Vacation Bible School

I didn't know much about Jesus in the early years. The only pictures I'd ever seen of him were a little plaque my mom had gotten in grade school, and a giant painting replica of Jesus in Gethsemane in the Aaronsburg Library, which had originally been a church. I insisted Gethsemane Jesus was actually named "Harry," and in a small way, still do. Although my mom had given me a vague rundown on religion from an Anglican viewpoint, we never went to church until years later. In the Valley, the primary denominations were Methodist, Lutheran, and Reformed (with a smattering of Jesus Jumpers scattered about here and there).

At some point, because I was so isolated as a kid, one of the villagers suggested to my mom that maybe a good way for me to learn how to socialize with the other kids was to attend Vacation Bible School. I suspect this might have had conversion undertones, as my parents' religious beliefs went suspiciously undefined, and the lady who told her about VBS probably had lofty dreams of moulding me into a wholesome Methodist.

Vacation Bible School was held as a day camp of sorts in Coburn. The 'classes' were in the old Coburn School, an amazing remnant of the 1920s that has since been razed for an ugly post office. Kids got to hang out, make crafts, do stuff with glitter, and learn about Jesus. The highlight of the day, other than getting glasses of Kool-Aid (no joke), was assembling in the church across the parking lot and watching a film. For the most part, we watched wholesome Lollipop Dragon movies.

I merrily took part in the craft making, which was probably making glitter crosses or god's eyes or some crap - I do remember a lot of coloring and I do remember scratch-and-sniff stickers, two things a five year old loves. But two incidents happened that ended my religious education at Bible School forever.

The first was the "I Will Obey" crown. About 15 of us kids were assembled at a large table. I do remember my mom being there. Someone made a paper crown, with the words "I WILL OBEY" scrawled on it in marker. The crown was passed from child to child, and we each dutifully put it on our heads, saying solemnly, "I WILL OBEY." I felt very smug, knowing I'd obey whatever it was I was supposed to obey. I didn't even know what the word "obey" meant.

The ride home that afternoon was weird. Mommy was angry. She said to me something like, "God, I can't believe they made you wear that thing. Look, that's creepy. Would you obey if some bad man told you to get in his van, or if someone tried to hurt you? You'd better not. Don't pay any attention to what happened today. The only people you need to obey right now are Mommy and Daddy."

Sage advice. But the FINAL kicker was the film we watched that WASN'T Lollipop Dragon. I don't remember a whole lot about the movie, because it was boring and probably about 20 years old then, but I do remember it was about the population of Brazil, showed the giant statue of Jesus overlooking Rio, and talked about how only 12% of the people there are true Christians.

Mom realized the creepy religious propaganda they were subjecting me to was anti-Papist, and, horrified, decided it was probably best to just quietly let me forget about my new Methodist brainwashing and focus on something truly wholesome.