Every once in a while something happens to remind me of just how strange my religious childhood was.
We didn’t have a television. We listened to Yankee games on the radio. I remember at least one year in the 80’s we listened to the Super Bowl on the radio. And we listened to Family Radio. Every Saturday morning we tuned in for Big Jon and Sparkie. The dramatic stories on Unshackled were another favorite.
But here’s the thing. We thought Harold Camping was a liberal. We (a sub-group of the Plymouth Brethren) were the faithful remnant. Harold Camping was part of “Christendom,” which had sold its soul. Camping’s salvation was questionable.
I’m a long way from home.