for the longest time she hid me from her parents and i hid her from mine. i'm sure both sets of parents knew something was going on considering this was during a time before cell phones-- back when you'd have to call the parent and ask for the daughter in your best upstanding citizen voice.
and when i finally met them they were unhappy that i was only half asian. and even more unhappy that the half of me that was asian was not chinese.
what's worse is i wasn't christian.
at the time, i really did like the girl-- even though i knew her parents would never get to know anything about me past my race and lack of religion-- and so i wanted to show her that her life was important to me even if it was different than mine.
so i went to her chinese christian church.
this was my first direct experience with christianity and, being a curious young man, i managed to get myself kicked out of the church most immediately.
the whole thing was awkward from the start and i'm less surprised that i had been kicked out and more surprised that i ever went in willingly. i was really fucking hungry and they were passing around that religious grape juice and those saltine crackers that are somehow meant to be jesus' blood and body (gross), but they wouldn't let me have any because i wasn't a "believer."
anyway, the pastor was explaining that lucifer was god's favorite angel and there came a day when lucifer essentially asked god a "why?" and was thrown from heaven.
believe it or not, i had never known satan was previously an angel-- let alone god's favorite angel. but this brought up a more important question in my mind:
"if lucifer was an angel that fell from heaven," i asked, "wouldn't that mean guys at bars across the world are accidentally calling hot girls the devil?"
the pastor just stared.
"you know, 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven?'"
and then i was kicked out.
i guess i should've seen that coming, but i had a habit of saying things without thinking and i was actually serious about my question.
the next week, i returned for sunday school and met a pastor named dean. he was really friend and much more personable than the original speaker. and he gave me donuts for showing up.
toward the end of his little class on love and forgiveness, dean took me aside and asked me for my contact information-- saying maybe we could go out and shoot some pool or get to know each other. he was, basically, reaching out to me because he recognized how horribly out of place i had been. he described the previous pastor's reaction to my lucifer question as "unchristian" and i liked that.
but when i gave him my name, something strange happened.
"as in... son of rich wishnack?"
"oh," i sputtered, "you knew him?"
"coach wishnack! he was my e.s.l. teacher when i moved here! wow... what's he doing now? is he still teaching?"
"well," i started. my dad had died two years ago at the time and i hadn't gotten comfortable with explaining that. but i tried-- and i tried to do it in the light of the religious surroundings. "my dad is... you know, he's up there."
i pointed at the ceiling, meaning heaven.
"oh?" dean looked confused, "but i thought your dad was jewish."
my dad couldn't be in heaven, no, because he wasn't christian. it was at that exact moment i knew i would probably never become religious and i would definitely never return to that church again.
and they didn't even have to kick me out that time.
i like this one.
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