Church has never been a happy place for me. It’s not meant to be I hear you murmur under your breath. It’s where you worship, revere god you correct my innocent musing.
I call bullshit. Its simply a place of manipulation, narcissism and predatory behaviour. Which church? Every church? Religion to my humble mind, the organised kind, is simply rounding up and exploiting the masses. And guilting everyone who declines to play.
And Christianity folks, have you ever thought about why you use a cross as a symbol of your faith? It was the murder weapon, make that make sense. And the iconography on the cross? The murder scene is replicated over and over. Yes I know, it’s to represent Jesus died for our sins, but maybe we could rethink that, the visuals are not exactly inspiring.
Oh it makes me so tired.
Presbyterian Was The Start Of My Disbelief
I dont remember much. My single mother would drag us to a drab brick building in the burbs every Sunday. Kids to Sunday school, parents to the big peoples place.
The only real memory was a dress up party at the church. My mother always had costumes around the house from my sisters ballet exploits and on this day she decided I would be a butterfly, wings and all. Colourful leotard, and a thing on my head with antenna.
It wasn’t a dress up party. She had dropped me off in my colourful regalia with a wave and promise to pick me up in two hours as she zoomed off in the family car. I trotted inside only to find I was the only one in fancy dress. The looks, the laughs behind hands, the sheer embarrassment was a lot for my young age.
I dont remember going to church with her again after that. But she started breeding and showing Siamese cats. Another form of cult worship that reeled me in for a while as her trusty helper on the weekends.
Not really church but it is.
Church Of The Catholic Variety Thousands Of Miles From Home
As an exchange student in the US of A, I lodged with a family of the Catholic variety. The father had an extended family of 17 brothers and sisters, and at the time they had five adopted kiddies as well as me living in their home. Beautiful, generous folks, very strong with their expectations.
One of those requirements was to go to church with the family every Sunday, a torture for me that included wearing a dress. I was confused by the stand, kneel, sit patterns and the swallowing of the body of Christ didn’t sit well. And the dress? I always felt like i was in drag.
Nothing horrible, just itchy and uncomfortable.
Born Again Shenanigans in Late Teens
Yep, I was born again for a wee moment. I was at a low point in my life, the peeps at the church were loving and warm. I went with a friend from school (hindsight tells me I had a crush), and was caught up with the whole thing, was even full immersion baptised. Until.
There was a big argument between pastors, ugly infighting about infidelity and other things that tore the congregation apart. Hypocrites, that’s all I could see. I stood up in the service one day and announced I was done with the church and stomped out.
They called and told me they would pray for me. My response was: Don’t bother.
Catholicism & God in The Philippines
Living at the farm, we sometimes attended the local Catholic church. There was no regular priest but someone would arrive eventually who was going from church to church in the area to give sermons, sometimes two to three hours after the advertised start time for the service.
These congregation were farmers and rarely saw each other, so they waited patiently for the arrival of the priest catching up with people they rarely saw. The priest would storm in and chastise them like children for talking while waiting. Instead, they should have spent those hours doing hail mary’s rather than catching up with their neighbour.
This happened a lot. The talking down to, bleeding poor people for money they couldn’t afford to give while putting up fancy churches. It didn’t make sense, or seem charitable or supportive of the local community, none of what they did was.
And they had white cherubs and angels adorning the church.
On top of that, the head of the families group of the church. You know they counsel couples about their marriages, we knew his wife as well. Well he took a liking to my partner B and actively pursued her, trying to insert himself in the relationship. Even when she was on her deathbed.
When he last messaged her, she was unconscious. I replied telling him to F off and tend to his own relationship and leave mine alone.
As a Queer Person I’m Evil & Going to Hell
And then there is this. Being queer, lgbti, however you identify you must either be celibate to be accepted sorta, or pretend at heteronormativity. Neither works for me. I live in authenticity as much as I can an put up with the hate not just from Christians, but pretty much every organised religion.
Even though this is how we are born, they wont accept us. That’s ok with me. Who is it that said: Any club that will have me is a club I don’t want a part of.
I love who I am, and I would never dull myself for the sake of being accepted by global, organised mind control.
Peace Out
Note: For Queer Christians looking for understanding and acceptance, check out the Rainbow Christian Hub, a new resource being developed to answer your questions.