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Preacher's Kid


Guest crb
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O.K. The good news: Jesus is not the answer...he MIGHT be a SMALL piece of the cosmic/human story, but there's no one SAVED and no one UNSAVED. There's just us, "homo sapiens". As a species, we have produced a Hitler and a Jesus; an Idi Amin and a Ghandi. Really, what else is there to say?

 

The bad news: There is no bad news. It's all good.

 

My story (bullet pointed) -

- child (and grandchild and niece!) of ministers.

- spouse of Jewish person.

- current religion: let's all be good to each other, shall we? Inasmuchas we share a planet.

 

what's the upshot? Hell if I know.

 

Preacher's Kids have a HUGE story to share...but most of us won't share it. It's breaking the fourth wall. Inside the preacher's (rabbi's, imam's, minster's, missionary's, whathaveyou) house, there are a lot of dark stories to share.

 

Anyone interested in hearing a few?

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Oooh, I am, I am! Pick me! :grin:

 

Welcome to the board crb. I hope you enjoy the community. This is a great place to share stories and talk about the damage Christianity has done to your life.

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Thank you for the warm welcome, skeptical dude. Batten down your hatches. Here we go.

 

Let's see...where to begin, where to begin....

 

Well, maybe a heartwarming story about my grandfather and really, about my grandmother, too. The head honcho (for THIRTY years) of a very important church in a little midwestern burg in the middle of the last century. So, so, so many stories about how my dad and his sibs had to lead by example, lived in a fish bowl, etc.,etc., ..blah,blah, blah. How my grandpa was one of the moral compass' of the town. I have always imagined him an Atticus Finch-type.

 

Now, mind you, when I met and really KNEW my grandpa, I absolutely adored him. I am, after all, not his wife, and not his child. I am merely his granddaughter. To me, he was a quiet, smiling, happy gentleman. Never rocked anyone's boat. Loved watching football with my dad and smoking Tiparillos. I thought the moon rose and set in him. He was adorable. Not a stern expecter with a huge agenda.

 

Anyhoo, when I was, oh, about 21 or so, he got very sick. I helped my parents a lot to take care of him. My dad loved him so much and they would laugh together even then.

 

He quickly passed away from pneumonia, as these old bodies are wont to do...and that very day, the day that he passed away, my grandma comes in and tells me "You know, your grandfather had a 30 year affair with our church organist."

 

I had many internal reactions to that, not the least of which was, "So THAT'S how he put up YOU all these years." But also, that really began the veil lifting off of this sham of leadership in spiritual life. Not a sham, per se, but that, these are just people. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

Oh and another thing, LAST MONTH my sister says, "Guess what dad told me? You know why Grandma and Grandpa had to leave their first parish? Grandpa was having an affair."

 

WOW! Gotta love the old playuh!

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Hello crb. Welcome!

 

I believe there are a few ministerial leaders kids on this board (as well as a few former ministers). My own father was a Pentecostal minister (he's now a more liberal Xian and a prison Chaplin...thusly, much happier). His father was a pastor and my mother's father was a pastor.

 

Thankfully I avoided that axe myself.

 

There are definitely numerous stories that I could share about the ugly side of church politics and more. I also recently discovered some skeletons in the family closet that are scary enough to never share in a public forum. Certainly confirmed to me once again that religion does not hold the answers. If anything, it simply causes more confusion and damage.

 

Looking forward to reading more from you. :)

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Welcome to ExC! I'm a pastor's-kid-turned-atheist with a good handful of stories of varying painfulness (for lack of a better real word) to share, m'self.

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Hello crb. Welcome!

 

I believe there are a few ministerial leaders kids on this board (as well as a few former ministers). My own father was a Pentecostal minister (he's now a more liberal Xian and a prison Chaplin...thusly, much happier). His father was a pastor and my mother's father was a pastor....

I was a preacher's kid, indoctrinated in Christian Fundamentalism. Our denomination was Baptist. I had nine brothers and sisters, and all of us God fearing - scared to death to express any doubts. Too confusing for a child; it has taken me forty tears to work it out. I attribute my eventual peace of mind to my exposure to works of such men as Thomas Paine, Christopher Hitchers, and especially Professor Richard Dawkins book, The God Delusion.

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I would be curious to know what pastors actually thought of their congregation behind their backs. I can imagine some pastor laughing all the way to bank with the collection plates.

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Hi crb, and welcome! We're always up for stories, I wasn't a p/k or anything, just raised ultra-fundy, and even at that I saw plenty of skeletons going on. I enjoy hearing it "from the top" so to speak!

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Hi everyone! I kinda suspected people might wanna hear some dirt about the inside of "God's house". My goal here is to HUMANIZE, not DESTROY. Leaders of "spiritual causes" (and I would include His Holiness the Dalai Lama in that group), it bears repeating, are simply human beings, just like you and me. But I guess I'm preaching to the choir (sorry for the awful pun). My point, these stories coulda come from anyone's house...they just happen to come from mine. O.K. so much for my disclaimer.

 

And for all of you PKs (or whatever) who are in pain and/or afraid to tell your stories, I feel your pain. I really do. I struggled long and hard before I came to peace with this. I figure I'm not that special. If it happened in my house, it probably happened in lots of other housees. My hope is that by hearing about some of my experiences, others may find some relief and comraderie.

 

I guess I should tell you all, I'm not from a fundy background...but my parents did retire in fundy-land and I have a real warm place in my heart for fundies. I was raised in a VERY LIBERAL church. Life of the mind and all that stuff. Ordaining women and homosexuals...you know. The Apostle's Creed was our motto/mantra/raison d'etre. So, I guess my ForeParents should not be surprised one little bit to find me on this website, giving up our dirty laundry.

 

Now, for another story:

 

This was a regular Sunday for us:

Hell broke loose. Everyone up and at'em. Mother running around primping, pouffing, high-heeling it around the joint. Giving me the once over for "Church Appropriate" attire. My Dad...passing us in the hallway but not really seeing us...focussed on the "theater" that was to come. He would leave early, alone in his car, with nary a look in our direction.

 

My mother and sister and I to Choir Practice. Lots of smiles and hugs all around. I would scramble all over the building doing whatever needed doing: running the sound system, playing the piano, handing out bulletins, serving communion, helping the elderly to the bathroom. You know, the dutiful PK.

 

The Sermon: He was quite an orator. I myself was moved to tears many, many times by his words....brilliant, comforting, clear about a firm belief in a higher power, and therfore, reassuring to us all...about a peaceful God who brings rest to the weary and justice to the victimized. Invocation of the words lots of high-minds (Kirkegaard, C.S. Lewis, French Philosophers, etc.), illustrations to make us all feel the connection of our human frailties and successes. Loving, is a word that comes to mind.

 

After church, smiles and hugs to all as they exited. I would stand next to him sometimes as people were walking out, shaking his hand and extolling his virtues. Oh the ecstasy! (for him) He was smiling, happy... he would look at me with foreign eyes. The "public persona" fully engulfing him...I was a prop, or at least, felt like one.

 

The real fun began when we got home: I would hear him decompressing in the living room with my mother; debriefing her on the "atrocities" of the morning...

SAMPLES:

"Can you believe Mr. Johnson had the audacity to question my quotation...poor bastard."

"The Deacons want to cut my Discretionary Fund. Idiots."

"I could smell Mr. so and so's breath from the pulpit. He's GOTTA stop drinking before church." (meanwhile...in his hand....!!!! a mug! Guess what was in it!!!)

 

Just another day at the office friends....

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Welcome crb. I'm a PGK (preacher's grandkid). My grandfather was a Southern Baptist preacher. I can really relate to your stories. keep them coming.

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I just found out today, my aunt on my dad's side became a Reiki master a few years ago.

 

Pastor Dad's thoughts on the subject: "The requirements must not be very high, if she managed to do it." (I find it increasingly funny that instead of fearing and demonizing anything that isn't Christian, he acts as skeptical as any atheist with half a brain, yet keeps preaching).

 

My thoughts on it: "Hm, I should catch Auntie alone and see if she was on a path similar to mine," (Well...save for the fact that I skipped trying other spiritual mumbo jumbo before accepting reason).

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Oddity, I have heard many such statements come out of my own Pastor Dad's mouth....so "Christian" of them, don't you think?

 

As that character in "Hannah and Her Sisters" so eloquently put it, "If Jesus came back and saw all the things that were being said and done in his name, he'd never stop throwing up."

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Welcome CRB! I'm enjoying your tales. I'm not a PK myself, but my favorite uncle is the pastor of a HUGE church, another uncle and his wife are missionaries, 4 of my cousins are missionaries, and everyone (else) in my immediate family is very devout. Makes me wonder what goes on in their homes. :)

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Welcome to the community! My dad was a deacon - you'd have thought I would have deconverted before the age of 37 - I could tell you stories also of stuff that went on in our home in the name of christianity.

 

I was on paid ministerial staff myself for two years at a southern baptist church - and that was the straw that broke the camel's back as they say. You wouldn't believe the stuff that goes on at staff meetings, etc. The pastor of the church I was working for was a class one jackass! He's another one of the reasons I came to my senses!

 

I honestly believe that being on the staff of a fundamental church is probably the fastest way to deconversion! hahaha!

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  • 2 weeks later...

:lmao: LMAO!! Newbie to the site here and I too also a preacher's kid actually a reverend's kid(ooooh, right!). I also got lots of stories most of here wouldn't believe. I can totally relate with you with the every f@#$ing sunday routine! Upping the ante I was in praise band since the age of 12 few years later praise band leader(i was kinda a musical prodigy). So for a long while my every sunday routine was that and sharing the theatrics I mean pulpit with my dad. While reading your grandpa story I was chuckling 'cuz my granpa has a similar story(dayum ole playuhz).

 

I'm in the process of undoctrinating(if there's such a word). And just like everybody's extimony here, its a bitch to undo! It's a chaotic time for me but its expected and needed because after all its a collision of old and new realism or reality.

 

Eventually I'll write my extimony because I see from everyone here its a helpful step for recantation. In the meantime, imma keep reading the threads.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Thanks for sharing your stories, crb! Keep them coming! I'm not a PK but I was raised evangelical/fundy and I kind of get it.

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Hi everyone,

So..it's been a little while since I first posted. Thought I'd check in again. I would love to hear some stories from all the OTHER P/R/M/? kids out there too. To let everyone have a different glimpse and also, to let everyone know it wasn't just MY house.

 

So, my dad started drinking pretty regularly, I guess when I was around 11 or so. By the time I got to high school, it was GAME ON. Wine mixed in with coffee in the morning, to jump start the engine. HUGE gallon jugs of wine under each of his desks (one at home, one at church). Drinking ALL DAY LONG. By the time I got to grad school, and was living with my then-boyfriend, now-husband, he would call our little, little house everyone friday night BOMBED out of his mind just wanting to shoot the shit. My sweet sweet boyfriend/husband would listen patiently and eventually hand the phone off to me. Really ridiculous. You know what drunk dialing is like, don't you? Or at least, you've been on the receiving end of it, maybe.

 

Anyway, I would STUPIDLY try to reason with him.

Me: "Dad, I'm really upset, and wanted to talk to you about your drinking problem."

Dad: "I don't have a drinking problem. You hate me and you're looking for something to blame your hate on."

 

I'd try to talk to my mom. "Don't you think we TRY and do something, Mom."

Sheepish head shaking.

 

O.K. So.

 

My mom eventually, after years of this (I mean I was almost 30) calls me one day and sobs, "OH NO! The church just called me. There's been an 'incident' down at the church with the xerox man. They say they're gonna have to fire your father if we don't do an intervention."

 

I guess THEN she was finally ready.

 

I was the go-to fix-it girl, in my family. (I have SO resigned from that job.)

 

So I arranged an intervention and dad was shamed into non-drinking. That was, oh, 20 years ago. He never went to AA. He did 6 weeks of agreed on out-patient treatment.

And to this day, resents that I had to DO THAT to him. "Why didn't I just talk to him????????" He's never had another drink....probably out of spite.

 

Yeah, he's a Dry Drunk. No personal responsibility, or at least conscious awareness or repentance or any of THAT stuff.

 

I've known QUITE A FEW ministers who drink. Get a bunch of 'em together when they're tanked up....now THAT'S a HOOOT!!!!!

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I never knew any Pentecostal preachers that drank. If they did, they kept it well under wraps (it was about as verboten as fornication), and they certainly would have kept it well hidden from fellow pastors. The Assemblies of God expressly forbid drinking. I always figured that Catholic priests were the ones doing the drinking.

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