Indoctrinate the young: II.

I last posted the sad story of my young friend, whose parents, rather than taking him to a qualified and licensed child psychologist to help him work through his fears, took him to an astrological consultant. I am very angry about this because I went through something similar myself. When I was about seven years old, my mother found Jesus. She was saved, baptized in the Holy Spirit, and divorced by my father in quick succession. My parents' divorce was very difficult for me, as it is for most little people.

The changes in my life at the time of the divorce were extreme. My daddy left us. I was plunked into a private religious school and "dedicated to Christ" in a sweet little ceremony. I began spending most of my free time at church, in bible studies, Sunday school, revival meetings and youth group. I joined the Missionettes, a girls' club whose primary purpose is to "win" the souls of other little girls for Christ.

Our church was an offshoot of the Assemblies of God. At each of the (at least) three services I attended each week, I observed people speaking in tongues, slain in the spirit, uncontrollably laughing and weeping, and prophesying. Miraculous healings were commonplace. Frequently the mass hysteria exhibited during worship was facilitated by vigorous exercise, in the form of marching around the perimeter of the sanctuary to the point of exhaustion (in emulation of Joshua's siege of Jericho). Services lasted up to three hours. My mother and new stepfather reveled in them.

I was desperately unhappy, socially isolated in my new school (because of my strange flavor of Christianity), and I suffered from severe psychogenic stomach-aches. My doting father, an academic, watched me spiral into depression and neuroticism. He tried to discuss my mental health with my mother, who explained to him that my problems were attributable to the fact that I had not yet worked out my relationship with Christ. The way custody laws worked then, his hands were tied.

It is a sad thing to deny a child appropriate psychological treatment, or even medical care. In my case, I can recall many instances where my infections and injuries were treated by the laying on of hands rather than conventional medical treatment. However, having lived through my childhood, I believe that the worst thing you can do to a child is to build up his irrational fears and thwart his critical thinking skills, and by extension, his ability to learn and grow and realize his full potential. This can be accomplished quickly and easily by physical and overt psychological abuse, or more insidiously, by religious or superstitious indoctrination. Such indoctrination is insidious because it is socially accepted; indeed, it is considered to be socially unacceptable by most people to not indoctrinate your children into your religious faith.

My childhood has caused me to live most of my life in fear of an angry and vengeful god. I was told first, at age 8, that I could not get into heaven unless I was saved. So I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior. But then I was told that if I was not baptized in the Holy Spirit then I wasn't truly saved. If I had received the baptism of the Holy Spirit, then I should exhibit one of the "gifts" of the spirit. I tried and tried, at age 8, to find my gift. Everyone around me could speak in tongues but I could not. I couldn't heal anyone. I couldn't prophesy. I became more and more terrified of going to hell. Groups of adults would gather around me in prayer, exhorting God to anoint me. Every day my mother or stepfather would say something about how I wasn't truly saved yet -- meaning, of course, that I was doomed. I did the only thing I could think of: I started speaking in tongues. It was obvious (and painfully embarrassing) to me that I was simply mimicking the glossolalia I heard around me. But the adults in my life were finally satisfied and I didn't have to endure the prayer sessions any more.

It wasn't over. Even possessing the gift of tongues, there was still much more to fear. Religious tracts published by Jack Chick and W.V. Grant, Sr. were stacked around my home like old newspapers. Through them I learned that playing cards were touched by Satan; an innocent game of hearts with my friends or a round of solitaire would make me vulnerable to demonic possession. My stepfather labeled my fascination with sunbathing as pagan sun worship: another innocent pasttime gave Satan control of my soul. I often heard reference to something called the "unforgivable sin," which, if committed, would result in an eternity spent in hell, saved or not. I never did figure out what that one was and no one could explain it to me, although I worried incessantly that I might commit it. Rock and roll? Satan's music. Prime time television? Evil... but maybe they were right about that one.

No matter what I did, death and hell were always just one mistake away. My fate was completely out of my control. Satan would find a way to get me if he wanted to. My only hope of salvation was to trust in Jesus and read my bible for guidance. But Satan lurked even in the pages of my bible. Why does the true and divine word of God relate two different creation stories? Why did God tell Noah to bring two of every beast onto the ark, but also tell him to bring seven pairs of every beast? Contradictions like these planted seeds of doubt and doubt was from Satan -- best to shun critical thinking altogether.

My young friend now believes the stars have dictated his future, and there is nothing he can do to improve his situation. I see little difference between what happened to me and what is happening to him right now. Religious or superstitious indoctrination cripples a young person's mind. It takes away a child's confidence that he can achieve things for himself and improve his condition, and leaves him fearful and helpless.

I eventually escaped the hell of my childhood, and I can only hope that he will too, someday.