Kathlyn Hotynski

Are you saved?

If you’re part of the 65 percent of Americans who aren’t fundamentalist Christian, then the answer is a resounding “no” – at least according to fundamentalist Christians. But they’re poised to reshape the nation’s religious landscape, and children are becoming their most powerful force.

“This is a key generation to Jesus coming back,” says 12-year-old Levi, in his sermon to a worshiping crowd of all ages at Kids on Fire, a program designed to indoctrinate children and youth. The program, held at Lakewood Park Bible Camp, Devil’s Lake, N.D., is the feature of the film, “Jesus Camp.” The documentary looks at the lives of fundamentalist parents and children to show just how passionate, or militantly obsessive, they are about their attempt to gain a stronger national presence. “Excuse me, but we have the truth,” says Becky Fisher, the head minister at Kids on Fire, who brought her youth group all the way from Lee’s Summit, Mon.

Why children?

“They’re so usable and open,” says Fisher. When Fisher asks Levi about his faith journey, he says, “At five years old, I was saved. I wanted more of life.”

Personally, when I was five, I believed in Jesus, but I also believed in Tinkerbell. And Levi’s case is not unusual. Forty-three percent of Fundamentalist Christians are “saved” before age 13. No wonder they have such a mature philosophy.

But, Fisher says, “you don’t need to feel sorry for my kids – they’re getting it.”

Getting what? Used? Brainwashed?

If nothing else, fundamentalist Christians deserve at least a little credit for their worship style. Waiting in rows of folding chairs at Kids on Fire, an army of tweens organizes to populate the next generation. But until then, they will rock out.

This form of worship is not the traditional sitting on a hard pew, sketching images of the pastor on the back of an attendance card. This is intense worship – people shouting and singing, children speaking in tongues and falling in crumpled heaps onto the floor, tears streaming down faces, souls being bartered by the devil and subsequently won over by Jesus, mothers raising the hands of their babbling infants when the speaker asks if they love Jesus.

Fisher and the team of adults that leads worship at Kids on Fire begin preparing for each session by blessing the sound equipment, slide projector and other technological equipment because they “know what the devil likes to do to the equipment.”

Fundamentalist Christians instill in their children firm morals and beliefs through indoctrination at an early age, discipline, home schooling and Harry Potter. Yes, Harry Potter. To the average child, Harry Potter books and movies may be fanciful journeys into a wonderful and magical world. To their parents, Harry Potter and his friends are witches and warlocks – essentially, they’re some sort of satanic minions, capable of corrupting their young, innocent minds. Did I say young and innocent? I meant usable and open.

In the fundamentalist paradigm, the distinction between the saved and the unsaved is clearly marked. “There are two kinds of people: those who love Jesus and those who don’t,” says Levi’s mother.

To fundamentalists, corruption is running rampant in the United States. The American Religious Identification Survey, taken in 2001 by The Graduate Center of the City University of New York, announced that 52 percent of adults in America are Protestant, 25 percent are Catholic, 14 percent are non-religious, 1.3 percent are Jewish and 0.5 percent are Islamic. This terrifies Fundamentalists. Even the 75 percent of American churches that are home to mainline Christians, such as Protestants and Catholics, are considered “dead churches,” according to a young female camper.

I think religious diversity is part of what makes our nation great. I hate to use the word “freedom,” because of the word’s confused connotations, but I earnestly believe that the freedom of religion clause is one of the most important parts of the First Amendment. And disrespecting other religions shows blatant disregard for the freedom we so treasure in this country. But, that’s their prerogative as a religion, right?

I try not to broadcast this, but I was a fundamentalist Christian my freshman year of college. I was young, na’ve and unsure of what I believed. So, I joined a twenty-somethings ministry focused around purity, inclusiveness and good, clean fun.

I was taken with their expansive network of best friends with matching W.W.J.D? bracelets and fish tattoos on their left inner ankles – the way they feigned pity to mask feelings of superiority toward the unsaved world and the tenderness with which the pretty front man held his acoustic guitar.

But, they stole my soul. They told me the feelings I had deep in my heart were lies. They replaced my passion and creativity with submissiveness and complacency. Luckily, I came out of it. But, I wouldn’t wish this upon anyone, let alone an innocent child. Fundamentalist Christians know that what they sell is tainted, so they target children because they know they can’t tell the difference. It’s wrong, and it shouldn’t carry on. And I’m willing to spend my life un-saving as many souls as I can.

Lind is a junior print journalism major and columnist for The Spectator.