Not one of us can rest, be happy, be at home, be at peace with ourselves, until we end hatred and division. -John Lewis
How does one understand they have been incorrectly programmed?
Gramps lived to 80, a needle a day man, saccharin in his tea, served in a tall glass, no taller than the spoon mind. The spoon, the little silver conductor, it didn’t protect your hands, just the glass, like it couldn’t save everything, a specialist not requiring a referral.
Gramps dutifully worked the fruit farm from sunup, and a full time 4–12 shift at the Oldsmobile factory for nigh on 40 years, he would have none of the separatist and caste nonsense. Faithfully, for decades, he went to the church with the speaker he could relate to, that it was not his place, did not faze him. He was not bothered by the fact that, to borrow a phrase, no one spoke and no smiled. He sat alone and had his meditation. Damn the naysayers. Females wore dresses with doilies perched atop their heads. Males wore suits with vests, and for some, pocket watches. I had the use of a pocket watch as a child, very cool, oh and a bow tie, just on Sundays, perhaps The Doctor may stop by.
Men had short hair, women had long. No one wore earrings or makeup, the devils work, along with playing cards and dancing. Makes for a terrible grade six graduation when you are not allowed to dance, I digress, but will catch up with the Baptists later, hugs from Estonia, I am sure if your God exists Maria, you are his chief hugger.
Gramps used to walk to the post office every day, then he changed his routine. Sixteen times a day he would walk down the stairs and up, determined to live many more years. Damn his resistance to doctors! It was an infected toe, gone to the bloodstream, that got him in the end.
The Baptist church is just another religious division. As I understand there are three main western religions, Catholic, Jewish and Anabaptist. Now some will argue for Lutheran, Methodist, and many others. I like to keep things simple. Catholics believe in infant baptism and the divinity of Jesus Christ, Anabaptist believe in adult baptism and the divinity of Jesus Christ, Jewish believe in no baptism and no divinity of Jesus Christ. These are the main issues that divide people who otherwise believe in the same god, the same preordained reality and the same basic Ten Commandments. What’s the problem?
I always found Baptist churches to be most friendly, accommodating and fun, especially down south. I have spent many a Sunday in various church denominations, listened in some, spoke in others. Everyone seemed the same; scared, alone, hoping for a better future and the end to suffering on earth (death), and the rewards of heaven (eternal life). Maybe it’s just me, or do you agree, that if we remove greed from the equation people can work together to end most suffering on earth and create the life biblically described as heaven, here on the planet we all share?
Divisions are what keep things civilized, never cared for being civilized, isn’t that just a fancy term for mastering the art of living in cities? Never cared much for that either.
The divisions of civilized folk in South Africa were particularly horrible during apartheid. I had the peculiar opportunity to meet and get to know a couple of Caucasian men who grew up in that time and place, they both had brutal tales to tell. I probably wouldn’t be telling you any of the stories these men told me if they had the slightest remorse or guilt around their actions but they do not. They believe the lives they led in South Africa were above reproach.
As the first story goes…. It was George’s twelfth birthday. In his time and place, it was not uncommon for starving black men to approach the white farmers to beg table scraps. It annoyed the land owners but for the most part, because of the women in the house, it was tolerated. There was, however, a law in place that forbade it, punishment was a beating and possibly death. Remember this part for later. So on this day a beggar happens to chance upon this fellows farm, well his dad’s farm, remember he is just turning twelve. It was early morning when his dad shouted him awake and to come downstairs immediately. It was lesson day. When the young lad approached his father near the door, his father opened it to show the beggar on the porch. “Today son you learn what it means to be a white man.” His father proceeded to remove the maul from its hanger on the door frame and stepped into the beggar, beating him within an inch of his life. Call in the cleaner, body removal at your service. Are you still with me, you need a bucket? These same farms also had a secondary defence. The military. Which leads me to my next tale.
I met him on an island off the coast of my home on native land. We met shortly after the South African people finally brought Apartheid to an end. The provisional government of the people for the people had taken back many of the ranches, farms, chattel and riches which they believed were stolen from them. This man lost his farm, wealth, and yacht. The bit of young scenery he once picked up during a party on his yacht remained, with young children now in tow. The monetary recompense afforded him and his immediate family a flight to Canada.
He was quite an interesting character and perhaps I will tell you about his farming ideas and his family another time. For now I will tell you what he missed most about his growing up in apartheid South Africa, his job.
For six years after his eighteenth birthday he had a simple one. He sat around an airfield, playing cards in a hanger waiting for farmers to push a panic button. You see dear reader, the native people of South Africa were being exploited and enslaved, this means there were a lot of angry and hungry people walking around. Every once in a while they would congregate and a mob would form. Inevitably they would target a wealthy landowner and the landowner would push the panic button, thereby setting in motion a lethal killing machine in the form of young soldiers, machine guns, and helicopters. Enough said.