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Number of posts: 4
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By Kristie Macrakis:
no atheists in hell
It was hard to resist the Morganton Baptist Church marquee headline I saw a couple of weeks ago during my Sunday bike ride: “There are no atheists in hell… they believe.” How could a pagan agnostic not walk into that one? Was it going to be feet first into a cauldron of fire? Dante’s Inferno, I wondered?
So last Sunday, I ditched the bike ride because of rain, took a shower and put on my Sunday best to blend in better with the congregation.
Riding my bike up and down the hills of old highway 76 in Morganton, GA, in the North Georgia mountains, I come across six churches within a six mile stretch of the ride interspersed between pastures of grazing horses and bovine cows and hills and meadows decorated with farm houses and log cabins. I wonder what the services are like, who the people are, what they believe in and why they survive in our secular age.
It is not unusual to see a church on every street corner in Georgia.
seem a fetish
There is a store in the North Georgia Mountains called “Drug and Gun.” I’ve been meaning to revisit the shop to ask the cashier if customers buy their anti-psychotic drugs before or after they buy a gun. But when I walk in and see the word “prescriptions” behind the gun counter, I ask the clerk jokingly, “Do I need a prescription to buy a gun?” A man behind me says, “actually that would be a good idea. “ And I agree: if Americans need a prescription for Prozac, why not for pistols?
But there is one problem: changing the mind of people entrenched in a culture of guns.
Do You Really Know Your Friends?
When I moved to Boston’s Beacon Hill during my sabbatical year 2007-08, I knew the Cheers jingle “where everyone knows your name,” but I never imagined that by the end of the year, my jingle would be “where everyone knows your name, but it might not be the real one. “
Clark Rockefeller turned out to be just one assumed name in an ever-multiplying list of aliases he adopted, like Christopher Chichester, Chris Crowe, Michael Brown, James Frederick, and Charles “Chip” Smith.
Clark was an active member of a Beacon Hill group I belonged to called “Café Society,” a caffeinated version of Cheers that met at the Starbucks on Charles St. in Beacon Hill.
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