The Earring

An Introduction to Conditional Belonging

I was twelve years old and at my first Holiness youth camp. For days I’d packed and fretted about what kinds of things we’d be doing and whether anyone would think I was cute. I’d brought my favorite jean skirts and even a few “dressy” outfits for tabernacle services and the banquet at the end where I hoped someone would ask me to eat with them. We’d traveled from North Carolina to Indiana for the special week of spiritual fun and personal growth and I was excited. As much as I feared meeting new people, I wanted to get out and away from the house.

We pulled onto the campgrounds and I felt instantly at home. It was just like going to revival meeting except the amount of young people my age was twice the amount. I was registered in the dining hall and then ushered to the ladies dorms which had comfy bunk beds covered in graffiti. I remember being surprised to see the little poems and names scribbled everywhere. Defacing property was disrespectful, I thought. I secretly marked my initials somewhere on the wall later that week.

That night I wandered to the basketball court to play a game with about fifty young people. It was musical chairs and I ended up with a rather large man smashing on top of me which then collapsed the folding chair I had quickly sat on. I didn’t cry but felt embarrassed. My skirt had blown open and I had hoped no one saw my stubby legs.

As I walked back to the dorm, I saw someone who obviously wasn’t Holiness. He had spikey dark hair and an earring. I walked by him and he smiled at me. I nodded but walked on by. Later, someone told me he had been kicked out of youth camp.

“Why?” I asked.

“He was asked to remove his earring and he refused.”

“Oh,” I responded.

(Please note I sit here writing this now with two pierced ears and a small collection of favorite jewelry.)

I felt it was such a shame that he had chosen his outward adornment over being part of such an obviously great and godly environment. I concluded he must have come from a broken home where he hadn’t learned to respect the Holiness way. A bus kid, probably. One of those that was shuttled to church by parents who didn’t want to go themselves but felt guilty at the idea of their child never learning about God. I was privileged to have parents that took me to places like this that held my feet to the fire.

And hold it did. I blossomed under the preaching of the evangelist who spoke on a level I could understand. I would look around and be inspired to see how many people my age were completely convicted about our lack of pure devotion to God. I prayed every day and did well at the Bible challenges all week. I would not be one of those who returned home to my evil ways and would hurt my savior by not talking to him. I allowed youth camp to truly challenge my faith because how could I save others with a weak spiritual walk?

Some of the events included singers from top Holiness Bible Colleges. I was drawn to one group in particular that represented the college I later attended at 18. The women were beautiful and meek and paid attention to me when I asked them questions about college life. The other groups glossed over me, as juniors and seniors in college were the target market. But these ladies made me feel special. I would continue to look to women like them for years to come as they exemplified my growing feelings of what it was to include someone else into something special that you had. They were what godly women of Holiness should be.

The topic of conditional belonging is huge. To cover all of it in this post would be impossible and I am sure I will revisit it later. I simply want to show you a glimpse into my own personal myth of belonging to a group that I believed had the way of eternal safety as opposed to eternal punishment. My heart truly grieved for that young man who had refused to take out his earring. How tragic to lose out on your soul for a piece of jewelry. His short life in the events that week only strengthened my resolve. I would not be like him. I would do everything I knew to do that was right no matter how much I would long for a more liberal way. I saw at a distance those “other” churches who let their members dress how they want and still claim to be “saved.” That couldn’t be the truth.

The young man’s rebellion became one of many “proof” examples my mind formulated to justify the Holiness Movement’s message. We were so different and strange compared to “the world.” While I wasn’t yet “Sanctified” (I will explain that dangerous theology later), I knew I was in a better church. There was no other place for emotional satisfaction but here. I was taught that rebellion was like the sin of witchcraft.

That young man had rebelled against the holy and safe standards. His very soul was in danger over an earring. But not me, I belonged and would continue to belong for the sake of my soul.

-Charity Zechman