The wicked and terrible art of faking it

Don't start - just say no - don't do it.

"f you could not be made to believe

you had to know how to make believe

well enough to make them believe

you were a believer."

From "Outside the Lines" by tj jude

Mr. tj is a writer of great renown.  He hits the nail on the head and takes no prisoners.  I wish I possessed those traits but instead, I am a master of the falsity described above.  A truly fucked up venue created to stage my life, of which I have contributed in perpetuity. 

When I was a child, I watched as the people went down to the front of the church to get saved.  At a certain age, we were expected to do that and I watched as some of the kids I knew did that and got baptized and saved.  When the people went forward, the preacher and some of the higher-ups in the church would put their hands on their heads and pray with them - over them - and when it was done, the people would always be crying, falling onto their knees and raising their arms up saying "praise Jesus" and "praise the lord," etc., and the preacher would also be doing the same.  They would pray for the holy ghost to fill them, and their crying and falling apart and raising their hands and screaming was proof that the holy spirit had indeed entered them and they were saved.  Everyone in the church would go up and congratulate them on being saved, and lots of people would be crying and hugging each other.  Then they would be set up for baptism within the next few weeks and the baptisms would happen after a particular Sunday church service about once a month for all the people who got saved that month. 

I watched that happen for quite a while before I felt like it was expected of me to go down to the front of the church when the preacher called out for whoever wanted to be saved.  When I went down to the front to be saved, none of those things happened to me.  I didn't feel anything.  I got baptized anyway, and I didn't feel anything after that, either.  A couple of years later, I went forward again, hoping to be filled with the holy spirit and saved since nothing happened the first time.  I got baptized again.  That was #2.  Both were in the same Southern Baptist church.  We moved to a different house and starting going to a different Southern Baptist church. After a while, I went down to the front of that church, hoping that I would experience what I saw everyone else experiencing, but it still didn't happen.  I got baptized again. 

When my girlfriend Michelle and I were in 7th grade, we decided to become Mormons so that we could marry the Osmond brothers.  Missionaries came out to my house once a week for some period of time - several months - and taught me and Michelle about the church.  We started going, and were put into a group by age.  At some point, all the new members were called to the front of the church to be saved and the same type of thing happened to them as at the two baptist churches.  Nothing happened to me once again, and I was baptized again.  That would have been baptism #4.

When I was in 8th grade, I started going to a Presbyterian church with a different girlfriend.  The people at her church were a little nicer than the baptists or mormons had been, and they allowed me play "Bridge Over Troubled Water" on the piano while someone else sang.  Once again, I went to the front of the church when the preacher called for people to be saved.  I still didn't feel anything - no holy spirit overtaking me.  I got baptized again - #5. 

When I was in 9th grade, I started going to a Jesus Freak meeting after school.  I started going to services held in the basement of a church in another part of town with other kids from the Jesus Freak meeting.  The people there spoke in tongues.  They were mostly hippies.  I went forward to have "laying on of hands" and people spoke in tongues over me in order to save me.  I still didn't feel anything.  I got baptized again. #6

The same group of people that went to the Jesus Freak church went to Youth for Christ.  They had what they called "lock-ins" where we would stay all night in the church.  During one of these, they showed a very graphic horror movie, showing in detail all the tortures the people were going to suffer who were left behind after the Rapture.  I got baptized again after that one.  I was absolutely scared shitless by that movie.  It was shown about 4 AM, after we had been up all night scarfing donuts, while people spoke in tongues and rolled on the floor.  #7

At some point, and I don't remember which one it was for sure, I became very afraid because I KNEW that what was happening to the other people who were being saved wasn't happening to me.  I was just as afraid that the people at the church would see that nothing was happening to me as I was afraid that for multiple reasons, I was not savable.  I had been taught in Sunday school that God keeps a record of all our sins on a chalkboard, and that the sins we thought about inside our head were exactly the same as sins we actually committed.  I was not able to control my thoughts.  I don't recall ever having any seriously evil thoughts, but since I was picked on and bullied by other kids my entire life, I probably did have thoughts that were bad towards them.  When the chalkboard got full, that was it for you.  I came to the conclusion that since I didn't start crying or fall on the floor or any of those other things that happened to people when the holy spirit overtook them, I figured that my chalkboard was full, primarily from my thoughts rather than anything I actually did.  But I was taught that thoughts were every bit as bad as actions. 

At some point, I started faking it.  When I went to the front of the church, I fell down and cried and screamed just like everyone else.  People from the church would come and congratulate me and pray over me, and I would get baptized again.  That happened several times - me faking it.  By the time I started faking it, I knew that my chalkboard was full and there was no hope for me and that was why I never felt the holy spirit overtake me - because my sins were too great for me to be saved, and I didn't want the other people at church to know how bad I was. 

Something I've learned in life as a result of those experiences is that once you start faking something, it can't happen for real.  The consequences of that have touched every aspect of my life.  Nothing is real and I feel nothing. 

Reviews

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

I had a long absence from the Cafe and have come by to see what you have been up to. This was the first work I came upon...it has 2016 on it so I see you've been writing.
I had to sit back in my chair and say "Wow" out loud, with a wide open mouth.
First, the quote is an amazing lead in to this honest, raw, and amazing expose of your experiences. There is such honesty in this...I know I am repeating honest, but it is what this piece screams. I'm struck by the fact that you stuck with this quest so long, going through your own self-doubt and dare I say "self-crucifixion" by yourself and within yourself. Feeling like a misfit is something I know well, growing up can be difficult enough without thinking that you are not redeemable because you do not fit into a certain group's idea of the expression of "saved". There are so many denominations and groups that even if you had gotten what they had gotten, you could have gone to another group who would think you were completely lost.
I find your last paragraph fascinating and all at once so sad. I hope that you are writing this from a retrospective place and that you have found your true expression in fearlessly being who and what you truly are. You will lose some people who don't like the real you, but you will reap precious friends who appreciate the realness of who you were created to be.
What a ramble your work has set me off to. I hope the spirit of what I say comes through to you. Even in the sadness of this, you and your work are appreciated and they speak.