So I was reading Mark Hunter’s blog about the Memorial Service, and it got me to thinking about my childhood as a Witness and wondering if my experience was unique.  I remember the Memorial Service as being a really significant day, close to being considered “holy” except that we would have never used that term --- it sounded too much like all the other churches we were trying not to be.

But anyway, the Memorial Service was a big deal and here’s what I remember.  I remember the cup of wine being passed over my lap, and knowing I couldn’t touch it.  I remember the unleavened bread not looking like anything I wanted to eat.  I remember the elderly lady in our southern California congregation who was the only person I ever saw to drink of the wine.  I remember everyone in the place watching her as she sipped wine and quietly chewed on the bread.  I remember being told that she knew she was a member of the 144,000, and I remember asking how she knew.  I remember the answer being, “She just knew.”

I remember the Memorial Service in a tiny little Wyoming congregation after my family left California, and I remember that no one in that service drank of the wine.  I remember wondering if someone would take the wine home for dinner after the service.  I remember the first time I was allowed to touch the cup and plate as I passed them down the aisle --- a rite of passage to be old enough to finally touch the holy meal.  I remember wondering what would happen if I took a sip…actually, that’s not true.  I knew what would happen.  There would be hell to pay for daring to break the holy ritual.  My father would have beaten the hell out of me and my stepmother Fluffy would have threatened to make me go without dinner for a week, but I imagined myself explaining to everyone that I was planning to go to heaven.  I thought I would tell them that I just knew that I was one of the 144,000, except I didn’t really, knowing that I was gay at that age and knowing I wasn’t even going to make it into the New Order, let alone heaven.  And somehow I knew that only old people claimed to be members of the 144,000.

 

Today, I wonder if a teenager has ever partaken in the meal, and if not, why not.  And I wonder how many people from Wyoming have made it to heaven.  And I wonder if it’s kind of full up there.  It seems to me that the entire 144,000 should have found their way to heaven by now.  

Is there room for anyone else?

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