We lived in Newark, Ohio, for ten months in 2004-2005. By this point, I was done with the ministry. We decided to look for a church we could call home; one that would embrace our family and give us opportunities to serve. We thought Jersey Reformed Baptist Church in Jersey, Ohio, was that church. Sadly, a few months later, we were out the door, looking for another church to attend.
Jersey was a young, growing church. Lots of big families. Our family of eight was considered “normal” at Jersey, though we eventually learned that their definition of “normal” was different from ours.
Most church families homeschooled their children, as did we. Jersey was a family- focused congregation. No Sunday school or children’s church. Families worshipped together. A good idea, even to this day.
Jersey was Calvinistic in doctrine, Fundamentalist in practice, and Reformed Baptist in affiliation. We were quite conservative at the time, but we learned Jersey, as a congregation, was far more to the right than we were on many issues.
Most of the women in the church were stay-at-home moms. Many of them had home businesses to supplement family income. Our family was different. I was disabled, unable to work a full-time job. We needed money — such a novel idea, right? — so Polly took a full- time job cleaning offices for Start Farm. The highlight of our time in Newark was Friday nights. We would splurge for two $5.00 pizzas from Little Caesar’s. Fine dining, at its best. 😜
One Sunday, after church, we were having a friendly discussion with a handful of members, mostly women. The members were curious about us, so they asked us questions about our family. I told them I was disabled, and unable to work. Polly, with nary a thought, happily shared that she worked full-time at State Farm. Immediately, the climate changed, as did their looks. We knew then that we had broken one of the “rules.”
Around the same time, I attended a men’s prayer meeting. Someone brought up praying for Terri Schiavo, a woman in an irreversible permanent vegetative state. Schiavo was in the news virtually every day.
Wikipedia states:
Schiavo’s husband and legal guardian argued that Schiavo would not have wanted prolonged artificial life support without the prospect of recovery, and, in 1998, he elected to remove her feeding tube. Schiavo’s parents disputed her husband’s assertions and challenged Schiavo’s medical diagnosis, arguing in favor of continuing artificial nutrition and hydration.The highly publicized and prolonged series of legal challenges presented by her parents, which ultimately involved state and federal politicians up to the level of George W. Bush (the then U.S. president), caused a seven-year delay (until 2005) before Schiavo’s feeding tube was ultimately removed.
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After appeals through the federal court system that upheld the original decision to remove the feeding tube, staff at the Pinellas Park hospice facility disconnected the feeding tube on March 18, 2005, and Schiavo died on March 31, 2005.
The prayer meeting took place before Schiavo’s feeding tube was permanently removed. Every man, except one, was praying for Schiavo’s tube to be permanently put back in, “saving” her life. Saving what life? I thought at the time. The church men disagreed, believing that Schiavo should be artificially kept alive regardless if she regained consciousness and function. Schiavo was an idol worshiped by the pro-life movement. In their mind, she should be kept alive at all costs. To do otherwise was “murder.”
As I mentioned above, there was one man who disagreed with the rest of the men, and that was me. I made clear my thoughts on the issue: Schiavo had a right to die, as we all do. Unfortunately, pro-life Christians oppose the right to die, even if someone is terminal or suffering.
Eventually, prayers were offered to the Evangelical God on behalf of Schiavo, but I suspect only one prayer was for her to have a swift, painless death. A short time later, God answered my prayer.
A few days later I had a discussion with the pastor. He was thoughtful and polite—I always enjoyed his preaching— but by the end, I knew it was time for us to look for a different church to attend.
This would be the only time that we weren’t conservative enough for a church. Three years later, we left Christianity for good.
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