Who Says It's A Sin?

A Creative Writing course I took many years ago stressed the importance of writing what you know. If a story is to be believable, the setting should be based on real places and the characters should be created with friends, lovers, acquaintances and enemies from the writer's life. Events should reflect the writer's feelings about actual situations he has encountered. The course instructor was also big on motivation. "Think about your Mo-ti-VA-shun for writing this particular story", he always intoned.

So I thought about my "Mo-ti-VA-shun" as I began to formulate my story. Pondering the politics and the social conditions which have led us to where we are today led me to consider how my own life and experience is reflected in my disgust about the situation and my passion to do something to change it.

The guidance of a parent who encouraged thinking for one's self and standing up for one's convictions was a blessing and advantage I'm grateful to have had. It has served me well throughout life and continues to be the basis of my value system. I learned not to take things at face value, not to automatically believe something just because "everyone else" did and to understand that opinions are only as good as the facts upon which they are based.

I grew up in Idaho; a staunchly conservative state long governed by a Republican majority. The predominant religious influence comes from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (LDS), or Mormons, as they're commonly known. The tenets of the church include the prohibition of "stimulants" such as caffeine and "harmful substances" such as alcohol and nicotine. Of course Mormons don't drink or smoke (at least not where anyone might see them) and they've never been shy about castigating those who do.

During elementary school years, my playmates in the neighborhood where we lived and school I attended were mostly from Mormon families. My younger brother and I went to the First Christian Church with my mother and grandmother. I was six years old the first time I encountered the idea that something I enjoyed was "sinful" and I didn't hear it in Sunday School or a sermon from the minister of the church where I went.

One of the girls in our neighborhood had a birthday party that was held in the park a few blocks away and included splashing in the swimming pool followed by a wiener roast at the barbecue pit. With supervision from Sharon's father, a dozen or so little guests put hotdogs on pointed sticks and held them close enough to the fire to get black on the outside, then took them back to the picnic table.

Sharon's mother and some other ladies who were there, allowed each of us to get paper plates and buns and to add mustard and ketchup to our hot-dogs if we wanted it; but we all had to wait until everyone was at the table so we could fold our arms and say a prayer before we ate.

Next to the big birthday cake decorated with yellow and pink roses, was a plastic punch bowl containing a syrupy-sweet orange drink with no ice. The birthday girl got to ladle some into little plastic cups and serve her guests. I was quite thirsty, but one sip told me the orange stuff wasn't the answer, so I excused myself from the table and took my coin purse to the concession stand near the swimming pool. I brought back an ice cold Coca-Cola in a telltale red paper cup. The excited, girlish chatter stopped as I sat down again and everyone stared at me.

I decided maybe I had been rude and said quietly, "I'm sorry, does anyone else want a Coke? I think I have enough money."

One of the girls said loudly, "My dad says it's a SIN and anybody who drinks Coca Cola will go straight to H-E-double toothpicks!"

Sharon's mother shook her head and smiled at me. "Katie and her family don't go to our church, so they probably don't know Our Heavenly Father doesn't want us to put anything in our mouths that might hurt us. Now she knows, I'm sure she'll do the right thing and put it in the trash instead." My face was hot with embarrassment and I had tears in my eyes, besides which I was still very thirsty, but I did what I was told.

I was fortunate to have a wise and wonderful mother, who soothed my distress about the incident and helped me see it as a lesson in tolerance. My tolerance of others' ideas, that is - and ways to deal with their intolerance of mine. I don't remember her exact words. She probably used pretty simple terms to explain differences in religious beliefs and teachings; and whatever she said assured me that drinking Coca-Cola, coffee or tea was not something most churches considered a sin, so I shouldn't worry about it.

"But what should I say when people tell me that", I remember asking, "Can I tell them it's a lie?"

"No, because they aren't really lying since they believe it is the truth", she said. "You could say something like 'I won't tell you what to drink because it's not hurting me and you don't tell me what to drink since it's not hurting you.' "

Simple advice that usually worked in situations involving only other children my age, but when they brought their parents into it, religious dogma and attempts to convert always complicated matters. It got so I dreaded being around them. I didn't hate the Mormons, I just got tired of their constant attempts to make me one of them. The easiest solution was to distance myself from them and find other friends, so that's what I did.

Throughout my life, my inclination has been to follow that wise old advice to live and let live. I believe that to be the foundation of a commitment to individual freedom and personal responsibility. But when the direction of society is influenced by forces that work to overturn the concept of Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness, the time has come to fight back.