Captain Jesus

In Seattle the relatives wanted to know how my spiritual education was proceeding. I didn't know what that meant. My parents went to church every Sunday but the Army chapel had a day-care for young children like me that were thought to likely be too disruptive for the services.

But when we got back from Seattle my parents decided to put me in a Bible class. The class had already been in progress for a couple of weeks. I was entered into it in the middle. This was par for the course. I was stuck with a bunch of kids who were more Christian than I was because they started the class at the beginning. Stuff like this went on throughout my childhood. It comes with being an army brat. You're always late for the start of the program. The other kids think they will always know more than you will. You have to prove them wrong, by coming up from behind.

I was determined to get more Jesus knowledge than all those snots put together. I dove into the Bible reader and read four weeks of lessons in one, and by the end of the course I was the smart-ass in the class with his hand up all the time.

At the end of it all, all I got was this lousy certificate. WTF? Since when is Jesus a sailor? Since when am I a sailor? And if I'm so well trained, why is Jesus still standing there? Doesn't graduating mean I can do it myself now? Someone then told me that the Christian way was to let Jesus into your HEART and guide you in all your life.

That can't be right, I thought. If Jesus is going to live my life for me, why am I here? What do I need with a divine parasite in my heart, telling me where to go and what to do?