Saturday, 14 March 2015

Chapter 9: Stuffies

I pastored my first church at the age of 10. The congregation met in my parents’ basement and consisted of about twelve members – a bear, snake, puppy, Cabbage Patch Kid, Monchhichi and a variety of other stuffed toys. As their pastor I would wear the white stole I received at my baptism, preach sermons and serve communion. I never baptized any of my stuffies, but if I would have it would have been by sprinkling and not immersion – as my only experience of church at this point was with the Lutherans. At times my parents would attend our services giving me a couple of live members.

One of the first sermons I delivered was based on my favorite record, the 1981 classic Antshillvania. In that message I explained how falling into sin was like getting tangled up in a spider’s web and that the more you struggled on your own the more entangled you got. “If you want be free,” I proclaimed, “You need someone to rescue you. You need someone who is free and not entangled in sin to come and cut you out. That person is Jesus Christ and you need to call on him to come and save you.” None of my stuffies came to the front and made commitments that afternoon, but I was starting to become a preacher.



I wasn’t as bold about my faith around my friends at school as I was with my teddy bears, that would come in High School. In fact, I’m not even sure where my faith was at this point. I believed, although I didn’t know of any alternatives to challenge my beliefs. A lot of what I was doing was play acting what I saw the ministers do on Sunday morning.

I’ve always been attracted to the stage and because of this I had little tolerance for boring preachers. One Sunday morning I was in church listening to a preacher drone on and on. I was sitting on a hard wooden bench drawing stick men on an offering envelope. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up on my wooden pew and shouted out for the congregation to hear, “This is so boring. When’s he gonna be done?” My dad was mortified. He grabbed me by the ear and dragged me down the center aisle and out into the car. He made me sit there for the rest of the service. I think he meant it as a punishment, but I felt like I had been rescued. Watching the cars drive by on the freeway was more interesting than what was going on inside that building. I’m sure there were many others in the service who wished they could have left and joined me. No one was going to force me to listen to insufferable preaching.

             I believe one of the reasons I became a preacher was to save people from horrible preaching. I still have a hard time sitting still when a speaker is unable to hold my attention. I’ve spent many conferences in a coffee shop reading a book rather than endure another terrible lecture of someone reading their PowerPoint slides in a monotone voice. I hold my own preaching to the same standard and would be the first to encourage anyone who is finds my preaching boring to walk out on me and go sit in their car and enjoy watching the traffic. If I’m that bad, I might even join you. 


What is the first time you remember playing what you now do as an occupation?

or


What is/was your favorite childhood stuffy? 

7 comments:

  1. I always liked the story of you preaching to your teddy bears! Thank you that your sermons were always interesting. Before we moved I checked out some churches out here and one pastor was so incredibly dry and boring we nixed that church right away! We've found a church with an interesting pastor...thank you for setting such high standards for us. Love and blessings to you and everyone at Bethany.

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    1. Thank-you for your encourging comments.

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  2. I used to play school with my younger brother when we were kids, probably starting when I was 7 or 8. Every Saturday I would make him sit at my little school desk and give him spelling tests and homework until he went and complained to our mom to set him free. I remember planning lessons in my head as a kid in case I became a teacher one day :)

    As for favourite stuffies, I never liked playing with dolls but I LOVED animals! I would take all the dolls out of my toy crib and put them on the floor and put all of my stuffed animals in the crib instead. I guess I take after C.S. Lewis that way - as a child I was always drawn to anthropomorphic animals over people. My favourites included little mouse dolls that my mom would make up stories about, a stuffed cat, and a little white bunny. When I was potty training I dropped Bunny in the toilet... whoops! My mom ran him through the wash and he was good as new, except that all his whiskers fell out. But hey, who am I to judge a poor little bunny who was once covered in pee? If anything, he was cuddlier without plastic whiskers. I actually still don't like dolls... they can be pretty creepy!

    In high school I also had a rather "eccentric" teacher who had a teddy bear collection (the nice grown up ones with movable limbs, not the cheap childish ones). Each day, she would bring her favourites to school (Berkley and Jack). They wore clothes (like, even watches and shoes) and she made them "talk" to us. She even takes them on vacation and they are in all her vacation photos. It was pretty insane, but an entertaining way to pass Art class. She was a great teacher and in grade 12 she gave me my own bears! They aren't toys but they are pretty cute and I still have them. It was a fun reminder of my favourite high school class.

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  3. I grew up in a place and a time when parents raised their daughters to be wives and mothers.
    Naturally then, my favourite toy as a child was a doll, an ugly little thing.
    Her head was made out of plaster and it was chipped in several places, that poor little doll looked as if it had escaped from a horror movie.
    But I loved her and I was a good mommy to her.

    When I became too old to play with dolls, my mom and I made her a beautiful dress, sat her on a little rocking chair and thus my doll became an ornament in my room.
    Now after so many years, the doll is a sweet memory.

    Please note that I said “a doll” not half a dozen Barbies as so many little girls nowadays seem to have.
    Barbies with their own plastic world including cars, houses and all the modern amenities that the Millennials have.

    I don’t have anything against Barbie (or the Millennials for that matter) but as a little girl I was the “mommy” of a baby doll, not the BFF (Best friends forever) of a stereotypical beauty that is put out there by the marketing companies to encourage consumerism.
    Oops! Did I say that I don’t have anything against Barbie?

    I am so glad that there are also toys that encourage imaginative play and allow the children to explore and grow at their own pace of development.
    Toys that enrich their play and let them understand that they can grow up to be anything they want to be, mommies, doctors, astronauts, etc.

    But I digress, my favorite toy was a doll and I played the role of mommy .In time I became a wife and a mother, although in a different world than the one I new growing up.

    In this new world the toys were many and so the opportunities for a girl to dream and to become (if that was her choice) a wife and mom and also to have a career outside the home.
    In this new world I raised my daughters, both are now married and moms of beautiful children and also both have carriers.

    I will end my disjointed little story by saying that in this new world I became an Early Childhood Educator although I never dreamt growing up that that I was going to be one.
    But coming to think all mothers are Educators and all the Educators are some what the parent in the classroom.

    Alicia

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    1. I remember playing with my Barbie as a kid and closing one eye and holding her up next to my mom to see if they were the same size. I was very shocked when I realized that poor Barbie's body type was closer to alien than to human! There are some great dolls out there now that resemble actual children much better than Barbies... I sympathize with your opinion of Barbie :)

      And you're right about teachers - we are legally "in loco parentis" in the classroom - we are the legal guardians of "our kids" while they are learning from us. I always thought that was pretty cool. It explains why so many teachers do refer to their students fondly as "their" kids.

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  4. My favourite companion growing up was a doll. Her name was Louise. My Aunt Val, had taken me shopping one day and said I could have one toy. I chose the biggest doll possible! And would not be swayed otherwise! It was probably almost as big as I was at the time.
    Louise went everywhere with me, much to my parents chagrin! She went camping, to the park, to Nova Scotia and even to the hospital when my brother was born! At the hospital a woman confronted my mother as she though that my mother had slung her baby over her shoulder by its arm.
    Louise has had many "surgeries" over the years. Including having to have her arms and legs reattached (multiple times) along with her head to her cloth body. She no longer has hair. I must have been 8 when my mother made the decision that her hair was to matted to save and we spent what feels like forever on the front stoop carefully removing her glued on wig, that's the same time she carefully stitched up several holes in her body and restuffed her.
    She may now be dirty, full of road rash and bald but she was my "baby". For the past 10 years Louise has been kept safe in my keepsakes box at my parents place. I don't think I'll ever be ready to part with her.
    -Lisa Hope

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  5. Your Aunt Val seems like an awesome aunt!

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