“SWM seeks dress-wearing pianist for ministry possibilities. Must possess own piano …”

(I would like to apologize in advance for the sidebar ads this is likely to generate)

And when it shall come to pass that thy loins shall have born fruit and that the size of thy household shall greatly increase that then shalt thou heed the words of the commandments concerning how thy children shall behave when there’s anybody watching. And of the church and the restaurant and of the grocery store thou shalt strike into thy child a great fear and overwhelming dread for in these places thy children’s behavior shall be as thy own testimony as a parent and everyone is watching.

Beware, for in that day when it shall come to pass that they child shall be loud or whine or be in any way stubborn in resisting thy commands then shall the entire world know that thou are a BAD PARENT and thy shame shall be upon thee. For nobody in the real world has ever had one of their own children act up or misbehave or talk back and they shall in anywise believe that thou art not a true Christian and thy testimony of the tract thou shalt hand them shall be ruined and their eternal soul shall be forever lost. And what’s worse, if thou art a missionary family you might lose support.

And so shalt thou do, that thou shalt take unto thyself a rod or a board, or a wooden spoon and thou shalt keep it in thy car so that thou mayest invite thy child to “go have a talk in the car” with thee if she shall misbehave.But thou shalt in anywise keep the secret of thy discipline from the public for when Child Protective Services gets involved, things becometh yea verily a mess. So shalt thy hide the implements of destruction from plain sight and only thou and thy children shall know what pain lieth in wait for them if they screw up.

And if someone shall enquire as to the secret of how thy eight children doth sit quietly without speaking at thy local Denny’s then shalt thou simply smile and say “We try to raise our children to glorify God” and forgo to mention exactly how that works. For of the making of sausages and of always perfectly behaved children people may like the result but they never really want to know the process of how they are made.

Independent Baptist Book of Everlasting Rules and Requirements, p 95

Sometime between birth and Bible college, almost every fundamentalist youngster is dragged up before the church congregation and prayed over before they are eaten. Seriously though, the actual practice is that they are prayed over to “dedicate them to the Lord” and as a sign to the congregation that the community of the church has a responsibility to pray for this child to watch for their soul. It’s also a sign that the parents are going to maintain their sacred fundy trust by muting all the TV commercials during the evening news lest the child hear the rock music played therein and desire in his infant heart to dance which is the first step on the road to degradation.

There are a couple of different ways in which the dedication goes down. In larger churches there is often a designated Sunday or two per year where the kids are dressed up and paraded in front of the church to a chorus of “ooohs” and “aaaah” from the crowd. This is affectionately known as the “Baby Parade” and is used as a draw to get Catholic grandmas and reprobate uncles to darken the door of the fundy church in order to watch this totally symbolic action.

In smaller churches, however, baby dedications may be performed as needed on the first possible Sunday after the child is born. Unless, of course, the church has its own midwife station set up behind the church bookstore just for those people who never miss church for any reason. “It’s a boy! Quick, run him on down to the altar!” The father then crosses the goal line, high-fives the pastor, and spikes the baby in the end zone.

It’s worth noting that many paedo-baptist folks will readily recognize that this whole dedication business is in reality a “dry baptism.” There’s even a certificate. Shhhhh. Don’t tell the Baptists.

Below are the links to a survey engineered by Gothard to let you know how good a job you and your teen are doing at staving off the forces of darkness.

I started filling in the answers but got bored after page 4. You all can take a crack at filling in the rest.

(page 1)(page 2)(page 3)(page 4)(page 5)(page 6)(page 7)(page 8)(page 9)(Back Cover)

many thanks to supernova8610 for doing the work of scanning these in.

It may be the time of year when the world falls in love but if you’re a young fundamentalist the course of love never runs smoothly. If you happen to have the fortune to be in a fundy camp where “dating” is not considered to be a dirty word, it still doesn’t mean that your romantic endeavors will be anything less than awkward and strange.

The main problem is that there just isn’t a whole lot of space to get to know someone in the confines of the fundy dating scheme. Dinner at a nice restaurant? Only if you bring two chaperons (and pay for their meals). Take in a movie? You must be joking. Bible conference? Ah! Now there’s a real fundy approved dating venue. Nothing says romance quite like listening to an evangelist yell.

In fact, other than sitting with the object of your affection’s parents in their living room watching The Sound of Music, church and Christian school activities are really about the only other approved dating venues. Parks, beaches, public streets and Walmart are locations much too fraught with temptation to allow young people to hang out there together unsupervised. Even if they’re 36.

Good luck having those heart to heart moments where you share all your hopes and dreams and say silly things as those in love are wont to do. Hopefully, your chaperons have the decency to pretend not to notice.

I just wanted to drop you a line and say that I have met a very nice
young man. His name is Titus. He is an older brother of a friend of
my brother, Uriah. We are the same age and he is in graduate school
at The Conservative College. He is getting a Master’s Degree in
Pastoral Theology. His mother was sick when he was in high school and
when he graduated, it was God’s will that he go to a local Junior
College for two years. He was able to be available to help his mother
and father out. His time there doesn’t seem to have turned him into
an atheist, so I am thankful for that. I have heard that it can be
hard to resist the pressure from all the communist student
organizations at those state institutions.

He came to visit his brother who is doing some work with a local
evangelist while he saves money for school (Uriah also works for this
evangelist on his website store). While Titus was here, he and I (and
all my other brothers, of course) went to get ice cream, ride go-carts
(I am so glad I finally sewed that long black skirt and could wear
it!), visit the zoo, and attend church. We even got to share a
hymnal. He is an honorable man so he did not try to hold my hand
under the hymnal, like I’ve heard of some other boys trying to do.

He is back at school and has asked if he could write me. I told him
yes. He says it will probably be through the snail mail because he
wants his letters to be saved for posterity. I think that is so
romantic. He talked to my Father and asked if it was okay to write me
and that his intentions were to get to know me. Courtship via mail.
Father agreed that this was probably the best thing to do.

Titus is very cute. He is tall and has green eyes. He has never had
braces on his teeth, but you can’t even tell! They are as straight as
anything!

In between the ice cream and go-carts, we got to talk a little about
finding the right one. We had a lot in common in that area. Neither
one of us has dated anyone and we think that it’s akin to divorce to
date and then break up. I told him that my one goal in life is to be
a happy homemaker. He smiled and said that would be his goal for me,
as well. I think he means that he is very serious about getting to
know me and courting me!!!

Anyway, I just remembered that I had said in the little questionaire
that I wasn’t courting anyone. Well, now I am.

Blessings to you in the name of our Lord (and Savior) Jesus Christ,
CampMeetingGirl

In fundamentalism, ministry is a family business. The preacher’s wife plays the piano. The preacher’s younger son leads the singing while the elder runs the youth group. The preacher’s daughter manages the nursery. Each one ensures that the leader has a tight leash on every department in the organization.

Some day when dad is finally called home to his reward, one of the sons will pick up where he left off, often regaling the congregation with tales of “what dad once said.” An aspiring preacher boy will be lucky enough to marry this great man’s daughter and leverage that name recognition into his own ministerial conquests. (The other son will get gender realignment surgery and start a band in Hoboken, NJ — but we’ll never hear about him).

A good name may be more desirable than great riches but in fundamentalism it’s unlikely you’ll have one without the other. As for the rest of you rabble, if you’re not blessed enough to have such a pedigree, good luck keeping up with the Joneses.

Whenever someone apostatizes and leaves the old paths, fundamentalists will inevitably assign someone the blame. There will be an informal postmortem, inquest, and a whispered placing of the blame on someone’s shoulders for having led this soul astray. More often than not the culpability is rested on the shoulders of the fundamentalist parents.

It is a strange contradiction that fundamentalists can at the same time believe that every man has free will but also that no child raised “properly” will ever stray from the fundy faith. It can’t have been that the fundamentalist movement was flawed or illogical or provoked this young person to wrath. No indeed, it’s much more likely that this rebellion was inspired by the way their parents spared the rod or allowed them to have Disney characters on their third grade lunch box.

For this reason, parents in the fundamentalist realm will often preach to their children not only the doctrines of separation and standards but also heap upon them the warning that if the child’s foot should stray that he will bring a reproach on his family’s honor that will never be removed. His father may lose his deaconship. His mother may lose her place on the women’s missionary committee. The family dog may even lose the right to frolic with more upright and holier dogs.

Train up  a child in the way that he should go and when he is old if he has departed from it we’ll definitely be blaming your parenting. (Unless, of course, you’re a pastor who is among the congregation of the blessed. Then we’ll be far too polite to mention it.)

Nothing can chill the blood in the veins of an ex-fundamentalist than the words “Hey, honey, your fundy relations are coming for dinner.”

The time spent with your fundamentalist relatives can be the some of the most painfully awkward hours of your life. The steps to the intricate dance of fundy social interaction are complex and fraught with peril. For example, whatever you do don’t mention dancing.

Hiding your ESV and books by Dan Brown are only the start. There’s also the way you’re dressed, where and what you eat, how long you should pray beforehand, and above all else, the topics of conversation.

That last item is by far the most dangerous one, for the fundy ear is tuned to pick up the slightest hint of liberalism and compromise. The simplest conversation can turn into a minefield of condemnation.

You: “So we were at the store last night…”

Fundy Relation:  “Last night was Sunday. Weren’t you in church?”

As quick as that a perfectly pleasant conversation can turn into an inquisition that will leave you screaming for the gentle mercies of the torture chamber. Tread lightly.

Among the topics to avoid are: books, movies, music, theology, work, family, friends, politics, current events, television, theater, or the internet. Even talking about childhood memories will only serve to highlight how far you’ve backslidden in the meantime.  In short, if you value your sanity, you’re pretty much stuck with the weather and four hours of making indeterminate noises of affirmation as you hear tales from the heart of fundyland.

Screw your courage to the sticking place and prepare to chit-chat pleasantly for all you’re worth.  Just remember, no matter how awkward it may be you can rejoice in the fact that when your relations leave they’re not taking you with them back to fundyland.