Each summer we attended Vacation Bible School. We kept score. You received a point for attendance, a point for bringing your Bible, a point for bringing someone, a point for learning your verse…and so on. The final night, there was a big pile of prizes and the person with the highest points got to pick the first prize (invariably a white pseudo-leather Bible), the next highest took their turn and so on. The poor loser with one or two points was left getting a snake balloon animal.
In AWANA we got trophies and badges and pins for performing activities. We went to AWANA Olympics (like Special Olympics for Christians) where points were kept.
We went to Bible camp where each cabin competed against the other.
(The first time I ever went to Bible camp was when I was 12 or 13. Camp Barakel. No friends went with me. The only person I knew was my brother, who ended up being in a completely different camp, so I only saw him once during the whole week. Not having any friends, I was shunted to THAT cabin. The one for all the lonely, nerdy losers-- the prequel to Revenge of the Nerds.
We were the Black Donkeys. This meant a leather string tied around our neck with a plastic…black…donkey. Our camp counselor (still in college, but “adult” to us) pointed out on the first day that his cabin had won the camp championship every week so far, and he intended to keep up the tradition. God help him…
We played baseball. We sucked. We had swimming competitions. Many of us drowned. We played Basketball. The counselor wept. There wasn’t a competition we weren’t beaten, pummeled and skunked. By mid-week we couldn’t have won the championship if the rest of the camp caught chorea and the plague.
We broke our counselor. One night the camp director appeared and indicated he would be staying with us while the counselor got a few days rest. We didn’t know what happened, but in our 12-year old minds we suspected he had snapped. Carted off to the looney bin. As it turns out, he was able to return for the championship ceremony.
Turns out the big winners got….[drum roll please]….a watermelon. wow. Even we nerds realized that was pretty lame.
The very last day, our counselor took our donkeys back. Because these were leather strings, knotted, and immersed in water a few times—the only realistic way to get them off was to cut the leather. I still vividly remember the counselor’s face as he approached my neck with what looked like a 12 inch Bowie knife and all I could think was, “He’s gonna cut my throat for costing him his watermelon!”)
Getting older, we still kept score. We counted attendance. We counted offerings. We even counted cars in the parking lot! We kept track of building funds with thermometer posters.
But most importantly, we kept Moral Score.
Yeah…yeah…we talked and preached and teached about Christianity being different because it is the only religion in the world that did not require salvation by works—yet boy did we watch each other’s works. If you smoke or drank or didn’t attend church regularly enough…your score was knocked down. You weren’t earning points; they were probably even being deducted! But if you didn’t masturbate (even though you were tempted), or didn’t have sex (even though you were really tempted), or went to church or helped pick up after Sunday School—then you earned Moral Scores.
One never spoke of Moral Scores. This wasn’t said out loud. We simply gravitated to those with similar scores. If drinking alcohol didn’t deduct points—you hung out with people who drank alcohol. They couldn’t take points from you; you couldn’t from them.
We rarely spoke regarding heaven’s particulars (it would be gauche) but the general idea was that we were ALL getting in—some of us would have bigger mansions. Larger crowns. Better parking. Because our Moral Score was higher. We knew there would be judgment seat. That there would be cries of “Why didn’t we do better?” If you had a higher Moral Score, there would be less crying. Lower score—worse housing.
We knew Mother Theresa and Billy Graham were going to have HUGE houses—indoor pools and ambrosia fountains in the bedrooms. We didn’t plan to ascertain those Moral Scores. That guy who was saved at the last minute…well…he might not have a huge Moral Score, but he didn’t get any deductions either. Nice suburban house with a carport.
The fellow who cursed and swore and had extra-marital affairs? If he made it in…(what is heaven coming to if those riff-raff make it?)…the best he would get is a single-wide in Heaven’s trailer park. Really…it’s what he’s used to anyway, right?
The wonderful thing about being saved by Grace is that you don’t have to do anything to be saved. The terrible thing is that without keeping score—how do we know who is the better Christian?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Brilliant! Funny, the watermelon part. But I thought you can get plenty of points for masturbation though, as long as you punctually and voluntarily confess it to other. No?
ReplyDeleteEver read the Randy Alcorn novel which is some sort of take off on Pilgrim's Progress? I forget the title. The main character, on his journey, is supposed to pick up rocks and carry them around in his bag. But though he stays on the straight path, he is too lazy to collect as many rocks as the really zealous guy, who he scoffs at for carrying all these rocks around. But in the end, of course, the rock toting guy gets all the rewards when they meet Jesus, or whoever is standing in for Jesus in the novel. Because grace doesn't really motivate enough, you need your works to throw at the feet of your savior in heaven, so he will give you many crowns. Which you can then throw back at the feet of your savior. Or something like that?
"But I thought you can get plenty of points for masturbation though, as long as you punctually and voluntarily confess it to other. No?"
ReplyDeleteOh Jesus, NO! You never confess something like masturbation. Big sins like sexual stuff and murder will permanently relegate you to the ranks of second or third class Christian. You'll still make it into heaven (by the skin of your teeth), but you can forget teaching any Sunday school classes. You will be among the scrutinized.
Instead what you look for is the right sin to confess. Something that will demonstrate how humble you are (because you are practicing confession), yet something that is fairly common and has no real stigma attached to it. Something like "I got impatient when someone cheated me," is best because while it contains a sample of your own sin, it also employs someone else's sin that is much worse than yours.
There is status and pecking order in the church, just like there will be in heaven. It's kind of reverse. A good Christian on earth drives an economy car, in heaven he'll have a Jaguar.
Hi Paul, I was half joking, because confession of masturbation was taught and practiced at the church I attended, but I agree with you overall, and I am sure the confession was not practiced to the degree that sin was. Good point about looking for the right sin to confess to demonstrate humility -- confessing the right sin can cover a multitude of sins. :^)
ReplyDeleteOh Jesus, NO! You never confess something like masturbation. Big sins like sexual stuff and murder will permanently relegate you to the ranks of second or third class Christian. You'll still make it into heaven (by the skin of your teeth), but you can forget teaching any Sunday school classes. You will be among the scrutinized.
ReplyDeleteYeah! That's why you make sure you get an "accountability partner" to really discuss the big issues. The thing is, though, you usually have to pick your accountability partner out of a list of whoever happens to be in the room at the time. And chances are you don't trust or even much like that guy, so you still don't discuss the big stuff.
My last accountability partner is still one of my best friends, though. We pretty much accountabilitied each other right out of the church. We still occasionally jokingly introduce heavy topics by claiming we need accountability meetings.
Well, yeah, if churches didn't keep records of who is more holy than who, how would they pick elders, deacons, and board members?
ReplyDeleteBut hey, it is by grace, right? Everybody makes in. But if you don't want to compete, you make it in as a pew wiper.
Lorena