But in any case, the VBC needed volunteers. And one thing you should know if you are even considering marrying an officer is that you need to love volunteering deep down into your itty bitty toes. Or, at least, tolerate it without wanting to tear other people's heads off. Either one works but if you fall into the latter category you also have to spend hours practicing not looking like you want to tear other people's heads off. Trust me, I've spent some serious quality time with the mirror to cultivate a passive look.
In any case, I had no intentions of volunteering for this one (it had a theme like Viva Las Jesus with a horrifying Jonestown-esque t-shirt with kids in sombreros -- and the kids had totally already drunk the Kool-Aid) but I felt sort of bad because of this whole volun-telling culture with us wives. And so, I made the mistake of looking for absolution.
On a phone call with another wife (I'll call her Rae) about a fundraiser or gift or some other nonsense -- I told you there was a lot of volunteering -- I mentioned that I felt bad about not volunteering for the VBC and then went into self-defensive justification that Munchkin was too young, we weren't religious, yadda-yadda-yadda. To her credit, Rae listened and then said, "You know, you should volunteer. I think it would be fun for Munchkin since there will be lots of other kids there and I've seen the materials and it's really not over the top."
We got to talking more and I explained my issues with organized religion and my atheistic tendencies. We talked a lot about faith and how it doesn't come so easy for some people. And we talked more about the VBC and how it could help introduce the ideas of faith and God to my son.
Needless to say, Miss Rae did an excellent sales pitch and got me thinking maybe I wasn't quite as open-minded as I thought. Maybe the VBC would be something that my son would enjoy and I needed to remove the stick from my ass. It would be fair to say that her comments made me wonder if the religious intolerance didn't stem from those crazy Baptists but from deep down inside me.
Fast forward a week. I'm at some God-forsaken luncheon for somebody and I'm seated at a table with Rae, the Chaplain's wife and the woman who is organizing the VBC. Once again, a wide call for volunteers is raised. And then I make my fatal mistake. I look over at my tablemates and I say, "If you really need volunteers, I can help."
There was a moment of total silence. And then Rae, my supposed ally in a walk towards the Lord, looked over at the Chaplain's wife and said in a snotty voice, "Yeah, right. Like we want the kids around someone who doesn't believe in Jesus. That would be some role model!" And the other two women laughed and went on with their planning for the event as if I wasn't even there.
I was more than a little pissed. First, this woman had been the one trying to talk me into volunteering. And second, she took comments made during our conversation about religion, warped them and used them completely out of context. But the good news was that I learned that someone was not my friend that day. And more importantly, I didn't have to don a sombrero and ruin a classic Elvis song for children by singing lyrics like "Viva Las Jesus." So perhaps it was a win-win situation after all.
But now with the holidays approaching, the call for volunteers is ringing loud throughout the unit. Volunteers to set up for holiday services, Christmas carolling, and Christmas tree lighting. And once again, I find myself thinking about that long phone conversation about faith I had with Rae.
I do want my son to see both sides of this story. I do want him to learn that faith is possible. I just don't think these are the people who should be teaching it to him.
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