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He was worse than that! My parents tithed, and they would put cash in a jar in their room that went into the envelopes for Sunday and we'd each get some for "offering" during Sunday School.
They noticed at some point that the church cash seemed to be diminishing, and it turned out to be because my big bro was filching it and buying cupcakes and candy for his friends.
Well there ya go...somebody truly benefitting from religion!
Sometimes it's done on a smaller scale. When I was a teenager, they found a youth minister for the church, hoping to get the last straggling remnants of teens to remain at the church. My parents were very active in the church and so I had to go to the new youth group that was formed.
The new youth minister assured us that he was cool and that we would not only do Bible studies and prayers and services, we could do fun things, too. In fact, he mentioned that there was going to be a Frank Zappa concert in the area, and if we'd all like to go, we could give him the money and he would get the tickets. The next week we brought him our money for the concert tickets. And never saw him again.
As naughty as that was, I have a certain grudging admiration for the little stinker.
Yeah, except he grew up to be a big stinker. He had a drug habit for a time. Stole our jewelry, my mother's silverware, did B&Es around town until he robbed the people next door and pawned a diamond ring at the only pawnshop in town, which was right across the street from the police station. When the cops went to the pawnshop and found the ring and asked if they could describe the person who brought it in, the owner said, "Sure, it's the electrician who's doing work in your police station."
Talk about wanting to get caught.
He did have a conscience. He later told me that he couldn't believe how many people hide money and jewelry in the same places--inside a Bible, in the freezer, taped under a drawer. "Take Ben and Helen next door. They had $300 and a bunch of expensive jewelry just lying there in a drawer in the bedroom! I took just $50 and the one ring because that would get me high for the day. They were lucky they were robbed by a friend!"
Twenty-five years later, the Hep C he didn't know he had picked up from a needle during his short stint as a junkie killed him at the age of 51. In the interim, he'd married and divorced but had a daughter who he lived for. He worked hard and smoked weed all day and drank too much at night, but he never went back to heroin.
The night before he died, he was in the hospital with my mother and one of our sisters, and a priest was administering communion to the man in the bed next door. The priest stopped and looked at my brother and asked if he was a Christian. My brother said "yes", at which my sister laughed and said "You are NOT". He'd always been clear that he had no belief in a God. He ignored her and told the priest, "But I am not a Catholic." Priest said, "Would you like to take Communion?" and my brother said "Yes", and so the priest gave Communion to this atheist who had never been Catholic and said the last rites of the Catholic Church over him.
My Protestant mother was so happy to witness this apparent end-of-life acceptance of Christ. My brother died the next morning.
I don't believe for a minute that my brother had some deathbed conversion. He had known for some time that he was dying. He had other health issues that put him low on the list for a liver transplant. He'd had some serious talks with his daughter, who was in her last year of college, to make sure she understood that he wasn't going to be around much longer. He didn't want any church funeral, didn't care what we did as long as he had a closed casket and could be buried in jeans and his favorite sweatshirt. (I wrote and gave the eulogy, made 'em laugh and made 'em cry.)
But his daughter was raised Catholic by her maternal grandmother (my brother's ex is still alive and still a junkie at 69, brain burnt to a crisp), and I believe that he took the Communion and the last rites from a Catholic priest when the opportunity presented itself because it would give the person he loved most some peace, with the added sidebar of giving a bit of that peace to our mother, too.
My mother died in 2020, and last year we cleaned out and sold her house. During the standard search to see if there were any liens against the property, it was discovered that there was an outstanding hospital bill for my brother for $1800 from 2001 that our mother must have signed for when she took him on one of his hospital trips. He was probably supposed to pay it and never did. We were three months short of the 20 years when the claim would no longer have been valid, but for $1800 we weren't going to delay the sale of the house, so we just paid it. He got us one last time!
Yeah, except he grew up to be a big stinker. He had a drug habit for a time. Stole our jewelry, my mother's silverware, did B&Es around town until he robbed the people next door and pawned a diamond ring at the only pawnshop in town, which was right across the street from the police station. When the cops went to the pawnshop and found the ring and asked if they could describe the person who brought it in, the owner said, "Sure, it's the electrician who's doing work in your police station."
Talk about wanting to get caught.
He did have a conscience. He later told me that he couldn't believe how many people hide money and jewelry in the same places--inside a Bible, in the freezer, taped under a drawer. "Take Ben and Helen next door. They had $300 and a bunch of expensive jewelry just lying there in a drawer in the bedroom! I took just $50 and the one ring because that would get me high for the day. They were lucky they were robbed by a friend!"
Twenty-five years later, the Hep C he didn't know he had picked up from a needle during his short stint as a junkie killed him at the age of 51. In the interim, he'd married and divorced but had a daughter who he lived for. He worked hard and smoked weed all day and drank too much at night, but he never went back to heroin.
The night before he died, he was in the hospital with my mother and one of our sisters, and a priest was administering communion to the man in the bed next door. The priest stopped and looked at my brother and asked if he was a Christian. My brother said "yes", at which my sister laughed and said "You are NOT". He'd always been clear that he had no belief in a God. He ignored her and told the priest, "But I am not a Catholic." Priest said, "Would you like to take Communion?" and my brother said "Yes", and so the priest gave Communion to this atheist who had never been Catholic and said the last rites of the Catholic Church over him.
My Protestant mother was so happy to witness this apparent end-of-life acceptance of Christ. My brother died the next morning.
I don't believe for a minute that my brother had some deathbed conversion. He had known for some time that he was dying. He had other health issues that put him low on the list for a liver transplant. He'd had some serious talks with his daughter, who was in her last year of college, to make sure she understood that he wasn't going to be around much longer. He didn't want any church funeral, didn't care what we did as long as he had a closed casket and could be buried in jeans and his favorite sweatshirt. (I wrote and gave the eulogy, made 'em laugh and made 'em cry.)
But his daughter was raised Catholic by her maternal grandmother (my brother's ex is still alive and still a junkie at 69, brain burnt to a crisp), and I believe that he took the Communion and the last rites from a Catholic priest when the opportunity presented itself because it would give the person he loved most some peace, with the added sidebar of giving a bit of that peace to our mother, too.
My mother died in 2020, and last year we cleaned out and sold her house. During the standard search to see if there were any liens against the property, it was discovered that there was an outstanding hospital bill for my brother for $1800 from 2001 that our mother must have signed for when she took him on one of his hospital trips. He was probably supposed to pay it and never did. We were three months short of the 20 years when the claim would no longer have been valid, but for $1800 we weren't going to delay the sale of the house, so we just paid it. He got us one last time!
Yeah my wife's ex was dying of Hep C at about the same age as your bro when he was helped along by falling asleep at the wheel (due to Hep C) and died in that accident (fortunately not taking anyone else with him, either passenger or other vehicles). Like your brother, he'd had a short needle-sharing addict phase decades earlier. It has been a little bittersweet for both my wife and I that our ex's died of complications of incurable diseases, one of which is now a mere decade or so later at least nominally curable, and the other is at least accepted and recognized as legit and the cause is now known.
Yeah, except he grew up to be a big stinker. He had a drug habit for a time. Stole our jewelry, my mother's silverware, did B&Es around town until he robbed the people next door and pawned a diamond ring at the only pawnshop in town, which was right across the street from the police station. When the cops went to the pawnshop and found the ring and asked if they could describe the person who brought it in, the owner said, "Sure, it's the electrician who's doing work in your police station."
Talk about wanting to get caught.
He did have a conscience. He later told me that he couldn't believe how many people hide money and jewelry in the same places--inside a Bible, in the freezer, taped under a drawer. "Take Ben and Helen next door. They had $300 and a bunch of expensive jewelry just lying there in a drawer in the bedroom! I took just $50 and the one ring because that would get me high for the day. They were lucky they were robbed by a friend!"
Twenty-five years later, the Hep C he didn't know he had picked up from a needle during his short stint as a junkie killed him at the age of 51. In the interim, he'd married and divorced but had a daughter who he lived for. He worked hard and smoked weed all day and drank too much at night, but he never went back to heroin.
The night before he died, he was in the hospital with my mother and one of our sisters, and a priest was administering communion to the man in the bed next door. The priest stopped and looked at my brother and asked if he was a Christian. My brother said "yes", at which my sister laughed and said "You are NOT". He'd always been clear that he had no belief in a God. He ignored her and told the priest, "But I am not a Catholic." Priest said, "Would you like to take Communion?" and my brother said "Yes", and so the priest gave Communion to this atheist who had never been Catholic and said the last rites of the Catholic Church over him.
My Protestant mother was so happy to witness this apparent end-of-life acceptance of Christ. My brother died the next morning.
I don't believe for a minute that my brother had some deathbed conversion. He had known for some time that he was dying. He had other health issues that put him low on the list for a liver transplant. He'd had some serious talks with his daughter, who was in her last year of college, to make sure she understood that he wasn't going to be around much longer. He didn't want any church funeral, didn't care what we did as long as he had a closed casket and could be buried in jeans and his favorite sweatshirt. (I wrote and gave the eulogy, made 'em laugh and made 'em cry.)
But his daughter was raised Catholic by her maternal grandmother (my brother's ex is still alive and still a junkie at 69, brain burnt to a crisp), and I believe that he took the Communion and the last rites from a Catholic priest when the opportunity presented itself because it would give the person he loved most some peace, with the added sidebar of giving a bit of that peace to our mother, too.
My mother died in 2020, and last year we cleaned out and sold her house. During the standard search to see if there were any liens against the property, it was discovered that there was an outstanding hospital bill for my brother for $1800 from 2001 that our mother must have signed for when she took him on one of his hospital trips. He was probably supposed to pay it and never did. We were three months short of the 20 years when the claim would no longer have been valid, but for $1800 we weren't going to delay the sale of the house, so we just paid it. He got us one last time!
It is a sad story, but a great write up. Submit it!
Last edited by mensaguy; 06-25-2022 at 10:21 AM..
Reason: Fixed quote tag
Yeah my wife's ex was dying of Hep C at about the same age as your bro when he was helped along by falling asleep at the wheel (due to Hep C) and died in that accident (fortunately not taking anyone else with him, either passenger or other vehicles). Like your brother, he'd had a short needle-sharing addict phase decades earlier. It has been a little bittersweet for both my wife and I that our ex's died of complications of incurable diseases, one of which is now a mere decade or so later at least nominally curable, and the other is at least accepted and recognized as legit and the cause is now known.
Oh well!
Yeah, my older brother died in 2006. A few years later, and I know it was 2009-2010 because I was working on the WTC PATH Hub rebuild at that time, one of the PMs there was taking Interferon for her Hep C. She'd apparently been an IV drug user at some point. She is still around, because I saw on Linked-In not long ago an announcement of a promotion wherever she works now
Sometimes it's done on a smaller scale. When I was a teenager, they found a youth minister for the church, hoping to get the last straggling remnants of teens to remain at the church. My parents were very active in the church and so I had to go to the new youth group that was formed.
The new youth minister assured us that he was cool and that we would not only do Bible studies and prayers and services, we could do fun things, too. In fact, he mentioned that there was going to be a Frank Zappa concert in the area, and if we'd all like to go, we could give him the money and he would get the tickets. The next week we brought him our money for the concert tickets. And never saw him again.
I have to say, with the events of the past couple weeks, the rollback of decades of progress on multiple fronts by SCOTUS (not just abortion rights, but whether religious schools get public funds, whether public schools should permit or promote religious practices) -- plus some openly religious politicians openly advocating for theocratic fascism -- I must confess that after years of indifference I now DO want to "end" or "stop" some kinds of religion a little bit.
We are limited to what extent we can discuss it here because of the arbitrary attempt to separate political and religious issues -- as if this is even possible anymore in the US -- but I will say that I am becoming a little bit radicalized against some forms of religion whereas before I was not. Because now religion isn't just trying to force its practices on persons outside itself -- it's starting to succeed at some scale.
Make of it what you will.
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