But the day of Bible School I remember the best was the day the minister over at the Missionary Baptist Church gave a sermon to us kids about being saved. The sermon was kinda high tech. He took some murky, blood-like liquid, mixed it in a measuring cup with some other liquid, and voila! the murky liquid was clear, saved by grace from sin. But then he asked a question: "How many of you are SAVED? How many of you would go to Heaven if you died right NOW?".
In our Methodist church, we didn't get asked this question a lot.
We typically made maracas rather than declarations about our immortal souls, and sometimes played drop the handkerchief, red light green light, red rover or Mother May I during the breaks. So it probably is no surprise that every Baptist kid in the audience shot their hand straight up high into the air, while my hand stayed resolutely down. At the time, I felt so badly--how could they be so sure? How could I be so much in doubt? But now, I look back at myself, and like myself just a little, because I didn't try to believe for the sake of fitting in.
