Posts tagged christian
Posts tagged christian
What arrived in the mail OH IS IT THE KICKSTARTER-FUNDED CHRISTIAN VERSION OF “CARDS AGAINST HUMANITY”
I NEED THIS
Every Anti-Gay Homophobic Bigot Is A Phil Robertson: A Gay, Closeted College Student From West Monroe, Louisiana (Phil Robertson’s Hometown) Writes One of the Most Powerful Letters Against Anti-Gay Bigotry, Homophobia, & Robertson You Will Ever Read [TW: Anti-Gay Bigotry, Homophobia, Homophobic Slurs & Language, Right-Wing Extremism]
This is an extraordinary message written by an anonymous 21-year-old college student, who is attending the University of Louisiana-Monroe, on a Louisiana-based blog called Something Like The Truth. In addition to being extremely well-written, the author provides us with great insight into what it is like to grow up gay in a straight world.
And unlike many gays, he is still in the closet to all but his close family members, afraid to come out in a deep-south state where words like “faggot” and “queer” are a regular part of their vocabulary, so accepted that it is rare that folks cringe upon hearing the words.
If that isn’t bad enough, his family is not accepting of his sexual orientation, which he was aware of as young as 8 years old. His own father actually threatened his life over it, in fact.
And it gets even worse. The author happens to reside in West Monroe, which also happens to be the hometown of none other than gay-bashing Phil Robertson. And the majority of the folks in the area are quite supportive of Robertson and his homophobic comments, and his comments have only added gasoline to the rampant gay-bashing fires that already permeate the region, at least in this young gay man’s anecdotal view.
It’s not so much that Robertson expressed his views on homosexuals, but rather, it is the manner in which he expressed them, and the choice of words used, that have stoked the hatred of gays.
Lost in all the hoopla surrounding his controversial comments is that as the star of a popular show, Robertson is, for better or worse, a role model of sorts, whether he wants to be or not. His words have an influence on others. When he says that homosexuals are “full of murder, envy, strife, hatred. They are insolent, arrogant, God-haters. They are heartless, they are faithless, they are senseless, they are ruthless. They invent ways of doing evil,” people listen – and support – his words.
And it takes a heavy toll on the LBGT community, particularly in Louisiana and in other places in the deep south where the populace is heavily inclusive of people who are Duck Dynasty fans.
Here is the compelling message from “Anonymous”.
Bob Mann recently wrote a post from the perspective of a young lesbian girl that really painted an accurate picture of LGBTQ life in Ouachita Parish. But I couldn’t share it on my Facebook.
It was too gay.
“It’s fine for you to stand up for the queers,” my grandparents will say, “but God help you if you’re one of them.”
I am, it appears to be, the last gay man still in the closet to his family. That’s why this post is anonymous. That’s why my sexual orientation is blank on Facebook. That’s why I use gender-neutral pronouns when talking about my significant other.
I can’t be gay in Northeast Louisiana. I came out to my parents, and they’ve shoved me back into the closet.
“The family isn’t ready to hear that,” they said.
The family isn’t ready. Well, I suppose in all fairness it did take some getting used to myself.
I live in West Monroe, and I’m a Mass Communications student at the University of Louisiana at Monroe (ULM). I moved here because it’s more progressive than my hometown, also in Northeast Louisiana. I mean, it has two gay bars. Look out San Francisco.
But West Monroe is also home to the most famous anti-gay person in the world: Phil Robertson. I’ve never met Phil. But I was raised by a Phil Robertson.
My Phil Robertson told me that I was an asshole for being so selfish to come out of the closet to my mother.
My Phil Robertson told me that my boyfriend will never be welcomed to his house, as if he were diseased.
My Phil Robertson threatened my life because I had the audacity to be who I am.
I’m 21 now. I first realized I was gay when I was 13. I’ve known that I liked boys since I was eight. And I will never forget the day that I decided I wasn’t going to be gay.
I was in Sunday school, and I’d been daydreaming about moving off to San Francisco, because my dad had told me “it was full of faggots.” It sounded like the place for me.
Then it came to be my turn to read the Bible. And I read the verse aloud.
“Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.”
That didn’t quite click with me, so I asked what it meant. And my Sunday school teacher said, “It means that being gay is a sin.” I felt sick. It was fine if my dad hated gays, but now God does, too?
My future caved in around dreams of sunny California and San Francisco, until all I could see were the fires in the pit of hell.
I was 13 years old.
So, I became straight because I didn’t want to go to hell, and any time I strayed from the path of heterosexuality, I prayed to God to heal me of my sickness. And, then, after a while, I still liked boys. So, I prayed harder. I prayed more. I cried. Until eventually, I stopped believing in God altogether.
If there was a God, surely he heard my prayers. So, he either is wanting me to be a sinner or he doesn’t exist. Either way, it’s not a god I wish to believe in.
I was 16 when I lost my faith. I was also 16 when I met my first boyfriend. It was like being James Bond in Podunk, Louisiana. We’d sneak off to the soybean fields just so we could be together. It was all a magical experience of holding hands under blankets and secret signals for “I love you.” Ah, to be 16 again.
I had my first kiss, my first time and my first heartbreak. I was being the most abnormal person in school, but I was finally living what I thought was a normal life. I was being me. Even though “me” involved leading a double life.
Long story-short: I regained my faith. In fact, I’ve been considering becoming a minister. I am very much still a gay man. And I believe God has called me to minister to other gay people to let them know that God loves them just the way they are. I’m to undo the hurt caused by the Church—the same hurt caused to me.
Gay people, more often than not, throw the baby out with the bath water when it comes to religion. But we have a good reason. We’ve been scarred. Religion has damaged us. And I try to share with them the light I have seen in the Episcopal Church. But every time I get close to a breakthrough, something happens that brings out the worst in people.
One year it was Chick-fil-a. This year it’s Phil Robertson.
Thanks to Phil, I now know where everyone in my family stands on the issue of whether or not I’m a human being.
I even saw a “friend” of mine post something about how gay people can’t be Christians. Wow. Not only will they keep us from having equal rights, but they’ll keep us from equal salvation. We can’t just be second-class citizens. We have second-class souls.
I drive through town, much like the girl in Bob’s story, and I see everyone talking about how right Phil is. How they have Christian values by excluding about 15 percent of the population from their religion.
Phil claims to love everyone, and I have to believe that he has the best of intentions for saying what he said. But he must realize the damage that those words do to people like me.
He encouraged – hopefully unintentionally – a two-week-long “fag bashing” in Monroe and around the world. He made me feel unsafe in my own home. I can’t count how many times I heard “faggot” over the Christmas visit home.
All of this is in a state that still has laws against, and still arrests people for, having homosexual relations.
I remember hearing about Matthew Sheppard. I remember learning about Harvey Milk. I’ve never been under any impression that northeast Louisiana is safe for gays.
And people say Phil is being persecuted for his beliefs.
You don’t know persecution until you’re a 12-year-old boy sitting in a church pew when your preacher encourages everyone to vote to make gay marriage illegal because they think you don’t deserve the same joy of raising a family due to your depravity.
You don’t know persecution until you’re told that God doesn’t love you because of how He made you; when Christian fundamentalists are tied up to the back of pick-ups and dragged down a back road because they believe the Bible. When you know that, then you can talk about persecution.
I try really hard to not get angry over this. But it’s hard for me not to see red when I think about my grandparents, whom I love, who will never be able to be a part of my life because of their own ignorance. I doubt my parents come to my wedding one day. All because my love is different than their love.
But my love isn’t different. It isn’t unholy. It isn’t wrong because a man with a beard said so in a GQ article.
My love is real. And it’s not going away.
of course it’s not adam and steve, steve is a name with firmly greek origins, what would he be doing in the original aramaic/hebrew text. it’s adam and simeon.
I’M CRYING BECAUSE IN CHURCH ONE OF THE LINES OF A HYMN WAS “VERY GOD” AND THIS GIRL BEHIND ME WHISPERED “SUCH CHRISTIANITY” I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING
MY CHURCH DID THAT ONE TOO AND ME AND MY SISTER JUST LOOKED AT EACH OTHER AND LAUGHED SO HARD WE PUT LIKE 5 PEOPLE AROUND US OFF
This specifically refers to a hand striking the side of a person’s face, tells quite a different story when placed in it’s proper historical context. In Jesus’s time, striking someone of a lower class ( a servant) with the back of the hand was used to assert authority and dominance. If the persecuted person “turned the other cheek,” the discipliner was faced with a dilemma. The left hand was used for unclean purposes, so a back-hand strike on the opposite cheek would not be performed. Another alternative would be a slap with the open hand as a challenge or to punch the person, but this was seen as a statement of equality. Thus, by turning the other cheek the persecuted was in effect putting an end to the behavior or if the slapping continued the person would lawfully be deemed equal and have to be released as a servant/slave.
THAT makes a lot more sense, now, thank you.
I can attest to the original poster’s comments. A few years back I took an intensive seminar on faith-based progressive activism, and we spent an entire unit discussing how many of Jesus’ instructions and stories were performative protests designed to shed light on and ridicule the oppressions of that time period as a way to emphasize the absurdity of the social hierarchy and give people the will and motivation to make changes for a more free and equal society.
For example, the next verse (Matthew 5:40) states “And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.” In that time period, men traditionally wore a shirt and a coat-like garment as their daily wear. To sue someone for their shirt was to put them in their place - suing was generally only performed to take care of outstanding debts, and to be sued for one’s shirt meant that the person was so destitute the only valuable thing they could repay with was their own clothing. However, many cultures at that time (including Hebrew peoples) had prohibitions bordering on taboo against public nudity, so for a sued man to surrender both his shirt and his coat was to turn the system on its head and symbolically state, in a very public forum, that “I have no money with which to repay this person, but they are so insistent on taking advantage of my poverty that I am leaving this hearing buck-ass naked. His greed is the cause of a shameful public spectacle.”
All of a sudden an action of power (suing someone for their shirt) becomes a powerful symbol of subversion and mockery, as the suing patron either accepts the coat (and therefore full responsibility as the cause of the other man’s shameful display) or desperately chases the protester around trying to return his clothes to him, making a fool of himself in front of his peers and the entire gathered community.
Additionally, the next verse (Matthew 5:41; “If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles.”) was a big middle finger to the Romans who had taken over Judea and were not seen as legitimate authority by the majority of the population there. Roman law stated that a centurion on the march could require a Jew (and possibly other civilians as well, although I don’t remember explicitly) to carry his pack at any time and for any reason for one mile along the road (and because of the importance of the Roman highway system in maintaining rule over the expansive empire, the roads tended to be very well ordered and marked), however hecould not require any service beyond the next mile marker. For a Jewish civilian to carry a centurion’s pack for an entire second mile was a way to subvert the authority of the occupying forces. If the civilian wouldn’t give the pack back at the end of the first mile, the centurion would either have to forcibly take it back or report the civilian to his commanding officer (both of which would result in discipline being taken against the soldier for breaking Roman law) or wait until the civilian volunteered to return the pack, giving the Judean native implicit power over the occupying Roman and completely subverting the power structure of the Empire. Can you imagine how demoralizing that must have been for the highly ordered Roman armies that patrolled the region?
Jesus was a pacifist, but his teachings were in no way passive. There’s a reason he was practically considered a terrorist by the reigning powers, and it wasn’t because he healed the sick and fed the hungry.
yup. so many Sunday School things are presented as Jesus advocating complete submission to “God’s Will”, but when you consider cultural context of the time, it’s really a v diff story. (via snarkbender)
Humon, I fucking LOVE your work.