religion

I thought we should love the devil because the devil hates love and therefore would hate the people that loved him. If we hated the devil, well, hate is a bad thing and we'd be playing right into his hand if we hated him.
Loving the devil would really tick him off.

I used to believe…

when I was at primary school, they put the hymns on a projector for us to sing. I was to young to read along and keep up with the singing, so I sang what I heard. I had a picture of Jesus dancing on a sofa in a party because of the hymn 'Lord Of Th Dance'- 'Dance then, whereever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance Settee'

I used to think that the song "When the Saints Go Marchin' In" was really "When the SINKS Go Marchin' In." For years I always pictured a line of dancing bathroom sinks whenever I heard or sang that song.

I used to believe…

As a child, I thought for a long time that the musical director at our church was the one and only Jesus Christ. He looked just like pictures and paintings I had seen in books. Recently, at a funeral, my cousin's 2 year old child pointed at me with wide eyes and said, "Jesus! Jesus!". I guess I sort of look like Him too.

I used to believe…

when i waz little i thot (this was brought on by my mom) that u could just pray for what u wanted to play with in heaven after you died. i was about 4 at the time and prayed that barbies and t.y.s would be waiting on me as soon as i died. i couldnt wait!

I came home from school once, threw my school bag onto the chair and announced, 'well mum, I know God's secret!' ... when pressed I proudly told her; 'He has a beard!'

I used to believe…

When I was told that 'God is everywhere, on everything and in every corner' I believed that if the light was right you would see the face of a bearded man repeated everywhere on every wall, bit of furniture, tree, car, the dog, and so on, a bit like looking through a kaleidascope...

However, I also had the very same belief about Father Christmas, and wondered for a long time if they were the same man.

I used to believe…

As a child, I tried to deduce the meaning of the word "manger" from its context in the Christmas story, but got quite the wrong idea. I had learned that the baby Jesus slept on a bed of hay within a stable, but I was grown before I learned that "manger" referred only to that bed of hay itself. Throughout childhood, I assumed the manger was a much larger area, so that the the stable was within the manger, so I thought, rather than the reverse. I remember, for example, when singing "Away In A Manger", envisioning the "manger" as a large field with the stable at one edge of it. In fact, somewhere in that "manger" (field) was where I envisioned the shepherds watching over their flocks when the angels appeared to tell them of Jesus's birth. Although my idea of the "manger" was a fairly large filed, it was not extremely enormous, so I then thought of the shepherds as having only a rather short walk from where the angel gave them the message to where they found the baby Jesus, in the stable, lying in the bed of hay (which I learned many years later to be the actual manger).

I used to believe…

In preschool, we sang a song about Jesus, and I thought God would get sad. After all, Jesus was his only son, and he died on the cross! I vividly remember a picture in my mind of God, who was bawling his eyes out, looking at a crucifix. He looked like a guy with a beard, and he had a tophat.

I used to believe…

When they sang "When the roll is called up yonder" I always envisioned a piece of bread. It never occurred to me to wonder why a piece of bread would be called to heaven. I just took it on faith.

I used to believe…

When I was ten years old, I firmly believed in god and I thought he controlled all of the weather on earth. I also believed that if you are a good person, you will go to heaven when you die, but if you are a bad person, you will go to hell. When I was told the truth about Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy when I was twelve, I quickly stopped believing in god and that there was a heaven and hell. I thought "If Santa is not real, then why would god be real?"

I used to believe…

When I was a teenager I only wanted to marry someone Catholic, because I wanted 6 kids. I thought Catholics liked kids more because they had so many. It wasn't until YEARS later that I understood they don't have that many kids on purpose!

I used to believe…

Well, I'm Catholic, and I went to a private school. On Ash Wednesday, when the priest rubs some ashes on your forehead at church at the beginning of Lent, I used to think the ashes were like still on fire and burning, and that it would burn into your forehead and skull permanently and hurt. I think I was around 5 or 6, and I remember running out of the church when it was my turn to be next in line.

One a side note I also thought most people in the world were one religion.

I went to a Catholic school, and right before Easter in the 4th grade we watched a movie about the crucifixion of Jesus. I was absolutely terrified because when they hammered the nails into his wrists, the kid next to me said "Ohhhh.." and made an "ouch" face. I took that to mean that any time someone hurts the inside of your wrist, you'd die. I guarded my inner wrists nonstop for the next few months.

I also thought that the guy playing Jesus really did die in the movie. That he was such a strong Christian that he thought it was worth giving up his life to show the story of what happened to Jesus. I was awfully uneasy about this, and it seemed morbid that we were watching it in school.

I used to believe…

My father came from a very religious family.

when he was younger he became so irrationaly terrified that the devil was on the right side of his room at night, that he moved all of his furniture to the left side of his room and slept with a baseball bat so that when the devil finally came over to the left side, he could kill him.

I grew up in a non practicing Jewish household. When I was a kid, I believed that the story of Hannukah went like this: For some reason, the Jews were wandering in the desert trying to get to an unspecified destination. They used this huge lamp-like thing called a Menorah to help them find their way at night. One night, the lights went out and they only had enough oil to make it last one night more. However, a miracle happened and the oil lasted 8 nights, which gave them enough time to reach their final destination. I believed this story until I was in my late teens and happened to see the "Rugrats Hanukkah story" on TV.

I grew up in a pretty strict Lutheran church, and I sincerely believed that if I took communion when I was in any way spiritually unprepared, that I would be immediately shot straight through the floor down into hell to burn for all eternity. Right there, on the spot. No second chances. Only a pile of clothes and shoes would remain.

The fact that I had never observed this phenomenon didn't diminish my conviction that it was guaranteed to happen to me.

I never signed up for confirmation/first communion because I figured I wasn't stupid enough to play Russian Roulette with my immortal soul.

I still hold my breath at other people's kids' First Communions.