VBS

I'm not a particularly religious person. I've only seen the inside of a church once this year (hello, Easter), and I probably won't see it again until Christmas.

But my nephew goes to a church pre-school, and I dropped him off there last week. Mark helped me herd him through the courtyard and in to the classroom (he's tiny but quick). As we passed through the gates, Mark pointed at a sign and asked what VBS is.

"It stands for 'vacation Bible school,'" I told him.

He raised his eyebrows and said, "Doesn't sound like much of a vacation to me."

I gently reminded him that he had, indeed, attended Bible school once, when he was five. And he liked it so much, he tried to get saved.

I hadn't meant to send him there. I sent him to daycare, and found out as I was leaving that he was going on a field trip. For the entire week.

I was livid--I was paying the babysitter an outrageous sum, because no one else wanted to take on the challenge of a "medically fragile" kid. (I've learned needles freak people out, especially when they have to jab one in a squirrelly little kid.) I was not happy she was sending him off to learn religion; that was my job to teach, if I felt so inclined.

But since I didn't have any other childcare, I sucked it up. It's not like I had to go myself.

Except that I did, on the last night. I picked Mark up at the church, where I realized that between the bouncy tent and the free-flowing pizza slices, I'd never get him outta there. And before I could catch him, I was being ushered into the church for some service.

Mark sat up front with the other kids from daycare, and I hid in the back row, trying not to yawn too obviously. I sat through the service, and barely perked up until the end, when they asked for volunteers to come up and receive a blessing.

"Anyone can come up!" they announced. "All you need is some love in your heart, and the desire to be born again, to rid yourself of sin!"

No one was biting, so I scanned the crowd for Mark. I wanted to make a quick, discreet exit. Unfortunately, my plan immediately failed, as I heard the pastor plead for volunteers, and saw a group rise and head toward the pulpit.

They had linked arms, and were calling out, "I wanna be saved! I want Jesus in my heart!" The church applauded them, encouraging them on, which only emboldened them, and made them yell louder. It was all pretty amusing, until suddenly I realized that there in the middle of them all, was my five-year-old son. My about-to-be-born-again son. I needed to be born again, too, when I saw that, since my heart stopped right then and there.

I don't know who raced toward the pulpit faster, me or the babysitter, once she realized all her charges were about to be saved. She quickly guided the group out a side door, where I met up with Mark.

"How wonderful!" a man called out to me. "What a wonderful young man you're raising up in the spirit!" He raised a Bible and smiled big, and I knew the sales pitch was coming, and I had to get out of there quick. I searched for a way out to the car, but there were smiling volunteers all around the courtyard. It would take a miracle from God to get me outta there.

"Thanks," I said, racing past him. "He is a good kid!" And I waved away brochures and lollipops he offered in exchange for saving my soul back in the church. I yanked Mark away, knowing he'd immediately sell his soul for a lollipop.

And so, last week, when Mark mentioned VBS, I reminded him that he'd had his chance. And that he wasn't likely to get another one...unless, of course, the volunteers at Johnny's school were as quick on their toes as Johnny was.