Hellfire and brimstone

In the cheesy (but badass) John Woo movie "Paycheck," Uma Thurman says something like, "All we are is the sum of our experiences." Maybe it's a hokey movie quote, but I think it's pretty true, at least in my case. I have lots to say, and no real outlet to say it. And here is why:

I am the daughter of a pretty well-known, voraciously proselytizing Christian singer. If I write in a tangible journal, and my sister finds it on a visit to Boston, or I somehow die tomorrow in a terrible car accident, my parents might read it and then know for certain (instead of perpetually debating the notion) that their daughter is, essentially, an unreligious whore of Babylon. Call me a liar, but I'd rather be dishonest with them than break my father's heart.

When I was a child, for almost a decade, my family lived out of suitcases and seedy motel rooms (or pastor's houses), going church to church presenting a famous-for-being-controversial evangelical drama (akin to this one, but with a lot more hellfire and brimstone, and a lot lower budget). The premise was this: some people die, and go to heaven or hell. "Heaven" is a massive mylar sheet with silk-clad angels and, "streets of gold." Jesus welcomes Christians with open arms, and they go offstage, presumably to play harps and frolic on clouds or whatever they do up there.




"Hell" is where it gets dicey... a caped, makeup-clad, voice-modulated Satan literally drags nonbelievers into a flaming pit of fire, represented via red silk and smoke machine. And, you guys, it's fucking scary.

Disagree? You have to see it to believe it: during the "altar call," hundreds, and I mean hundreds, of people would walk out of that sanctuary at the end of the night, literally scared into salvation. Elderly people. Rich and poor people, black and white people. Even little kids.

Even when I was younger, I would ask my dad whether it was okay to "scare" people into believing in God. His response? "I'd rather scare 'em into heaven than lure 'em into hell."