WTF memories of religion when I was a kid. What are yours?

[Lady Grass Lake]

I’m sure a lot of you have had your own WTF moments when you were growing up. I thought it would be fun to ask everyone for their favorite, or not so favorite stories or misconception about God, and religion.

I was raised Roman Catholic - Polish Catholic in the 50’s and 60’s to be precise. We were too poor to attend Catholic schools since there we 6 of us kids, so I was forced to attend church and after school catechism for years by a mother who refused to attend church after the Latin Mass was discontinued. I don’t remember my father ever saying a single thing about God or religion unless it was referenced in a curse. I tell people stories of some of the things I experienced and heard and most of the time I get WFT?

I remember sitting in church in sweltering heat with a winter knitted hat on my head, because women had to keep their head covered in church and out those were the only type of hats we had. It was sweat or go to HELL.

I remember eating Meat on a Friday - back then every Friday was meatless - then being terrified that I was doomed to a eternity in Hell for having a single hot dog.

My grandfather was in WWI in France and was gassed with Mustard gas in the trenches. He was not a very pleasant man and treated my Grandmother badly. Poor Grandma got pregnant by a traveling musician and was forced by her father to marry my grandfather because he made some kind of deal with Grandpa’s father, back then you did what you were told. I can remember after he died how the whole family prayed to get him out of Purgatory and into Heaven. Grandma paid for weekly masses in his name for the salvation of his soul and we all had to remember him in prayers daily. I always imagined him sitting in this dimly lit room on a backless bench with a counter over his head and every prayer or mass moved the counter until the magic number was reached and he was finally able to move into Heaven. Since Purgatory and Limbo are not longer discussed by the Catholic Church, I figure he's off that bench anyway.

I have not so fond memories of being terrified by confession. A Nun told us that if we were on the way to confession and intended to make our confession and got hit by a car and killed, God would know we meant to confess and we would be forgiven. That was my constant thought that this time I would confess every horrible imagined sin I'd committed just in case, then chickening out when I got in that dark booth. I stole a dime from my Mom’s purse once. I carried that guilt for several years vowing I’d confess and never doing it. I was good, I was going to do it NEXT TIME.

We got to go to confession as part of our weekly after school class, and before we into the church, we had to put our heads down on the desk and think about all of our sins while the sister went through the 10 commandments. I must have been having a bad week once, because I had this brilliant idea to write them down. She caught me and when I explained what I was doing I was smacked up side the head and told that if there were so many sins that I had to keep a list, I was doomed to Hell no matter what.

Some other gems I remember. “If you are going somewhere, and it’s an EMERGENCY and you are forced to sit on a boys lap because there is no other seat or same sex lap in the car, then you had to get a phone book, the thicker the batter, and put it on his lap and sit on the phone book.â€

Another time, when I was in Middle School, and the Priest was teaching a class on Creation vs Evolution, of course the only acceptable belief was Creation. I had been thinking and had another one of my brilliant ideas. I had it all figured out. I raised my hand and said “Okay, so God made Man in his Image, what if God looks like an Ape and we just got better looking over time?†The priest got behind my chair, grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard, screaming at me how horrible I was and how DARE I say God looked like an ape. My Dad got a kick out of my story, but my poor Mom was embarrassed as hell and I had to go apologize to him.

My own WTF moment happed long after I grew up and became a Christian. My uncle and aunt divorced after having 12 children. My Uncle remarried and was excommunicated. He had serious heart problems and while in the hospital, expressed a desire to have Catholic last rights when he died. His second wife went to the Catholic church he used to be a member of and asked if she could call a priest in if he passed or his passing was imminent. She was told absolutely not. Several days later she received a call from the priest. If she wanted to make a generous donation to the church in his name for at least $5000, the church could make a special exception and the priest would come to him and administer last rights. She promptly told him where he could shove his request for a donation. In an interesting twist, my uncle’s next roommate was a Baptist minister and he and my uncle had many long conversations on religion. My uncle decided that this man’s take on God and religion fit his needs and he died a born again Christian. I loved his funeral. Instead of the usual celebration and stories, this same minister at my Uncle’s request, delivered a sermon bordering on Fire and Brimstone, debunking myths and pretty stories and mentioning how some regions will make exceptions to the rules if there is enough money handed over. Most of the family was highly peeved off. I say it was one of the best funerals I’ve ever attended.

[salsa]

Wow. The WTF-ery is legion in your post - but I've gotta say that I LOVE that Baptist pastor.

My own is that our religious upbringing was that we were marginally churched because few churches were good enough for my mom. If it was a denomination she didn't know much about, we avoided it because they might handle snakes there. But the Catholic Church was bad. very, very bad. I was so jealous of my friends making their first communion and doing cool-sounding things at church.

So, we got the Church of Mom. It pretty much meant that being moral means not having sex, and that children owe it to their parents to be what their parents want them to be. It was simultaneously ultra-conservative (my mom still is a fan of Bob Jones University), while at the same time she encouraged me to wear mini skirts and go without a bra in order to attract boys' attention. I was to be a virginal flirt.

She loved the idea of BJU's bed-checks and rigid rules (especially when they were opposed to interracial dating, a stance they've since changed), but she herself would never be willing to follow them. I guess she was too good to need such regulation, but all the rest of the world needed them.

No Bible study in our house and no prayer, either, but by damn, we were supposed to be the right sort of Christians - not believing in the doctrine of the Trinity (but we weren't JW, either) because it was a "crazy Catholic belief."

My mom taught us the words to The Apostles' Creed and told us it was The Doxology. She taught us that the IHS initials seen on paraments (altar cloths) and carved into the altar table stood for "In Holy Sacrament."

My dad was silent on those issues.

My sister and I went to my cousins' church one Sunday (my mom and dad didn't come) and we heard a loud, raucous sermon about people being eternally tortured in the flames of hell and how they'd love to repent now, but it's too late. A heavy leaning on getting saved right now because you might die an unexpected death that afternoon and be sentenced to the same fate. I was crying because I wanted to be saved, but I knew my mom would be really mad - and use it against me every time she was mad at me. The hell I was more likely to live was more immediate than that I would live when I died, so I took my chances and didn't get saved.

You might have guessed that my mom is pretty narcissistic.

[Mela99]

Raised RC here, Italian RC. Mom is first generation American

The two that stand out most in my head are -- getting slapped across the face for asking about sex (I couldn't have been more than four year old) aaaaand getting kicked out of Sunday school for asking too many questions.

They were teaching us about Daniel in the lion's den and I couldn't understand why Jesus wouldn't put the lions to sleep instead. I was an avid watcher of National Geographic specials and I remember how they always showed lions making the first kill shot on prey with their paws - and wouldn't it make the lions really, really angry at Daniel if they couldn't open their mouths? They still had claws, they could totally claw him to death.

Apparently I wouldn't shut up about it and it was 'suggested' I was not enjoying myself.

It should surprise no one I grew up to be a lawyer.

[ladyamylynn]

I remember having a pint-sized panic attack in the parking lot of the post office when I was maybe 10? 11? All because my mom got stuck in a long line inside, and I was afraid the rapture had happened, and I had been left behind. Also getting incredibly nervous when I would see a really beautiful sunset because I was afraid that meant the second coming of Jesus and the end of the world. (When I would inevitably be sent to hell...) Hey guess what, Fundamentalist Christianity does horrible things to children's mental health, who knew? :angry-banghead:

[NotALoserLikeYou]

I remember having a pint-sized panic attack in the parking lot of the post office when I was maybe 10? 11? All because my mom got stuck in a long line inside, and I was afraid the rapture had happened, and I had been left behind. Also getting incredibly nervous when I would see a really beautiful sunset because I was afraid that meant the second coming of Jesus and the end of the world. (When I would inevitably be sent to hell...) Hey guess what, Fundamentalist Christianity does horrible things to children's mental health, who knew? :angry-banghead:

That is so common. The rapture/hell is terrifying to think about! Once there were weird lights in the sky and my mom said, well there will be wonders in the sky before the rapture.

But my favorite thing she said, that fucked me up the most, is: "the bible says 'honor your father and mother and your days on the earth will be long' and you don't honor me. Your cousin didn't honor her mother and she got a brain tumor and died young" she kept reinforcing this, that I was going to die if I didn't worship her. Talk about manipulative.

[Phoenix]

Wow, these posts are bringing back some memories! I really struggled with the honor thy mother and father commandment. It simply wasn't safe to tell them the truth very often. Finally I had a heart-to-heart talk with a Jesuit priest in college about my conflict between being endlessly verbally and emotionally abused vs. always telling my parents the truth about things that were not actually sins but would get me in hot water anyway... but was I sinning by not mentioning the non-sins that would get me screamed at for hours at a time? That marvelous priest finally said, "You are not sinning. Respect and honor must be earned, it isn't granted by biology. You are not breaking a commandment you are surviving."

Sometime in Catholic school in junior high the pastor of the church we all attended connected to the school pulled the girls and boys into group talks separately. I don't know what he told the boys but the girls were told not to wear lipstick, not to kiss boys as it could lead to other more serious things and not to talk on the phone with boys too much. I distinctly remember thinking, "This guy is crazy." Not taking making out too far was not such bad advice for girls who were expected to be virgins on their wedding nights, but kissing seemed pretty low key even then. Then don't wear lipstick or talk to boys too much? Yeah right. I didn't wear makeup to school but it was expected for special events and I had to wear stage makeup for performances... even the boys because white kids under stage lights look like ghosts.

Fast forward to my junior year of high school when I was in confirmation classes. I was attending a Catholic high school but it was not affiliated with the parish school I was in for junior high. The mandatory weekend long confirmation retreat was held the same weekend as my junior prom. I had a cute date lined up and was looking forward to the dance. I asked for two hours of leeway which would have allowed me to attend both the confirmation retreat and the dance. I was told no, hauranged about how the devil was tempting me and I had to choose between "the world"/devil and god/my confirmation retreat. I tried to point out I was asking for only two hours leeway. Oh no, the content of the retreat was so vital I couldn't miss even two hours.

I had to cancel my date who being Jewish did not remotely understand why and then found out while sitting in the retreat listening to the same priest who lectured about kissing and lipstick reading for two days from a SCRIPT that a male member of my confirmation class had been allowed to arrive two hours late because he had a band commitment with the local public high school that Saturday night. I was flipping furious! I think that was the beginning of the end of being Catholic for me. The devil didn't have jack shit to do with me missing my junior prom.

About 15 years later my Mom was dying horribly of cancer. I called the pastor of my childhood parish. Different priest this time. I had a couple questions about the doctrines around last rites. The priest was impatient, snapped out an answer and then said he had to go because he had company and hung up on me. In talking with some family friends about it a few weeks later at the hospital they snorted and said he was likely playing bridge with his buddies. When Mom died the same priest made us wait to have the funeral to accommodate his weekend plans. Then he slighted the concelebrant priest we asked to have involved on the altar at Mom's funeral mass. The one who came to the hospital many times and gave Mom last rites a few scant hours before her death. Unlike the pastor who bothered to visit once or maybe twice in a stretch of months.

This was the same jackass who when assigned to the parish told his flock he NEEDED HIS OWN HOUSE. The parish was founded in the early 1960's and had a solid and comfortable rectory all of the previous priests had been content to live in. I could have understood why a priest might have wanted to renovate by the 1990's but no this jerk had the parish buy him his own home on the same block as the church so he would have a close walking commute to work.

Later he had to retire due to being a diabetic. Ran into into him at a local drug store. There was some question about the sale price on an item I was buying so I asked the clerk about it. She was kind enough to go check the shelf price against what her computer was telling her and make the adjustment. The store was busy and the same priest was fucking furious at me for holding up one of the checkout lines. Note, not the line he was waiting in, so I didn't extend his wait time. Turned brick red in the face and glared at me for five minutes straight.... Karma's a bitch and I got to watch it happen to him. :dance:

Edited twice for clarity.

[formergothardite]

Just being told from the time I was tiny that I was a wicked sinner heading to burn in hell is pretty WTF. I spent so much time as a small child worrying that I wasn't really saved and that I would either die or the Rapture would happen and I would be left behind. I can't imagine telling my kids that they deserve and eternity of torture if they don't love God, but that was the norm when I was growing up.

[Sumeri]

I got off pretty easy from a born again, fundie perspective, but my religious training was still pretty WTF.

My mother became a Catholic when she married my father, and her family (Church of England) was so appalled that they cut off contact with her for years. Once kids started coming along they lightened up, but only on the condition that none of us were to be baptized. So she went along with that, but still insisted on RAISING us Catholic, which of course none of us were.

Somehow, she was able to find a hip, very handsome priest who let us go to CCD, but obviously we couldn't participate in any of the sacraments because WE WEREN'T CATHOLIC. So many years of learning about a religion that would send our poor tortured souls to purgatory for all of eternity, punctuated with cookies and juice and cute drawings. We went to a Catholic church, too. It was very strange. A friend of mine, who was Greek Orthodox, "baptized" me one day in 4th grade with a bottle of holy water they had lying around and figured that was good enough, and so I lived with the dual realization that even though technically my soul was saved it wasn't REALLY, because who knew what those Greeks believed? :lol:

Eventually our cute priest ran off with a cute nun. And my brother was married in the Greek Orthodox church, so at least one of us finally found out what they do!

[polecat]

IFB childhood here ...

I somehow got it into my head that at the Great White Throne of Judgment, God would replay our entire lives on a giant mega-screen for everyone to see. I remember every time I did anything the least little bit wrong, I'd cringe in terror that all my friends, people in church, my parents, sister, total strangers ... would later get to see it and be shocked over it. I'd feel utterly humiliated even before I'd gotten the fun out of the sin. (And by sin, I mostly mean doing things my parents didn't approve of, like sneaking and watching "Silver Spoons" or "Facts of Life" -- not necessarily actual sins).

There was also the whole "playing outside during winter in Nebraska wearing only Godly Culottes while my legs slowly turned blue and white" thing.

I used to lie awake at night and fear hell. I really firmly believed I was going to hell no matter what I did because no matter how often I prayed, I never really felt different. So then when people would talk about how Jesus was coming back any day, I'd feel this icy sinking feeling thinking about how I'd get left behind while my whole family and everyone I knew was taken. For a while, people were "predicting" that he'd come back in 1984, and so the entire freaking year, I'd wake up in the morning and quietly tiptoe around the house checking to make sure my family was still there.

Fundies really mess kids up.

[violynn]

My Aunt Sarah came and got me for SS and church every Sunday because my dad (her brother) and mom didn't attend, and A.Sarah was worried I would go to hell if I weren't saved. I was 9. Old Fashioned Missionary Baptists are the long aloud prayin' bunch, the entire church, mind. No one had any qualms for jumping up in the middle of the preacher's sermon because God had led them to testify at that exact moment. Fire and brimstone threats shouted loudly were pretty much the norm as well. The entire thing was WTF, really, between people being led to sing at any moment, folks getting up and finding a sinner who wasn't saved yet and kneeling down to pray for their soul, aloud again. The whole church got up and shook hands with each other, not the 'turn to your left, right, front and behind you' type of hand-shaking. Everyone exited their pews and walked up to the front and shook with *everyone*.

But the worst, most long-lasting WTF is when preacher was wound up one day and told us that Jesus was always watching, but we must be very careful to avoid sin because when Jesus came down for the Rapture, He would catch us doing whatever we were up to atm. Fornicating? Gambling, adultery, beating your wife, cheating on your taxes, taking a 'long' shower during your teenage years? Jesus would bust you!

I was in my 30's before I finally got rid of the image of Jesus riding down on a cloud to give me whatfor when He landed in my bedroom while I was having sex, or in the bathroom while I was pooping.

:angry-banghead:

[Antimony]

My families stint into catholicism didn't last long but it did last long enough for me to be very confused about nuns.

I knew they were married to Jesus. That's how they explained it to me at least.

And I knew you had to consummate the marriage.

So I kept asking about why Jesus got to have sex with so many women and were they old women and did he think they were cute and would they be cute like Julie Andrews as Maria? And was he constantly busy in heaven consummating his marriages?? I had a lot of issues with this.

[polecat]

My Aunt Sarah came and got me for SS and church every Sunday because my dad (her brother) and mom didn't attend, and A.Sarah was worried I would go to hell if I weren't saved. I was 9. Old Fashioned Missionary Baptists are the long aloud prayin' bunch, the entire church, mind. No one had any qualms for jumping up in the middle of the preacher's sermon because God had led them to testify at that exact moment. Fire and brimstone threats shouted loudly were pretty much the norm as well. The entire thing was WTF, really, between people being led to sing at any moment, folks getting up and finding a sinner who wasn't saved yet and kneeling down to pray for their soul, aloud again. The whole church got up and shook hands with each other, not the 'turn to your left, right, front and behind you' type of hand-shaking. Everyone exited their pews and walked up to the front and shook with *everyone*.

But the worst, most long-lasting WTF is when preacher was wound up one day and told us that Jesus was always watching, but we must be very careful to avoid sin because when Jesus came down for the Rapture, He would catch us doing whatever we were up to atm. Fornicating? Gambling, adultery, beating your wife, cheating on your taxes, taking a 'long' shower during your teenage years? Jesus would bust you!

I was in my 30's before I finally got rid of the image of Jesus riding down on a cloud to give me whatfor when He landed in my bedroom while I was having sex, or in the bathroom while I was pooping.

:angry-banghead:

Oh man! One of my grandmas was missionary baptist, and when we'd go visit her, we'd have to go to church with her (which my mom HATED because missionary baptists weren't real Christians TM like IFBs were). And my grandma's church seemed so much more relaxed than the stuffy IFB services plus there was the excitement of never knowing who was going to burst out in tongues at any minute.

(I'm sorry they effed with your mind, but I love your Jesus-riding-a-cloud imagery!)

[chaotic life]

Both of my parents were raised secular and my dad was Jewish. While working on a PhD in Biochemistry and on his way to medical school, he decided he wanted embrace his identity and his Judaism as more than the open family secret.

Unfortunately, (as many here can likely already recognize) he connected with Jews for Jesus instead. Converted, took my Narcissistic mother (really, formally diagnosed by court order in the divorce) and hooked into The Jesus People movement. He walked out of his PhD program, turned down his medical school admission and headed for seminary. When the Methodist seminary in DC was too liberal for him, he went Anabaptist and redid his training at Eastern Mennonite Seminary (now University). Meanwhile, NPD mommy discovered, as all good Narcissists do, that religion is a perfect place where they can thrive and rule the world and the more conservative the better it is for Their purposes.

At to that mix that at some point my parents signed up to be stateside missionaries (after first serving as missionaries in Latin America) and took us all to the hollows of Eastern KY. Oh, and for most of my childhood my Dad was the Emmaus director where we lived. I think I may be the only one of the first batch of kids and parents who did NOT do at least one Walk to Emmaus.

So, my religious experiences are eclectic and pretty out there.

Amongst them, probably my biggest WTF was the time we were at a revival of some sort, several days of praying and healing and crap. I got an ear infection, something rather common for me. My mother didn't want to try to find medical care and it was before Urgent Centers existed. Several people said there was a doctor in attendance who would see me, but never underestimate the need of a NPD mother to kill her kids' illness for all the attention she can get.

Mine spent the entire day telling everyone that *I* didn't want to see the doctor because I wanted to go forward at the prayer meting that night.

Um, I wanted the horrific pain to stop and to be able to hear again, but everyone was amazed at the incredible faith of the 7 ish child and wonderful it was that she was honoring it.

She threatened punishment if I didn't go up that night. So I got prayed over, anointed with oil and "healed." Then, my ear drum burst as usual and at least the pain got better even if the hearing had the underwater qualify again for two months (not my first or second round of medical issues with a crazy NPD mom who used religion to take her abuse and neglect to the next level).

[chaotic life]

At some point in my childhood, my maternal grandparents became Christian as well. However, until my grandfather died they were fairly sane, inclusive, garden variety Presbyterians.

After my grandfather died, two things happened. My grandmother was diagnosed with normal pressure hydrocephalus and refused a shunt because it would prohibit her from flying, and she hooked back up in relationship with my NPD mother, who after the affairs and the ugly, nasty divorce became SDA where she gets lots of accolades and attention for her piety now.

Now, twice a week I get FB updates about my grandmother's "ministry" she runs from my mother's home and my mother encourages. Twice a week she skypes a church in Pakistan and holds healing sessions because she is certain she has been blessed with the gift of healing and all she needs to do is pray and everyone is better again.

The ministry is going SO well....she's helping the Pakistani pastor raise money to put a second floor on the church because the current building doesn't hold everyone who wants to come have my grandmother heal them.

She's traveled all over the world, but she's never been to Pakistan and she's never met this pastor in person, but don't let THAT be your stumbling block to faith in any way!

[DefraudingArkansas]

I was fortunate to have been raised in a secular home. None of the adults in my family ever claimed to be atheists, but we didn't go to church and my mother was hesitant to allow my sister and I to go to church with our friends.

I took dance lessons for most of my childhood at a dance company that was somewhat religious. Most of my dance friends came from very religious homes and a few were even homeschooled. I remember discussing religion and "being saved" with my dance friends when I was maybe 7 or 8 and being informed by my friends that I was going to hell because I wasn't saved. I was told my situation was further complicated by the fact that I didn't know what denomination I was.

Terrified, I ran to my mother to ask what denomination we were, and why she hadn't cared to tell me I was doomed to hell if I didn't get saved. She calmly told me that if I always did what felt like the right thing that I shouldn't worry about hell. To answer my inquiry on our denomination, she said, "oh, just say we're Methodists."

[WhiteRun]

So this happened when I was a young teenager but it still left religion as a bad taste in my mouth.

My little sister became friends with a girl at primary school who was very religious. She had something like 9 or 10 siblings and they were all very conservative. Anyway the more my sister hung out with this girl and her family, the more she started developing their habits. She'd start saying grace at dinner, refuse to use the word hell and even started going to the church youth group.

The worst part was having to pick her up because that church gave me the creeps. It reminded me of the church in Red State (awesome movie about how backwards religion can be and I believe loosely based on the Westboro Baptist Church) and everyone inside would try to get me to stay and join the church. They also weren't particularly happy when I went in one night in a pair of short shorts.

Anyway, thankfully we managed to convince my sister to stop going to the youth group and she and her friend stopped spending so much time together.

[dognshake]

southern baptist here.

that whole rapture thing was terrifying as a kid. I was mostly afraid it was going to happen right before Christmas and I wouldn't get my new toys. priorities...right?

Taking a purity pledge while in middle school. We had to go to the front of the church- in front of the whole congregation- and pledge to not do the dirty until marriage. so weird looking back on it. they also talked about courting instead of dating.

literally burning- with fire- any non christian CD's we owned with my church youth group.

Not being allowed to read Harry Potter because it was supposedly about real magic. I would sneak the books in my house to read them. I eventually got caught so my Dad decided to read them himself to see if it was acceptable. He came to the conclusion that they were pretty much just science fiction and I was allowed to read them.

I have so many weird memories growing up about the church we went to. Oddly my Dad was not raised in a church at all and while my mom was she wasn't super into it. I'm not sure how they got so swept away in it all. The pastor was super charismatic and loud. He ended up screwing a lady in the choir and embezzling money from the church so he had to step down.

[Eighth-of-eleven]

WTF memories of religion...where do I start. I grew up R.C. kindergarten through 12th grade parochial school Irish nuns and priests in grade school, very conservative, but great progressive nuns and brothers (Holy Names, Marist and Dominicans) for high school.

The WTF was mostly at home and in the neighborhood and then my own choice to become involved in a Gothard fundamentalist church/community in my 20's.

WTF: crazy narcissistic mom told me when I was 14 that when she was pregnant with me she had 3 weeks of "visions" (she was a very "visionary"Catholic, totally into st. Theresa of avila, st, jude, etc) and so she felt that the visions either emanated from me, or were from God to her and passed through me in the womb and so I was her equal, like her spiritual "twin". Yeah...right...scared the shit outta me. I had no desire to be my mother's spiritual twin.

Our neighbors, several of them were assemblies of god and into the rapture and end of the world stuff and also believed that the pope was the anti Christ and so on..also that nuns and priests were having sex, having babies, killing them and burying them under the convent(WTF) as told by neighbor who all seemed to have a cousins who had an uncle who had a friend who had a friend who worked for a construction company who dismantled an old convent and "you know what they found buried under the convent??? Dead babies bodies!!!" WTF if they only knew the nuns and priests I knew...lol.

They would also give us little kids Chick tracts, anti Catholic chick tracts, charming...

[sparkles]

Growing up (50s & 60s) our immediate neighborhood, which was brand new, was heavily Jewish—but a very post-war, liberal, almost secular kind of Jewish. Most families, though, belonged to the conservative synagogue, since there was no reform temple nearby. My parents were very active, for purely social reasons since most families were 3-day-a-year Jews. I don't really recall much WTFery but I do know that I started questioning religion overall very early on. Finally, one day when I was 12 sitting Sunday religious school, I got up in the middle of class, told the rabbi it was all a bunch of hooey, I didn't believe in god and I walked out, never to return. My parents, surprisingly, didn't press the issue. Despite my atheism, I still identify as culturally Jewish though. There's no way around it.

One incident that still stays with me happened way back in 1st grade, just prior to Vatican II. I was friends with a girl named Brenda, who came from a large Catholic family. When I was invited to her house to play one day, one of the first questions her mother asked me was where I went to church. I answered that I was Jewish and she gave me a nice little smile and that was that. The following day though, Brenda same to school and told me she couldn't be friends with me anymore because I was a Christ killer. I remember starting to cry and saying that I hadn't killed anyone and I didn't know who Christ was. I totally didn't understand what I had done. The 'rents explained it to me later on with a great deal of sadness. Yeah, welcome to world of anti-Semitism.

[Hokie]

That God made the dinosaur fossils to confuse people.

That consensual sex is nearly as big a sin as murder.

That specific babies were waiting to be born to specific families. I used to tell my mom she needed to have another baby because there was an extra chair for our dining room table.

That the teens of my generation were super special and saved for the "last days".

That disabled people or still born babies had special spirits that were so good they didn't have to be tempted by Satan and just needed to come to Earth to get bodies so they could be resurrected to be perfect.

That God will answer prayers for you to find your keys, but not intervene to stop wars and natural disasters.

[church_of_dog]

I was raised in a secular but ethnically jewish home. Like someone said above, my parents were atheists but I'm not sure I ever heard them say the word out loud. We celebrated Christmas and Hannukah, but both with very little or no religious emphasis, almost entirely focusing on the rituals and traditions (chocolate gelt, etc). I remember Christmas gifts with a tag that said they were from "Santa Lastname" which was my grandma and grandpa on my dad's side. I remember being confused, if they were Jewish then why were they sending Christmas gifts and even moreso why were the signing the card "Santa"???? I was an adult before I understood the distinction between religious holidays and secular holidays, since all I ever saw was the secular advertising.

Then I also remember at some point attending a Sunday School. Now keep in mind this was the San Francisco Peninsula in the early '70s, so basically as post-hippy/pre-yuppy/progressive/politically correct as you can get. I don't recall but suspect that the sunday school I went to was UU -- if definitely wasn't Jewish and I can't imagine my parents interacting with any other kind of Christian church other than UU.

So, here's the specific memory. The room where Sunday School was held had a front door and then also a sliding glass door in the back that opened onto a patio area. One Sunday we noticed a dead bird on the patio, which had presumably flown into the window glass and died. Someone in the class (and it may well have been me, I honestly don't remember) asked the teacher "Did God make that bird die?" And the teacher's answer was...

...

...

"We don't talk about God here."

in Sunday School? :shock: :wtf:

As an adult I can understand, with some historical/cultural context, that in the early 70s on the Peninsula it was a rather extreme time of political correctness (which I don't mean to say in a negative way -- I mostly think it was and is a good thing). The point being, the Sunday School class didn't want to presume what parents were teaching their kids about God, so they apparently didn't talk about it in class because they didn't want to contradict what any kid might have been told by their parents. All well and good except that then -- what is the point of the Sunday School??? I don't remember anything else about what we were taught, but I can guess that it was all about behaving well and being honest, etc -- having "good" behaviors that are based on principles so generic as to not have the potential to conflict with anyone's home religion teachings.

All I know is I didn't go there very long and never did attend another churchy thing as a kid. (or as an adult since, unless you count weddings/funerals/kids performances etc of friends)

[Full enough quiver]

I grew up fairly conservative catholic. Skirts/dresses for girls, head covering, purity, etc. I remember one Sunday, I was 9, my siblings were 13, 11, 8, 6, and 3. It was March for life or something like that, and the priest was trying to get the congregation to go out and march, so he showed all these really gruesome pictures of aborted fetuses which now that I look back, were probably the propaganda ones they use. Anyway, they were extremely graphic. A lot of little kids, including all my younger siblings started crying. We had to leave because my sister was so freaked out. Didn't stop my parents from purchasing anti choice t shirts for themselves and us 3 oldest with a picture of an aborted fetus on it. Major wtf!

Another wtf moment was when I was 8. I got beaten with a belt because I painted all of our nails when we were at grandmas house. Apparently, nail polish for boys would lead them into homosexuality, and therefore, hell. The boys were 5. Nail polish for girls would lead us down "the slippery path into lust and fornication" and therefore, hell. My oldest sister was 12. I had to apologize to my siblings for "leading them astray" and go to confession, where the priest talked about the bible verse about it being better to tie a millstone to your neck and be drowned in the sea than lead little ones astray. All kinds of wtfery. The plus side was that since I figured I was hell bound anyway, I really began to question things, and ultimately became an atheist. I truly believe that strict religion like that is child abuse.

[Sobeknofret]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LaPorte_Church_of_Christ

I went to VBS here for two years. My parents yielded to the pleadings of my mother's co-worker's daughter that I be allowed to go with her (they were members of the church). :wtf:

[Eighth-of-eleven]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LaPorte_Church_of_Christ

I went to VBS here for two years. My parents yielded to the pleadings of my mother's co-worker's daughter that I be allowed to go with her (they were members of the church). :wtf:

Yikes!!!11!!omg and WTF. I've heard of British israelism, sick disgusting antisemitic bullshit wtf'ery, man,so sorry you we're exposed to that.

[keen23]

We were Roman Catholic until I was in 3rd or 4th grade. As my hometown was something like 80% Catholic, we all went to CCD after school at the local church. The year we left, my class was taught by an old Nun. She still believed in corporal punishment. When the Nun hit one of the kids in my class, I told my Mom. She told me that the next time it happened, I was allowed to get up, and walk right out of the building. Of course, the very next week, it happened again. So I got up, got my stuff and walked out. The Nun followed me, screaming at me. The woman who ran the CCD classes knew my Mom and took me into the office to wait for her to pick me up. When I was confronted by a Priest in the office, he told me I was lying about the Nun hitting my classmates. That was the last straw for my Mom, and she pulled us all out. Two weeks later she found the UCC church where she's been a happy member of the congregation since. It's a much better fit theologically for her anyways. She always had problems with the way women are treated as "less than" in the Catholic church.