAN are looking for food.

MOM: (to LIADAN) Are you coming to the prayer meeting?

LIADAN: Nope! (enters pantry, stage left)

MOM: Why? (raised eyebrows, Knowing And Not Liking Glance)

LIADAN: 'Cause I don't want to.

MOM: (displeased) Well, make sure you meet us at church at six. (shift target) Aelgifu? Are you coming?

AELGIFU: No...

MOM: Why not?

AELGIFU: (shrugs, looking uncomfortable)

MOM: Is prayer not important to you? Do you not like prayer?

LIADAN: (exit pantry, enter kitchen) Mom! Way to guilt trip her!

MOM: (primly) Are you part of this conversation?

LIADAN: Geez. (exit kitchen, stage left)

MOM: (exit kitchen, stage right)

Setting: LIADAN's room.

AELGIFU: (enters) Can you braid my hair?

LIADAN: Sure.

AELGIFU sits on LIADAN's knees, which she is getting way too big for.

AELGIFU: Mom does that all the time.

LIADAN: I know, she does it to me too. I hate it.

AELGIFU: Me too.

LIADAN: You know that not liking church isn't the same thing as not liking God, right?

AELGIFU: Yeah.

LIADAN: Okay. Hair's done!

AELGIFU: Thank you! (bounds out of room)

--------

I still can't fucking believe she did that. It's not enough that she does it to me, now she has to do it to my little sister, whose reasons for not leaping at the chance to go to a pre-church service church service for after going to a church service in the morning have more to do with the fact that she's ten and it's usually rather boring?

Fuck that noise. I'm twenty-two and I can argue with her when she pulls that on me. It's not fair to lay that kind of warped shit on a ten-year-old.

Labels: family, religion

So I came out to my entire family at the dinner table last night.

As a heretic, I mean.

My mom had been told that the reason my graduation announcement wasn't going in the church bulletin was because I was not a member (we'll call my parent's church Terabil Presbyterian, for future reference). She and my dad had been under the impression that I had transferred my membership from the old church with the rest of the family. I reminded them that I was the only one that hadn't done so, and when told that my mom would just tell them to go ahead and sign me up, mentioned that I hadn't joined on purpose because I wouldn't have been able to sign the Westminster Confession of Faith due to not believing in predestination.

Given her boggled and defensive reaction to what's really a pretty dry piece of doctrine, I'd hate to think of what would have happened if I'd mentioned my various other reasons for not jumping on the Terabil Presbandwagon-- the fact that I don't believe in premillennial dispensationalism, their disavowal of women in any positions of authority outside the nursery and the kitchen, and oh yes, the fact that I hate going to church. After having Ephesians something or other quoted at me I just said "Look, the reason I disagree with you isn't because I haven't thought about it. Give me a little credit here."

I'm not even really going to get into it here because frankly, I don't think it's that big a deal. Suffice it to say that I think the entire predestination-versus-free-will is another example of "looking through a glass darkly," and I find it more beneficial to me personally to view things through an Arminianist lens.

My dad didn't really say anything. Which is amusing, considering he's a deacon and is oathbound to keep his family toeing the Christian line, if I recall his ordination correctly.

It's something that's happened before when we were out at a barbecue restaurant for Ignatius' birthday, and he was asking me what I thought about the current crop of presidential candidates. I was saying "Well, I like Obama's idealism, but I also like the fact that Edwards has a health care plan--"

"Ooooh, not EDWARDS!" quoth Mother. "He's a TRIAL LAWYER. He'll put doctors like your father out of business!"

"... anyway. I'm not sure what to think about Hillary, because--"

"Pfft! HILLARY! Don't you know that--"

"Hey Mom! How about not interrupting me."

Mom looks offended. "I was just participating!"

"Uh, no, you were being rude and talking over everything I tried to say. Are you going to let me finish a sentence now?"

There was this fascinating little bit here where I sat and stared at her, waiting for her to answer, and her face went through three distinct expressions. First, she sort of snickered at me, like there was no way I could really be serious. When I kept staring, she sniffed and looked around, like I couldn't possibly expect her to answer that question! And when I continued to stare, she got an angry expression, because I, the disrespectful child, was daring to disrespect her authority. And then, she just started to sulk, because you know, she HAD been interrupting me and I wasn't letting her get around it.

This is especially funny because she'd recently gotten angry at my dad for interrupting and ignoring HER when SHE tried to speak.

I'm just sayin' it would be nice to have my opinions respected once in a while, instead of being treated like everything I think is just belated teenage rebellion.

Labels: family, religion