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I wanted to write about my experiences with the Boston Church of Christ (BCC). It is my hope that doing so will help to get rid of some of the pain I went through there. First I want to give background information on myself. My background is I come from an emotionally devoid family of Jewish descent. Being Jewish ended when I was Bar Mitzvah-ed at 13. Being part of a family ended when I was conceived. I have spent most of my life alone and lonely. God was mentioned as an afterthought. He was never disrespected. But he was never respected either. So the end result was that I had neither people nor God in my life. Except for my grandmother. She hugged me, told me that she loved me and made me feel protected. When she died I was 13 years old. At 13 I was only loved by one person and that person was gone. For the next 15 years I lived but was very alone. I had nobody to love or hug me. All the things my grandmother did were no longer a part of my life. During the spring of 1997 I would spend my only times of peace at a local park and a neighbors house. At the neighbors house I would lay in their hammock and feel at peace. I would look up in the sky and see peace. The couple in the house had graciously offered me the chance to use their hammock any time I wanted to. The man of the house would come out every once and a while and shoot the breeze. It was nice to have a talk with another man. I never really knew what that felt like. He would call me bud. I felt loved even though it was only for a moment. There was also a park that I would go to when the weather was nice. It was away from my house and while there I felt that nobody could hurt me. The park is so beautiful and peaceful. I would go there and ask God to take away the pain. Either with humans or in a box. Whatever came first. I was ready for both because I was so lonely. I just wanted the pain to end. I would pray for two basic things: both involved being loved by a man. I had no real father, brothers or close friends. I just wanted to either be loved by a man or die. My number 1 prayer was to be hugged by a man and told that he loved me. My number 2 prayer was to have a guy friend who would call me up and ask me how I am doing. And really care to hear the answer. This was my history before I met a member of the Boston Church of Christ. The wife of the man who invited me to use his hammock whenever I wanted was a member of the Boston Church of Christ. I didn�t know her very well. I did notice that on Wednesdays after more than 12 hours a shift as a nurse several miles from her home while pregnant she would go to church. I thought that was very strange. After working all morning and afternoon she would drive 15 miles both ways to church. I wasn�t sure if she was committed or crazy. I never went to church so I figured that it was just something that I didn�t understand. When she decided to move closer to her work I offered to help in the moving process. That was my first real introduction to the church. The night before their move three or four of the church women came over with eight or nine bowls of food. I was amazed. They were so thoughtful that it surprised me. They didn�t want their pregnant friend to have to cook the night before her move. They seemed like a real family to me. Each person mattered. The next morning when I arrived four or five men were already there helping with the move. They were from the church too. They seemed to be a real family. When I was in the truck I started talking with one of the men. He was a preacher in the BCC named Tom. He was nice, kind and friendly. Needless to say that I did not know many men like that. When I heard that he was a part of the church I said that I always wanted to attend a church service. He said that he was preaching tomorrow and would I like to come? I said sure. The next morning I met Tom at the same house and we drove to the service at a local high school. He complimented me on my clothing. He sounded impressed that I was wearing nice clothes. The way he said it I felt good-looking. I spent most of my life feeling like the ugly duckling. Nobody ever said that I looked good before. It was a welcome change. When we arrived he introduced me to everyone he knew. I felt like I was an honored guest of the king. Everyone was so kind and nice that I felt like I never wanted to leave. I think he noticed me feeling a little of place so he gave me a hug. That was probably the first hug that I received from a man in about 10 years. It was nice, real nice. To feel love from a human being felt good. Looking around during the service I noticed how friendly everyone was to each other. They hugged each other, asked how the other one was doing and said they loved each other. I never heard that before. I felt like I was in a parallel universe. People in my world do not act that way. They act mean, selfish and hurtful. That was my norm. The opposite seemed too good to be true. For the moment though it was nice to see. It kept my heart going. I wasn�t so alone if I could be near these people every week. It was a gift from God. The church service was upbeat, positive and friendly. Tom had a way of speaking that could make the comatose sit up and take notice. There they also had communion. I never had that before so I did not know what to make of it. Jesus was never a part of my life. When they started talking about what he means to "our" lives I was very self-conscious. I was even more uncomfortable when the plates went around. I felt that I couldn�t avoid taking it without unwanted attention. I also did not want to partake in it, as it made me feel weird, but I just grinned and bore it. When the church service was over Tom invited me to go get some pizza with him and his family. There was the two of us, his wife, three sons and a few of their friends. We had pizza, smiles and nice conversation. I was grateful for all of it. When he dropped me off later Tom hugged me. He said that he was glad that God had brought us together. So was I. In the weeks ahead I got into the habit of going to Tom�s house and riding with him to church. He usually went early on Sundays to help prepare for the service. One day I asked him about mid-week service. Was it something I could go to? At the time mid-weeks were divided between singles and marrieds. At the moment he was teaching a class for married men during mid-week service. He thought I would benefit from the singles mid-week classes. He also mentioned a singles retreat of the church�s that he was chaperoning. Later he offered me money a member had donated to the church for people who couldn�t afford to go to the retreat. I said that I don�t like to go away with people I just met. I said that I wanted to get to know them first. He seemed fine and respectful of my feelings. Mid-week services seemed very cool. My first service was in a singles class after they came back from their retreat. They seemed very happy, friendly and excited while talking about the event. They talked about how much they enjoyed it, how much they liked the speakers and how they grew "spiritually" from it. They seemed to have the happiness that I was dying for. One thing I noticed when I first started but shrugged off was they all seemed to say the same things. Buzz words if you will. I grew "spiritually". I got closer to my fellow brothers and sisters (in Christ.) My friend came with me and he really enjoyed it. It wasn�t feeling the same things that was suspicious. It was that they all seemed to say the same things. Word for word almost like they were being trained on what to say. I was so enthralled with the appearance of happiness that anything else seemed trivial. The main mid-week services were fun, bonding and a learning experience about Christianity. Upbeat songs were sung. Love was expressed. Church events were planned. I felt that I may never have to be alone again. I had hope and didn�t want to give that up for any reason. With that in mind when an usual mid-week was occurring I didn�t think twice about it. Tom got up and told a story about a man in the church. He was found to have been guilty of sin. A story was told about how this man was an alcoholic. When he was confronted by the elders about his sin he refused to give it up. So he was told that in accordance with Matthew 18 the issue would now be brought before the church. Tom read a letter from the church elders saying the story and asking members to pray for the man�s soul. There was a letter read to the congregation that the man himself had written. In it he admitted his sin, guilt, and pridefulness. And announced that he is going to rehab to recover from his addiction. Also he had a wife and children in the church. So members were asked not to repeat the story because kids talk. Since the focus seemed to be on helping the man and his family I didn�t see anything wrong with what was done. The church really seemed to be a place of love. It seemed like a place where I could be loved. I looked forward to the future. A few weeks later another "intervention" occurred. It involved a woman in the congregation who had committed sexual sin. Tom read a letter from the BCC elders condemning the woman in front of her "brothers and sisters" for what she had done. What she had done was meet a man in another part of the church and dated him. They slept together and the elders found out about it. When they were "discovered" they were chastised. But unfortunately they were "prideful" and vowed to continue their relationship. So bringing it before there respective congregations was the next step of Matthew 18. The letter from the church elders started with the quote from Matthew 18 about a brother sinning and what to do about it. It went on to discuss her sin and asked the members to pray for her soul. The next letter read was from the lady. She admitted her "pridefulness" as well as her sexual sin. She asked for forgiveness and promised to repent. Next came the preacher�s prayer for our "lost" sister. The prayer went on forever. If he didn�t go on for ten minutes it certainly felt like it. He went on endlessly that we should pray for our fallen sister that Christ will lift her up and show her the error of her ways. The prayer must have had the word sexual sin in every other word. He didn�t just make his point. He kept making it and making it, forever! Nobody in the audience said anything. They just listened to the preacher go on and on. I felt liked I was witnessing a public rape. It was torture for me so I can only imagine what it must have been like for the lady. I mean she had her sexual life paraded before her entire group of friends. Later I found out the guy involved had the same thing happen in front of his branch of the church. I talked to one of my church friends about it. He said that he knew the woman and it made him feel squeamish too. But he said that the only way to deal with a problem is to get it out of the darkness and into the light. That is what Matthew 18 is all about, he said. He also talked about how Satan is always trying to get us. And how we always have to be on guard. He implied that doing this was a good thing and that it was in her best interest. A few weeks later it was my birthday. Birthdays for me are usually painful because I never felt like my birthday meant anything. It was always a source of pain. It was a reminder of not having a family and feeling alone. When it came up in discussion with Tom he invited me over to celebrate my birthday with him and his wife. I felt for once that I was not alone. I couldn�t believe that a guy who just met me cared enough to want to celebrate my birthday. I went to his house and had a nice dinner and conversation. After the dinner I went up to the mid-week service with Tom and his wife. The service was nice as usual. When we broke up into smaller groups after it was over I saw a woman come over to me and start singing happy birthday. Tom had bought me a cake, some shaving cream, razors and a few other presents. I felt like the most loved person in the world. I never thought that I would ever feel that way. It was nice to have the love of a man. It was like having a father. I didn�t feel so alone anymore. It was around the time of my birthday that Tom and I were talking outside of his home. We were just shooting the breeze and I said how much I appreciated him in my life. At that point he gave me a hug and told me he loved me. I responded that I love him too. I felt like I was his honorary son. I was loved and hugged by a man whom I respected. I had found a little piece of happiness through love. It felt good. Later, Tom had a doctor�s appointment. I went with him for moral support. It was after that meeting that things changed.
I waited for him in the waiting room. His appointment was very quick. On the way back to dropping me off we talked in the car. I think we talked about religious issues. I asked him how specifically the Bible has changed his life. What about it made him do things differently than before he started studying the Bible. He started to tell me how much he slept around and a few other specifics that I didn�t care to hear about. When I changed that subject he honed right in on it. And he went for the jugular. He started talking about how I didn�t get it. He said that I was in denial and had the attitude that I was wrong for not agreeing with him. He was pretty intense. I thought we were debating an issue. I was wrong. He started to become very agitated and aggravated over the discussion. I got the impression that the more I didn�t agree with him the more upset he got. He was having a nutty. Boy, could he do that well. (I forget his exact words but it was the attitude that I just didn�t get it, I had to learn, etc.) Since I am a glutton for punishment I kept "yeah, but..."-ing... I guess I wanted his approval so much that I didn�t want him to be mad at me. The more I didn�t agree, the angrier he got.
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