Peter, the Preacher’s Kid, is back and he’s talking about his parents’ divorce. Which reminds him of his parents’ marriage. Which reminds him of that one time his dad was trying to make ends meet…
Flashback to fall ’94. My parents were young, realigning themselves as professionals after returning from years of missionary work in the South American jungles. They scrapped through my dad’s seminary bills (seminary = grad school + Jesus – weed) by working odd jobs, counting down the hours until the next WIC payout, and knocking on every wooden surface in sight.
His dad got a job offer from a local church and it came with some pretty sweet perks — insurance and paid education among them — but he turned it down.
The church, he said, had some doctrinal points he stood against too strongly to find common ground. Biggest was infant baptism, which, okay, he wouldn’t have to perform them, they’d just be in the building, but still. Really, he wouldn’t have to do anything he didn’t believe in and they didn’t expect him to, but, but, but they were wroooong! My mom’s favorite quote from the ensuing argument: “Do you expect me to stand before Christ in judgment and tell him I preached at a church that believed in amillenialism?”
Of all the things Jesus isn’t going to care about when he doesn’t meet you in Heaven, that’s gotta be one of the least relevant.
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