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As I mentioned on another thread, I went with my boyfriend to a Youth Revival event at his black baptist church for two of the three days, a few weeks ago. Needless to say, it was a new experience.
I went the first day. It was rather uncomfortable for me. Not only do I have horrible social anxiety, but I was the only atheist there. Hell, I was the only WHITE PERSON there sweatdrop Everyone was friendly, they'd say hello to Christian and I (that's his name, lol @ the irony), and be on their way. I met his "second mother" and an older woman who'd wanted to meet me for some time.
On first entering the church, I was struck by the sheer size of the main room where they had their services. It was HUGE. And I couldn't help but think, "gee, maybe they could just give that money to a freakin' homeless shelter and practice what they preach."
We took our seats near the front, to my despair (putting an aspie at the front of a large group of unfamiliar people = BAD), around some other "young adults," as they called us. I had expected a youth group type of thing, but it ended up being like just another sermon.
For a few minutes, what must've been the youth choir sang. It was frustrating at how repetitive the songs were x_x And the whole thing about "giving Him my praise" just sounded so...blind to me. I've always cringed at the "shepherd and sheep" metaphors. But I didn't say anything; it's not smart to pick fights when you're outnumbered, no matter how right you are.
So that ended, and some words were said. Visitors were welcomed, and a prayer was said. Everyone but me bowed their head while the prayer was said. It was interesting, and isolating, to look around the church at all the lowered heads. And it was almost frustrating. They had proof right in front of them, especially in Leviticus 20, that showed the nasty side of their precious book. I remember they stood a few times during the service, but I stayed sitting.
A large woman, who got very into the music and such, introduced the guest speaker, a handsome young preacher from Richmond. He was an excellent speaker, no doubt about that. He knew enough pop culture to keep the kids' attention and make it entertaining and funny. I remember one girl was taking notes in her personal bible with an equally purple gelpen, next to one part that he spoke of. He said that god gave us a "hook-up," a "gift" that shouldn't be wasted. He compared it to keeping your first car in good condition and not wrecking that gift. He said a sentence or two about how Satan wants you to ignore and waste that "gift." I couldn't help but roll my eyes, but the majority was typical.
Everyone seemed so enthralled by his words, with the stereotypical "amen," "mmhm," and other calls one would expect. But I couldn't relate to that. I couldn't be excited with everyone else. I couldn't, and wouldn't, fake it. My boyfriend, my only anchor, held my hand the entire time. And if he wasn't there, I would've left and started crying. It was that lonesome.
Then the large woman from before came up and spoke at the end, asking the youth to stand up front of the pew as she "blessed" them. All the kids went up, except for Christian and me. However, his grandmother, who I do not like in the least, forced him to get up and tried to encourage me to join them. I politely declined. As much as I found what they were doing to be silly, it was very, VERY awkward and anxious to sit there by myself, knowing that everyone's eyes were at the front of the pulpit.
His young aunt gave me a ride home with Chris and his sister in the car. She asked what I thought, and I merely said I found it to be interesting. She then asked what church I went to, so I said that I didn't go to church, I wasn't religious. When she asked why I came in the first place, I said that I came because Chris asked me to come with him (he didn't even want to go, lol) and I liked studying religion. His aunt was more accepting that I thought; she has two religious tattoos for Carlin's sake xd
The next night, Chris called me to ask if I wanted to go. I was conflicted. The isolating I felt was extremely negative and depressing, but I didn't want to let him down. I ended up not going.
The third and last night, I went. We came in a little late, coming in the middle of a guest church's youth performances. Stepping, singing, etc. And I thought religious music couldn't get more repetitive. Then, the church's adult choir performed; again, the music was pretty, but repetitive.
On that day, I had a short tolerance fuse. I rolled my eyes a few times during the sermon, opened the bible to Leviticus to remind myself how unappealing it was, and made some jokes to Chris.
Same spiel as the first day, except the speaker was closer to wrapping up his sermon. His final note to the teens was that "you can't get into heaven without saving someone else," or something along those lines. Oh joy, I thought, proselytizing. Just what this world needs =_=;;
Then they asked everyone to get into groups, circles, with each of the major figures in the church. I was silently freaking out. The entire church was standing up, holding hands, and bowing their heads in prayer. Some were shaking a bit, and a few were crying. It was kinda scary, but the majority of people acted normally. I wanted to run out right there so I wouldn't have to feel so alone.
I clearly remember the large woman was very enthusiastic in blessing each member of her small group. And I half-expected her to come to me and try to get me to join them. But, thankfully, everyone left me alone.
Chris came to sit back down, and I scooted close to him, thankful it was almost over. Then, all of a sudden, his grandmother tapped me on the back. I had accidentally sat on his hand, and she told me very sternly that "that's not how we sit in church!" and promptly left. I started having a panic attack. I hate it when people touch me lightly when I don't expect it. It freaks me the crap out. And add to that the fact that this woman, who I didn't even know well, much less like, had admonished me for nothing! WTF.
The woman who Chris described as his second mother took me upstairs to get me away from the crowd. I was able to just cry and calm down. I explained to her what happened, and that I already felt isolated because I wasn't religious like everyone else. She was surprisingly sympathetic.
She had her godson with her, a cute little eight-month-old boy. And as I watched him play, I wished I could tell him something. I wanted to tell him to believe whatever he wanted, but don't exclude others. Don't treat others differently because they don't believe what you do. Don't use your beliefs as an excuse to be a jerk. And think for yourself, regardless of what you believe.
I went downstairs to meet up with Chris, still very shaken up. All I could do was lay my head on a table as he talked me through it. A few people showed concern, which I appreciated, but I couldn't help but pessimistically think that if they knew I was an atheist, they'd treat me like crap. I later calmed down as we walked to his house and waited for my mom to pick me up.
I talked with my parents that night, in tears, about how isolated I felt, about how much I wished I could have a place like that where I could feel included. But they helped me to realize something: if a place like that pushed out those who didn't believe what they did, even if it wasn't on purpose, it is NOT as good as it seems.
*phew* I thought this would be interesting to share ^_^
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