I got Jehovah’d the weekend after Easter! It was short and sweet.
So, anyway, a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses rocked up to my door the Saturday morning after Easter. As per usual (going by my personal experience of their visits), there was an older, experienced woman who did all the talking and a young girl in her teens, standing behind her. Often the younger sidekick in these situations looks domesticated and completely converted but this girl looked, well, embarrassed. She plainly did not want to be there. After I shut the beagle up, the elder began her friendly spiel. I present our conversation in its entirety:
“Good morning! We’d like today to ask if we can take a few minutes to discuss the amazing sacrifice of Jesus and perhaps leave you with this newsletter. We know that lots of people have been celebrating Easter with the usual bunnies and eggs and – “
“Ah, yes, that would be me. Not today, thanks!”
And then she politely thanked me and left, politely shutting the gate behind her, to a fusillade of raucous barking from the beagle (anyone who’s been bayed at by a beagle will know that, for their size, they can make a mofo of a racket – even mine, who’s a bit wee. I think it’s that big barrel chest they’ve got). For her troubles, the beagle got way more cuddles than she usually gets for barking at visitors.
It occurred to me immediately afterwards, especially in light of the extreme boredom and embarrassment on the face of the sidekick, that I could have played the curmudgeon (actually, to be fair, it occurred to Mrs M first, who was listening from the bedroom). I could have raised, for example, the fact that the reason we celebrate Easter on a different day each year and not the actual day of the execution is because (a) noone knows the “real day” for very good reasons and (b) the Romans – who killed Jesus – later appropriated for Jesus’ death the vernal equinox and end of winter, originally dedicated to the spring goddess Esther (whence cometh “Easter” and eggs as symbols of new life) and which was based on the pagan lunar calendar, exactly as they did with Winter Solstice and Jesus’ birthday (no doubt this was done to cover the most important pagan events with the most important Christian events, entrenching Christianity as the official state religion). As an aside, I always thought it very clever how the Romans appropriated these pagan festivals: “Alright everyone! Attention please! Continue what you’re doing with the feasting and revelry and raucous behvaiour. Just know that it’s no longer about the moon or anything – it’s about Jesus! OK? Whaddya mean “who”? Never you mind, just put your face back in that roast boar and we’ll talk about it on Sunday! Goodnight everyone! See you at winter sols – I mean ‘Christmas!'” I might even have raised the logical silliness of a god needing to have his own self/son/avatar tortured and sacrificed to himself in order to forgive his entire creation for an ancient sin he, in his presumed omniscience, had to know the first two humans would commit and whose preconditions (a tree containing forbidden fruit which was nonetheless openly accessible to naive humans who didn’t actually know right from wrong, pain from pleasure or life from death) and antagonist (serpent) he created. Well, maybe El Shaddai/Jehovah/God wasn’t omniscient in the Garden of Eden (which is pretty lame), but still … leaving the most dangerous tree in the forest unguarded and in full view of (a) your naive human pets and (b) the only malevolent creature in existence? Dude, SERIOUSLY. You don’t have to be omniscient to see a clusterfuck of significant magnitude happening in the near future. I’m not omniscient and I know enough not to paint a smiley clown face saying “feed me” on a power point and leave a fork next to it.
But honestly. Who can be buggered? Once you’re knocking on doors – on a frickin perfectly decent Saturday morning – trying to convert scruffy idiots like me, you’re likely too far gone for reason to be able to reach you. However, I do wonder about the sidekick on this occasion. That she looked bored and embarrassed like a normal teenager, rather than wide-eyed and domesticated like your average Fresian, makes me think I should have kicked something off, at least just to give her a giggle. Maybe she was just doing a favour for her grandma and wasn’t a total convert, after all. Maybe I could have pushed her toward the “light”. Oh well, too late now. But it does make me wonder about all the other sidekicks out there and how many are going along with their faith just to make the olds happy. Probably, optimistically, loads. If mine were religious, it’s likely what I would’ve done, keeping my heathen thoughts secret. Well, maybe not if they made me get up and bother people on a Saturday morning. That would have started some shit.