I know that it’s weird that I’m kneeling here, with my hands folded, praying to the Big Kahuna in the sky that I mock everyone in the old US of A for so staunchly believing in, but I was raised a Lutheran and you know what they say, when you pick a team, go with a winner. What I mean is, you seem like the best God, and though I wish Lutherans were a little less square and drank a little more, you never hear about the good Lutheran Reverend banging little altar boys between services. Well, at least not as much, but that’s better in my book.
I remember the first time I began to doubt that you were a thing, God. It was sixth grade during recess at one of your own Lutheran schools, which unlike the public kind have no black students and have teachers that jam their religion right into my science like some terrible tasting Reese’s peanut butter cup. Well, during that recess, I overheard Jenny Robinson, oh dear God Jenny Robinson, I still do not understand the changes that were happening to my body at that time. I overheard Jenny Robinson say, “I don’t believe in original sin.” I had no idea what she meant by “original,” like maybe the first person who watched porn on their SUV DVD player while driving is an example of what I was thinking she meant an original sin might be, and that was a pretty heavy thing for a person in sixth grade to say while playing H-O-R-S-E at recess anyway, so I just went ahead and assumed all sin was bullshit right there and then because Jenny Robinson.
Anywho, shortly after that I was confirmed in the Lutheran church because I lied to the pastor’s face. He was astonished at the personal integrity and spiritual insight of my answers to his questions, because let’s be honest with each other God, even at that age I didn’t have a reputation as a good boy. I guess lying is a strong word for not telling the truth. I just told him what he wanted to hear, which makes me a sociopath. I mean, the answers were pretty obvious and it was like the easiest test I had ever taken. There was no way I was answering honestly about religion and missing out on skiing with Jesus in Iowa and playing Donkey Kong in the youth room with my friends that I was forced to make by nature of attending a school with a small, homogeneous student body drawn from widely geographically dispersed families.
So, yeah, God, I basically rejected religion on the words of sixth grade girl who was Catholic. I’m not sure why she attended our Lutheran school, perhaps she was Satan tempting us, which would explain A LOT of things I was awkwardly feeling that I still haven’t quite figured out today. Well, buddy, I hope I can call you buddy now, this was a good talk, and I know I got away from my original point, but I was just hoping you’d entertain the idea of taking me back and letting me chat with you every now and again. In an imaginary friend sort of way, nothing weird.