Methodist coloring book
Archived from November 13, 2005
When I was in middle school I enjoyed listening to the dead milkmen and found extreme joy in the song Methodist coloring book, not so much as a cut on Methodists, but on the whole religious power structure.
Generally, I liked the Methodists.
The Methodist Church in my hometown really had a lot to offer the community. I remember quite well hanging out in its nursery. I really looked forward to my Methodist nursery afternoons because the nursery had a Dutch door - where you can open just half of the door at a time if you'd like. I've always been fascinated by Dutch doors and hidden beds. It had bunk beds built into the walls. And quite frankly it had the best toys of any nursery I'd ever experienced.
The Methodist Church had TONS of meetings in it. Of a night, you could have the quilt group meeting, an AA meeting and a cookie making team of senior citizens. Meanwhile the nursery was bustling with kids and there was probably some kind of tutoring program going on as well.
I attended an activity PACKED day camp there one summer. It was amazing. We learned how to tie-dye and make crepe paper rainbows and just a whole host of other things that I can't remember because I was in 5th grade and you have to let some things go. The Methodist church day camp was far superior to the one I went to at Utica Bible Baptist in 1st grade. That one was creepy. It was all about bringing sheep into the fold. The minister would take kids who brought a certain number of new people behind this curtain where apparently there was some kind of exciting prize that no one was allowed to see unless they'd brought new kids and were alone with the minister. Yeah, that sounds just as creepy as it was. We didn't even get to do crafts. We'd just get weird ribbons if we learned bible things or won races.
The Methodist Church was EXTREMELY well maintained. It had a beautiful grave yard and grounds. It was a reasonably sized building, without being intimidating. It was wheelchair accessible too. The Methodist Church members took care of their space and everyone had respect for it.
The Methodist Church had a sweet ass rec room with foosball and air hockey and bean bag chairs. It also had a sweet ass youth group, frequented by this kid named Richard who I had a MAJOR crush on pretty much all 4 years of high school. Actually, besides Richard, the youth group had tons of awesome kids in it.
The Methodist Church was home to much sexual experimentation by members and non-members alike. Unfortunately, I never got any action inside the walls of the Methodist church, but I know plenty of kids who did.
What I liked best about the Methodist Church was that they never locked their doors. To this day when I think about that it chokes me up. Yes, we had a number of beautiful, well maintained churches in my hometown, but the Methodist Church never locked its doors. It didn't have things stolen, it didn't have things vandalized. It acted as a haven for body and spirit. I found it extremely comforting that as a teenager, I could roam around my hometown in the middle of the night (as teenagers are wont to do) and know that there was always an open door, with warm sanctuary waiting for me inside.
I remember when I broke up with my first boyfriend, my sister and I walked the 2.5 miles from home to the Methodist church and we just hung out there, went to the bathroom, drank some water, and joked around. It was really nice.
When I started driving I would sometimes go for a drive and end up at the Methodist church at like 2am. I would play piano. It was wonderful to be able to play piano in the middle of the night and not worry about waking anyone up. I could play whatever I wanted and no one was there to judge it. I felt really safe there, in the night, in the dark.
When I think back on being 16 alone in a dark church in the middle of the night, and how I felt SAFE there, it pretty much blows my mind. Now a days I think "thank god I wasn't kidnapped, slaughtered and spread across a cornfield".
Part of me feels like the fact that the doors were always open is a secret and I shouldn't tell anyone because people will take advantage of it and destroy the space. Another part of me feels like everyone should know and celebrate it, and other churches should follow suit.
Isn't that the premise of Christianity; trusting your fellow man, providing him with sanctuary for faith, not just at the hours that are convenient for some. Isn't it the way of Christianity to reach out to all walks of life, no matter how downtrodden, and invite them all in to share their faith with each other or just with god? Christian churches, to my understanding, are not supposed to be members only social clubs, but instead community buildings, where people are welcome to come and worship together or separately.
Regardless of the nature of my belief system today, I found that in my hometown, churches were accepting places where the community came together. The expectation was not one of conversion, but one of acceptance. I am so glad that was my introductory experience with Christianity. When I think of all the intolerance and abuse that is done in the name of Jesus, it just makes me sick. Thanks to the support of the community I grew up in, I know that there are Christian crocuses under the snow of intolerant, oppressive religiosity.
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