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Most people grow up with roots in the religion of their
parents. Of course, some parents
change. Some people change as they
grow older. This change may be a
manner of conviction, of marriage harmony and, unfortunately, for reasons of
financial or political gain. For the most part, people are heir to a mainstream religion. Catholicism, Hebrew, Protestant, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhists. And there are divisions such as Presbyterians, Methodists and as many variations as you can count. Except for the few self started cults, the average person is in the main stream of religion. My parents were different. They were born to Southern Baptist families in Virginia.
Somewhere along the way my mother’s parents changed over to a different
concept of Protestantism. It was called
the Corinthian Church and was based on a more recent translation of the Greek of
the scriptures. They believed the
King James Bible had inaccuracies, and
their translation corrected these. The concept also was that the Old Testament was meant
for the Hebrews and the New Testament was for the gentiles.
The Torah used for the Jewish faith is, of course, the Old Testament.
My parents and this religion accepted Jesus as their Savior. Difference is they said Jesus died on the cross for man’s
sins against God, that the sins we now commit and must answer for are those
against our fellow man. My father often said that when you pray you don’t ask
God for anything. You just thank
Him for what you have. There was no ritual of baptism. “We believe in a baptism of the spirit,” my father said. Someone once asked my father if he were a Christian. He said, “No. I
believe in Christ. But a Christian
is a Christ-like person and I can never be that good.” Whether it was the religion or just my father, but I
never heard him speak ill or any man and I never heard any man speak ill of him. Church meetings were held in the second floor hall of a
fraternal order. Odd Fellows or
something like that, I think. They
called themselves saints as followers of Jesus’ teachings.
Different leaders of the group took turns conducting the services. There was an evangelist out of Johnson City, Tennessee,
who came as part of his circuit. His
name was Adlai Loudi, I believe. He
was a big, imposing man with a shock of silver hair and a golden voice.
His wife always accompanied him. Once
my father showed me a picture of Preacher Loudi as a young man, stripped to the
waist and wearing tights with a massive chest and muscles bulging.
He was reputedly one of the strongest men in America and worked his way
through college wrestling and posing for artists. That was a long time ago, because I was a child a long
time ago. My mother’s copy of the
Corinthian New Testament disappeared years ago in one of my many moves from one
newspaper job to another in a different city. A friend sent me a recent edition of a New Testament with the modern translations. It does not have the poetry of the King James version, but presents the theology in plain English. My trouble in reading it are the footnotes. They try to explain each point raised in the message. I had rather figure it out for myself. I'll understand it better. I guess you feel most comfortable in your first
religion. I know I used to walk out
through the woods on the farm and felt God walked with me and was my friend.
I talked to him. I still do. Now, well meaning people try to convert me to their way
of thinking. I appreciate the offers but I’m not looking for
anyone to convert me to his or her religion.
I respect everyone’s religion, or lack of, and feel that’s their
business. My religion is a deep,
private and personal thing to me. One of the wisest comments I ever heard on morality came
from an atheist friend: “If you hurt someone—yourself or anyone else, it’s
immoral.” I think that could cover most of the rules and laws set
up for people. Religion has separated man from barbarian, except when
it’s used to excesses by fanatics. Unfortunately,
unscrupulous politicians manipulate their church for personal use.
Too many wars are waged “in God’s name.” Seems like living a decent honorable life could very
well be more important than sitting in the first pew of a church on Sunday. What religion am I now? Does it really matter? I believe in God, and it doesn't matter to me if someone calls Him Jehovah or Allah or whatever term they wish to express that existence. I believe there are forces of good and forces of evil. I believe there is a concept of a heaven and a hell. The dogma and ritual don't mean much to me.
It should be up t each of us to worship in his or her own way--or not to
worship. After all, I like to think of God like the hub of a
wheel with religions forming the spokes reaching toward Him.
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