It’s a “sanctuary” but it never feels safe.
First of all, when I walk through the doors of said “fellowship” hall (where condescension is key to “progression”), don’t look at me like I’m some kind of assignment.
No, I don’t want to shake your hand that was probably browsing through porn last night and is now pinning that “Deacon” or “Elder” name tag to your shirt.
No, I don’t want to hug any of you hypocrites. I can see your two faces already; there’s no need for closer examination.
No, I don’t want to smile for you.
No, I’m not interested in reaching out to the church near my college campus.
I’m just here because my mom always makes her kids go to service when they come back into town on school breaks. So let me sit down. Please.
Now, I’m sitting here listening to about 15 crying babies and a boring “message” from the pastor.
At least at this church, the pastor isn’t a crazy middle aged man from the Carribbean that’s bashing all other belief systems and laughing at “how two men could possibly desire each other”
A speech detour into homosexuality usually means he has run out of things to say. Bashing homosexuality always gets a few hundred nice laughs and a bunch of “Amens!” from the congregation. Nothing like stroking a pastor’s ego. After all, being homosexual, according to the Bible has to be much worse than being self-obsessed. Right?
Those pastors were so concerned with “the end time”, “will you be ready?”, and “hellfire” that they forget the here and now. Aren’t you supposed to love people into your delusion and not scare them?
That was my old church. My old church is the type to have me, their best musician censored (almost kicked out) after over 6 years of undying dedication simply over stupid a Youtube video (that was miraculously found by an anonymous member the minute I left for college).
Cowards much? Bring it up while I’m there. Don’t act like y’all hadn’t seen my channel before.
The only thing that kept me going to that church was:
1. parents who forced me
2. The fact that I could play piano/organ while at a place I never wanted to be at to begin with.
A youtube video apparently meant much more than 6 years of 3-5 times a week of service. Welp.
After I was censored, my mom was annoyed. I wasn’t. To be honest, she knew I hated that place. She knew I was giving less and less of a fuck about people knowing I was gay. I was “broadcasting it” as she said.
“I don’t announce to people that I’m straight.” she said
You don’t have to, I thought, It’s already implied. While people want me to hide every violation of heteronormative behavior and I’m not going to do it. I’ve been done with that since elementary school.
But enough of the old place. Let’s talk about where I am right now. Nothing’s really changed except the demographic of the congregation. I still hate it. This is why:
In life, I don’t like being around people who don’t like being around me: the real me.
I just want to disrupt this pastor’s rambling and scream “I’M A FAGGOT!”
I wonder how many people would still want to sit next to me, muchless continue share the “good news of Jesus Christ” with me.
Why should I be forced to dress up and sit among people who wouldn’t want to even share the same air with me if they knew who (or “what” as they say) I really was?
They claim to love everyone, but how much love would be poured on to me if it was suddenly revealed that I was gay? Would it just be damnation and condemnation?
Are y’all “sin” free? Or is homosexuality an easy target while you’re over here listening to stolen music.
I won’t subject myself to such invisible oppression. If you wanna love me, then love all of me. Since you can’t do that, then you can find me where people will view me as a person and not as a walking project…
or as a topic to discuss around your family dinners.