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.