When I was a child religion was never ever discussed in my home. My only exposure was my Grandmother singing Onward Christian Soldiers and telling baby Jesus stories around Christmas time, all of which was meaningless to me. When I was 7 she convinced my parents that their children should experience Church and Christianity. So... we got up one Sunday morning and accompanied Gramma to her Episcopalian Church. I didn't care much sermon part. It was boring and by that age I found herd behavior to be discomforting. (I still do) After the service my younger brother and I were directed to Sunday School. We did some coloring and gluing stuff, and then it happened. The girl in charge stuck a book in my face, pointed to a picture and said "Jesus loves you". WTF!!! My blood ran cold. I was looking at a hairy old man wearing one of my Grandmothers dresses and "HE LOVES ME???". Now you have to understand that by 7 years old I had a vocabulary of expletives that could embarrass a retired Sailor and I had been sexually molested which I think had given me just a little bit of an attitude. Anyway I don't remember the words that spewed from my mouth but the result was the girl in tears, a long discussion between my parents and the priest, and I never attended Sunday school again.