we're happier than everyone else

We got roped into attending a Baptist church's Christmas choir performance today, as my father-in-law was playing in the orchestra. Not our cup of tea, but we wanted to go at least to support him. You know, the "the relationship is most important" mantra I'm trying to use to negotiate this Mormon-EvilAtheist divide in the family.

I sat down with my already bad attitude about Christmas this year, wanting to just get this obligation over. And don't start thinking I'm foreshadowing to a big change of heart where I realized my inner love for Baptist Christmas music, either. 'Cause this ain't about that.

Recognizing my attitude, that I was there to fail to enjoy anything, I tried to soften up and just appreciate the music. Last year I would have appreciated it. I tried through "Go Tell It On The Mountain," and through "Angels We Have Heard on High" (which used to be my favorite Christmas hymn), and through a "Joy to the World" arrangement.

I kept reminding myself that it was just a religious celebration. Could've been Islamic recitations or Jewish singing or of any other tradition, and I would've appreciated it. But I just couldn't get into it. I couldn't get past the baggage. The Christianity. The history and traditions I have rejected.

Maybe if it had been only music and song, it would have been okay. But they had to throw in those proselytizing moments, too. Showing how wonderfully happy Baptists are above other Christians and those poor, lost scoffing non-believers. How Baptists have that special light, that special something-something people recognize in them, but can't quite put their finger on. It sounded all too familiar. The same attitude as a Mormon one, just presented in slightly different terminology.

That non-believer was not giving an substantial arguments, either. He was just a straw man, speaking nothing but what was easy to "answer."

"Nah, there's nothing after death. When you're dead, you're dead!"
"Oh, no! When we die, we got to heaven with Jesus! And we live there in His love forever."
"Oh, really? What was I thinking? Gosh, that'd be great to go to heaven. How do I get there?"

The killer was when the Christian-who-isn't-good-enough-because-he-only-attends-on-Christmas-and-Easter said there must be something to the Jesus story, since it's such an old story. "If people have been telling the story for 2000 years, it can't be just a fairy tale!" Wow, what an argument. 'Cause the story of Zeus? How old is that one? And how long were Egyptians worshiping Amon-Ra? And does that mean the Muhammad's story is only 600 years less of a fairy tale than Jesus'? So if you're going to judge by how old the religion is, should we all be embracing nature worship or something?

After that little proselytizing session, my husband and I were rolling our eyes and decided to sneak out with our son the first chance we got. And we did.