Among the dozen or so books I’d brought to class with me for reference was the King James Bible, the English translation traditionally favored by writers and poets. Was I breaking the law? I did my best to explain the difference between promulgating one particular religion and conducting an academic study of religion itself. One young woman raised her hand.
“Yes?”
“Are you a Christian?” she asked.
“No, I’m not,” I said. “My mother is Christian.”
“What are you?” she persisted.
“I’m a free thinker,” I said.
“But what do you believe?” she demanded.
“I seem to have hopes and questions where others have beliefs,” I confessed. “But I’m by nature a very curious man,” I hastened to add, “about the meaning of life especially, and I find the beliefs and disbeliefs of others absolutely fascinating. I do try always to be respectful of the beliefs of others and to keep an open mind. Thank you for caring enough to ask. Gosh, now that you’ve heard my answer, I hope you won’t think too badly of me.”
“Oh, no!” she exclaimed.
She smiled and shook her head to reassure me. But not all of my students felt that way. One morning after class had been dismissed a young woman lagged behind to speak with me in private. From her rhetorical questions and curt remarks during previous discussions I’d gathered that she held quite definite ideas on the subject of God, Jesus, and the Bible. When everyone else had gone, she stood up from her seat and looked me right in the eye.
“I feel sorry for you, Mr. Skank!” she declared. “I really do.”
“Oh?” I said. “Tell me. Why is that?”
“Because you’re not one of the 144, 000.”
“Forgive me,” I said, “but just what does that mean?”
“That’s the number of the righteous, the number to be saved at the Rapture, the number of the elect to be lifted up into heaven on the right hand of God almighty Jesus Christ!”
“Is that from the Bible?” I asked.
“Yes!” she exclaimed.
“What will become of me?” I inquired.
“You will be damned to hell, there to suffer its torments for all eternity,” she stated.
I contemplated my fate. My student watched. We were silent for more than several seconds, perhaps even for a minute or more. My student seemed to want to stare me down. I had no interest at all in confrontation. I averted my eyes and hung my head. I was enjoying this immensely. Finally she turned to go. I looked up and waved goodbye. She paused for just a moment at the door.
“I’m going to pray for you, Mr. Skank!” she promised.
“Thank you!” I said.
.......................................
WASTE to be continued
“Yes?”
“Are you a Christian?” she asked.
“No, I’m not,” I said. “My mother is Christian.”
“What are you?” she persisted.
“I’m a free thinker,” I said.
“But what do you believe?” she demanded.
“I seem to have hopes and questions where others have beliefs,” I confessed. “But I’m by nature a very curious man,” I hastened to add, “about the meaning of life especially, and I find the beliefs and disbeliefs of others absolutely fascinating. I do try always to be respectful of the beliefs of others and to keep an open mind. Thank you for caring enough to ask. Gosh, now that you’ve heard my answer, I hope you won’t think too badly of me.”
“Oh, no!” she exclaimed.
She smiled and shook her head to reassure me. But not all of my students felt that way. One morning after class had been dismissed a young woman lagged behind to speak with me in private. From her rhetorical questions and curt remarks during previous discussions I’d gathered that she held quite definite ideas on the subject of God, Jesus, and the Bible. When everyone else had gone, she stood up from her seat and looked me right in the eye.
“I feel sorry for you, Mr. Skank!” she declared. “I really do.”
“Oh?” I said. “Tell me. Why is that?”
“Because you’re not one of the 144, 000.”
“Forgive me,” I said, “but just what does that mean?”
“That’s the number of the righteous, the number to be saved at the Rapture, the number of the elect to be lifted up into heaven on the right hand of God almighty Jesus Christ!”
“Is that from the Bible?” I asked.
“Yes!” she exclaimed.
“What will become of me?” I inquired.
“You will be damned to hell, there to suffer its torments for all eternity,” she stated.
I contemplated my fate. My student watched. We were silent for more than several seconds, perhaps even for a minute or more. My student seemed to want to stare me down. I had no interest at all in confrontation. I averted my eyes and hung my head. I was enjoying this immensely. Finally she turned to go. I looked up and waved goodbye. She paused for just a moment at the door.
“I’m going to pray for you, Mr. Skank!” she promised.
“Thank you!” I said.
.......................................
WASTE to be continued
