An Article Kindly Contributed By A Reader
I
was born into a Christadelphian family in the mid-70s and from a young age I
had to attend Sunday school, the youth club and the evening meeting. My parents
came from a long line of CDs, so this really was the traditional family
religion. We led a comfortable middle class life and I had a number of non-CD
friends from school but as I grew up I began to dread Sundays rolling round.
Without fail I had to endure the same tedious rubbish, first a lesson at Sunday
school from a teacher who could bore the tail off a donkey, then a mind-numbing
evening exhortation from a dusty old speaker at the evening meeting. I really
hated it with a passion, especially watching my non-CD friends enjoying a
carefree day playing whilst I was carted off for yet another wasted Sunday.