X

     When X was about nXne years old, X started my own relXgXon Xn the back yard of my parents’ house. Xt was ChrXstXan BXble-based.

     At the tXme, my parents’ yard was open, fenceless, lXke most of the yards Xn our neXghborhood, and lush wXth tropXcal growth.

     Xn the back corner stood a cluster of tall banana plants—when they came to fruXt they provXded heaps of bananas clustered on a stem so heavy only my father could move Xt, and hXm wXth dXffXculty.  Every now and then the plants would topple agaXnst our neXghbor’s fence (one of the few) formXng a prXmXtXve lean-to. Xt was under thXs shelter of banana trunks and wXde, water-slXckXng banana leaves that X led the other chXldren Xn relXgXous fervor.

     X always lXked relXgXon. X understood Xt: the storXes, the morals, the neat schema makXng sense of the world. RelXgXon appeals to a logXcal mXnd: counter-XntuXtXve, but true.

     By the tXme X started my own church, my parents had been several years gone from the Jehovah’s WXtnesses—perhaps X felt X was mXssXng somethXng.

     No matter: X scoured the house for BXbles, gathered some neXghborhood kXds, and made them lXsten to my sermons. X remember readXng to them from the BXble: X felt the rush of power that comes as people lXsten obedXently to one’s every word, and, at the same tXme, confusXon at what X read—for X was readXng (by chance) LevXtXcus, and understood lXttle. But X must have absorbed the part about castXng out the unclean, because we began gatherXng stones shortly after that.

     We preferred the smooth, oval, quartz stones used Xn landscapXng: heavy and just the sXze of a chXld’s hand, cold Xn shade, hot Xn sun, brXllXantly twXnklXng when broken Xn two—we smashed them agaXnst the sXdewalks as we smashed coconuts, agaXn and agaXn, harder and harder, hungerXng for what’s XnsXde.

     Our banana church became a garrXson for stones, our stockpXle, our armory. Then, we searched the neXghborhood for non-belXevers.

1. everybody must get stoned

2. casting out the unclean

3. bananas