There are a few things I am certain of in my life. One is, I will never be naked in a hot tub with a group of nude evangelizing Christians. Two thing come to mind. Me nude in a hot tube with other people is just wrong to begin with. And, me nude in hot tub with people who want to talk about the status of my nonexistent soul is totally wrong. Yet it happened to some poor bastard at a nudist camp in Tennessee. A nudist camp with Christians who endorse the naturist lifestyle as part of their religious philosophy.
Elizabeth Ulrich of the Nashville Scene writes Naked Before God. subtitled as Christian nudists hit the church—and the hot tub—for three days of wet and wild worship in the backwoods of Tennessee. For some reason, the story just sucked me right in.
Soon the sweaty DJ spins the “Electric Boogie” as a herd of middle-aged and elderly bodies, sagging in painful ways, begin to move mechanically to the electric slide on the dance floor. Some of the more practical women wear blouses and sweaters with no panties, others wear tube tops that they wriggle down and over their breasts, which sway freely to the beat. The men, some donning only cowboy hats and dingy pearl-snap shirts, terrycloth robes or nothing at all, rock their hips—and subsequently, their dangling genitals—with complete abandon. They all shimmy from side to side, tilting forward and snapping their fingers in the most bizarre display of jiggly, full-frontal nudity.
It gets better...
The Christians have cornered an atheist in the Jacuzzi, and it’s time to get to work.
All this late-night drinking and dancing is not quite their scene, even though tonight’s party is devoid of the grinding and dry humping you’d see at most nightclubs. They came here to learn how to be better Christians, to discuss how Jesus jibes with nudism and to enjoy the hot tub jets without swim trunks. But they’ve got a higher purpose. They’re here to let the rest of the nudies know that Jesus loves them. And he doesn’t care what they’re wearing.
I'm speechless. It's all so wrong. It gets better...
One woman sits facing the congregation. She’s clothed only in a pair of thin cotton shorts with an elastic waistband hiked up almost to meet her large, heavy breasts. She takes hold of one breast, lifts it off her stomach and covers the flesh underneath with a thick swipe of deodorant. She moves slowly and deliberately. No one seems to notice.
I need a mind wipe. My mind is stuck in a horrifying loop of deodorant, breasts, jiggle bits, and bibles. I think 1-800-lobotomies will do the trick.