I used to answer phones for the Billy Graham crusade. After watching his broadcast while eating a delicious supper, I and other volunteers would sit down at a phone booth and take calls. Those who called the number that flashed across the screen would speak to people from all over Canada and the US. Some spoke to me.

I really hated the formula we were supposed to follow. We had a strict script, so it was really more like reading someone a choose-your-own adventure story. If someone answered “yes” to “have you ever received Jesus as your Lord and Savior”  we had to turn to page 15 and read the next question. After we had followed the book where it led us, it always ended in a prayer with the caller repeating what we read. The Graham people kept things tightly controlled.

I liked to go off script. First of all, most of the callers didn’t fit the tiny mold they were supposed to. Most of them weren’t calling because this was the first time they’d heard evangelical Christianity thrown at them. Nor were most of them ‘backslidden Christians’ repenting of their lukewarm ways. Most of them were just regular people with regular people problems. Instead of reading the book at them, I liked to listen to their stories, tell them they weren’t alone, and suggest other places they might go to next. I preferred if their first language was Spanish so we could talk without the supervisor checking how I was doing.

Many of my callers were lonely and just wanted someone to hear their problem and pray with them. Some were struggling with depression and beginning to reach out for help. Some had lost loved ones, homes, or jobs. Some were confessing things they regretted and needed someone to affirm they could change. After talking with them, I really felt I had helped.

There were people who called who wanted miracles like bringing someone back to life. I felt it my duty to counteract the rash things Billy had said to them minutes before. Like how faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains and exhorting people to demand miracles and expect them. What could I say though but that ‘God works in mysterious ways’ and sometimes chooses not to answer prayers? Especially with a supervisor walking around.

At the end of the night, we had to hand in our paperwork. Each person who called had their own sheet with their address and contact info and boxes ticked off as to what pages we read to them and what prayers they repeated. This went off to an official tally and someone would contact the churches closest to these people so they could contact them. We were to debrief, share hard stories, and of course, celebrate all the ‘saved souls’ we ‘brought into the fold’ that night.

I noticed a pattern. I had less and less ‘saved souls’, and more and more people who just needed someone to hear their story and encourage them to find a drop-in centre, new friends, or a good psychiatrist. I cared less and less about how many people rededicated their lives to Christ. I began to resent our script and the tally. I felt annoyed with my fellow phone operators who didn’t want to hear if my caller had depression but that they read the right prayer.

I kept going for a while because I found listening to people and encouraging them was rewarding. However, I began to feel that it was wrong of me to do that for an organization who only wanted me to read certain verses and prayers. By reading the Graham script, I felt that I was betraying the caller’s real needs, but by listening to the caller I felt I was deceiving the Graham organization.

Right now our Prime Minister is taking over our public broadcasting corporation.1 Eight of the eleven board members that run the CBC have donated to the Conservative party and I believe many of them are members of the Con party. 2,3

Our scientists are muzzled and cannot have interviews with media about their findings and being hindered from publishing.4.  Exorbitant amounts of public tax money are being used for a PR campaign in the US and other countries to promote the unsustainable expansion of the tar sands and tarnish dissenters, especially scientists. 5,6  There is also an extended campaign to overwrite our own self-image of peace-loving activists to militant soldiers.7 To make sure opposing ideas are silenced, even our librarians have been told not to share their opinions with people about the government in their own time.8  WTF?  

Harper is using boundary control.  He and many in the high ups of his government are from strict religious groups where boundary control of information is also common place.

In many religious groups, new converts are seen as especially vulnerable.  They must have their old ideas unfrozen, introduce the new ideas and then refreeze their thinking.  Until the refreezing has happened, they are often isolated.  Sometimes they are encouraged to not contact their families.  

When ‘the Spirit broke’ at the beginning of our church movement, there was a prophesy warning the people there not to contact friends and family.  Instead of seeing this as warning sign, they saw it as a sign from God about how special this was.  They became afraid of what people on the outside would say about what they were doing and so became afraid of people on the outside.

I think Harper is trying to run Canada like a religious cult.  He can’t scare us into not to talking to our friends and family, but he is trying to stop us from talking to scientists and making moves to control the country’s most listened to media station.  However, as Galanter points out, when a group gets aggressive with its boundary control, it often gets aggression targeted back at it.  

 1. http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/jamie-biggar/cbc-bill-c-60_b_3253621.html?utm_hp_ref=tw

2. http://www.channelcanada.com/canadian-channels/nets/cbc/conservative-broadcasting-corporation 

3. http://www.ipolitics.ca/2012/06/28/new-cbc-board-appointment-raises-questions-of-qualifications/

4. . http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2013/05/02/muzzling-science-canada-cuts_n_3187100.html

5. http://www.fortmcmurraytoday.com/2013/04/07/redford-makes-fourth-trip-to-washington-for-pipeline

6. http://ca.finance.yahoo.com/news/oliver-defensive-ends-oilsands-promotion-tour-europe-140922113.html

7. http://sgnews.ca/2012/06/20/warrior-nation-documents-militarization-of-canadian-history/

8. http://utlibrarians.wordpress.com/2013/03/20/muzzling-librarians-and-archivists-a-growing-trend-in-canada/

Me: You want me to draw you a picture of a mommy hugging a baby?

C-m: no! yeating!

Me: kissing?

C-m: no, yeating!

Me: eating?

C-m: yeah!  First the mommy eats the baby and then she kisses it!

Me: like this?

C-m: yeah, yeah!

I watched her paint blues and purples

C-m: they sleeping

Then she took brown and covered the baby 

C-m: now they is hiding

Me: from what?

C-m: from the nightmare!

Me: no kidding

A few days before the scheduled meeting I got a little nervous.  I had an atheist pastor of a secular church (intentional oxymoron) no longer able to come and be my token atheist.  I didn’t want to do this alone.

Thankfully, the day before the talk some awesome people I had only recently met said they could help me out.  I now had 3 people backing me up.  Although we barely knew each other, these three were willing to put themselves in a vulnerable position.

This Christian society’s website announced my talk as “Compassion for the Lost.”  Underneath was a picture of me and a short bio that emphasized all my missions involvements.  It looked like I was going to talk about witnessing to third world ‘lost’ peoples, which is pretty racist, along with being condescending to non-Christian faiths.  Not a great way to introduce a talk about respect for non-believers.

That was when I realized that the people I was speaking to would have no idea what they were about to hear.

The organizer didn’t even introduce my topic when he introduced me.

After I announced I’d be speaking about atheists, the room grew really still.  After I said that we had some “real live atheists” to talk to afterwards, everyone turned and stared at the three people they knew hadn’t been there before.  One person even got up and left.

My speech went quickly.  I talked about how I was qualified to speak from past experiences, went over definitions, and then talked about common myths and assumptions that hurt many Christian interactions with atheists.  There was a hand-out on how to discuss ideas honestly.  I talked about how we derail conversations with defensiveness and ways to counteract that (something I’m still learning, so any advice here is appreciated).  We ended with talking about some of the ways that atheists are mistreated and oppressed in our society.  That really got through to a lot of people.  Plus, a good sprinkling of bible verses.

Then it was question time and we all sat down in a circle.  At first there was silence.  Everyone looked scared, and they really were as they told us after.  Finally, one guy began to ask some of the questions I’d suggested they ask in my talk.

The three ‘token atheists’ were wonderful.  They were kind, well-spoken, and funny.  Even when one woman decided to try and witness to them, they were polite.  Most of the audience stayed for another 2 hours after to talk.  

For your listening pleasure, I present Life, the Universe and Everything Else #56 podcast where Rob, Richelle and Greg share their perspective on the night and the Atheist Agenda in general: http://lueepodcast.wordpress.com/

I have two cousins, who I thought of as almost the same person.  They are both intelligent, moody and easily angered, and large.  They’ve both been at least double my weight since I was little and still are.  Solid muscle.

I was terrified of them.  (Still am).  Another thing they had in common was the amount of racist garbage they threw at me.  To which I invariably reacted and would rush back at them saying that racism was mean and wrong.  

How they did this was different.

Karate kid’s favourite racist memes were complaining about immigrants and the First Nations people.  The irony of a descendant of colonizing immigrants complaining about these two groups never registered.  With his black hair and dark eyes, he sometimes had to deal with First Nations racism directed at him.  

He argued back with me, trying to say that he wasn’t saying racist things, just honest truth.  Then when I got really upset, he would turn the topic to how I was too sensitive.  Eventually, Karate kid learned to censor himself when I was around and all I heard were scornful things like “can’t say anything about that, you-know-who is too sensitive”.

Linebacker dude (he played football, but I don’t know which position) liked to make anti-Semitic comments and slurs about black people.  He didn’t pretend to argue but made ridiculous statement after ridiculous statement.  I remember feeling so frustrated, not only by what he said, but that his sisters never said anything to him about it.  (They have all dedicated their lives to working with marginalized peoples like those with disabilities and addictions.)

One day, when I was around 8 or 10, I ran into Linebacker and a friend and Linebacker made some particularly incendiary remarks about Jewish people.  I got really mad and said something about him and the Holocaust that apparently crossed the line.  Linebacker looked at me condescendingly and said “how stupid are you to think that about me?  My best friend is Jewish” and pointed to the guy beside him “and most of the rest of my friends are black”.

I had no idea his friend was Jewish and had never seen his other friends.  I had no idea he was only saying the things he did to make me upset for his own entertainment.  I was still in elementary school and was so scared of him that the few times we were in his city I did my best to ignore him.  At least he never said anything like that again.

I wish I could end this tale with how we all grew up and learned to laugh at ourselves and appreciate our differences.  Instead, my two cousins now avoid me.  Apparently I have offended them.  

This woman got through to me though.  She described the feeling of power, confidence and triumph.  That I understand!  It reminded me of a time I was playing basketball at a University gym.  I was the only girl there.  Half of the court was a group of 6 or 8 playing 3 on 3.  The other half was just me and a friend.  My friend was 6 foot 4 and pretty athletic.  I am not quite 5 foot 7 and my game plan is to run around, get in the way and wait for the other player to get too tired.  In other words, I am not so coordinated.

The boys on the other half of the court were finished and decided to watch us for a bit.  This gave us more room.  Instead of cheerleading, they decided to play Statler and Waldorf.  I’m a little sensitive to being made fun of for being female, especially when it was obvious these guy’s first language wasn’t English but they chose to speak it anyways.  I didn’t appreciate the comments.

“Next basket wins!” declared my friend.  He had been winning, I’m sure, so this was nice of him.  I had the ball but he pressed hard and I found myself being pushed backwards.  I was over the half court line, feinted to the side, stepped back, and threw.

Net!  Silence.  All the jokes about throwing like a girl died.  Yep, all those guys saw.  Even my guy friend was congratulating me on shutting them up.  Power, confidence and triumph!

If a pair of shoes can make someone feel like she sunk a basket from half court in front of a bunch of naysayers, I can understand why someone would want a closet full of them.   I take back all the snotty things I thought about a certain relative who has boxes of shoes.  And I’ve decided I need to start playing basketball again.

While I was never the type to hold posters of mutilated fetuses and scream ‘genocide’ and ‘murderer’ at classmates, I was involved with the anti-choicers.  I’ve listened to physicians describe the atrocities of abortion, but never mentioning that most abortions are performed before the fetus is very developed.  Much emotional anguish and anger was spent on late term abortions, but the fact that they almost never happen and only in very serious situations was never mentioned.

The rhetoric was of enemies, bloodshed and war.  Emotional appeals were made, calling on our compassion for ‘babies’.  Stories were told of botched abortions and the children who lived to be born.  After such sessions, I understand why people would scream.  

In contrast, the pro-choice protesters were calm and rational.  People brainstormed ways of creating safe spaces, minimizing trauma for others, protecting themselves, and how not to engage in outright conflict.  They set up peer counseling.  (Last year, a woman had a mental breakdown after being swarmed by the anti-choicers.)  They deflected the negative attention by doing positive things.  People played music and danced.  They blew bubbles.  They handed out ear plugs.

When hate mail arrived from the anti-choicers to the Women’s Centre, the discussion around it was not inflammatory.  The discussion was about effective communication and self-care.  Everyone decided not to respond.

How had I once thought these peaceful, cheerful anti-protesters were immoral?  Oh yeah, I didn’t talk to them and just assumed that if they didn’t want to stop the ‘genocide’ they were evil.  They were the enemy.  By contrast, the counter-protesters in this group didn’t view the others as enemies.  

I’m glad to know such wise and compassionate people, Christians and non-Christians.  I’m also wondering if the ear plugs would work in other situations

The bible study on controversial topics never met again.  It turns out, there weren’t enough Christians willing to look at those topics.  At least, not at that particular church.  The Christians I know that are willing to look honestly at the bible and moral issues don’t stay in conservative churches, if they stay in churches at all.

I am scheduled to speak to a Christian group later this month though.  If any of you have something to say on the topic of healthy friendships and conversations between Christians and atheists, I’d love your feedback!  I’d also love to hear reasons why any of you deconverted or are still Christian.  If you don’t feel comfortable leaving any of this in a comment, post an emoticon or something and I’ll email you.

We’re also talking about having the same discussion with my old church age cohort.  It appears some people are confused as to why someone would leave a church community that preaches absolute obedience to leaders, even if a person is harmed.  Or not understand why a woman would not want to wear a symbol of her inferiority on her head.  Or treat homosexuals in loving committed relationships as unworthy of belonging to the community.  And so on.  However, they are willing to talk about it!

While we followed the rituals from hand-washing with special soap, to eating eggs dunked in salt water, the reasons for each was read aloud.  In pirate.  While I loved that there was an orange on the seder plate for no reason except for a saying that says “a woman can be a rabbi when there is an orange on the seder plate”, it was the dipping of bitter greens in salt water that made me tear up.  A visceral reminder that finding justice for the oppressed requires even more tears and suffering.

The four questions that are asked every year about Passover were read and the story was told.  In pirate.

God was a sea monster.  The burning bush was talking seaweed, mistaken for a mermaid.  Moses and Pharaoh had sword fights right in front of us.The entire epic journey was retold in a way that not only made the story more entertaining, but more meaningful.  It is a story about triumph over injustice and freedom and the human spirit.  I’d never heard it before without the references to god overshadowing its beauty.

The next day, L’il T regaled us in pirate.  C-minor “yarr” and “arred” constantly, but we figured out she thought we were all pretending to be roaring dinosaurs every time we toasted.

A little pirate watching the lighting of the candles.

For example, I always viewed small talk as a waste of time. This isn’t uncommon in the Aspie world. The function of small talk is to build relationships. I didn’t get that. Instead of making social interactions as smooth as possible, it seemed to me that people were being fake.

I spent time with people who skipped small talk and jumped right into discussions (or monologues) on theology, physics, riding horses or L.M. Montgomery. I had always thought my denigration of small talk as unspiritual and shallow had largely come from my church.

Then it hit me- my church was (and is) Pentecostalism for Aspies!

It still has the hallmarks of Pentecostalism. Magical thinking, a tendency towards black and white viewpoints, the feeling of being a persecuted minority, superiority complex (we have the Spirit and one day you’ll see we were right), rebelling against the ‘world’ by obedience to certain authorities, and all that.

But missing from our church is the sensory overload present in so many charismatic circles. We don’t use drums or electric guitars. Lighting is simple and usually a bit dim. People are quiet.“Hilarity” and other emotional outbursts were frowned on from the pulpit. Dancing is almost non-existent.

Being ‘moved by the spirit’ means that most church services have a very predictable order that is decided on by the members of the congregation.

Typical:

Open in prayer, scripture reading.

Singing. People from the congregation suggest songs or just start singing while the pianist scrambles to find the key.

Prophesies are called out from people in the congregation in a quiet and orderly manner. Or short testimonies are given from people who go to the front.

Quiet.

An elder or deacon walks to the front and gives a message.

Communion and offering plate.

Children go up and recite verses or sing songs.

All children sing songs and sit back down.

Close in prayer.

The order varies slightly from church to church. However, any person can change the order any time they wish. This is important for people on the Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) because, while routine is comforting, sometimes it gets boring and change is needed to protect sanity. There are usually enough moments of silence that the Spirit could lead anyone to prophesy, exhort or sing at any time.

 My world makes so much sense now.