Love this vid. Now if only there was one for all the other queerfolk. Suggestions, anyone?
I was thinking about Communion today
So, when I was wee (i.e. up until about 14) I was pretty into the Church. Not by choice (Church was pretty much the only rebellion I had as a teenager), but my parents wanted my bro Isaac and I to be educated in the Christian doctrine.
I suppose it was a good thing. I can beat most people at Biblical Trivial Pursuit.
BUT ANYWAY, I was just thinking about Communion. I was Baptized as a baby (at a mental hospital by my Grandma, who was a priest) and since we were Episcopalian we didn’t have to do Catechism or First Communion or anything like that. We were drinking Jesus Blood as wee little kids. They used Port at the old church, I think because it was cheap and super sweet and freakin’ burned all the way down.
For Jesus Bread they had these little wafer things that tasted like paper. If you got a bunch of them and put them in a bowl of milk you’d basically have flat, thin Rice Crispies (note to self: obtain a bunch of communion crackers and make communion crispy treats?).
For a time I was in the rotation of Chalice Bearer.
Yeah, I dunno why I was thinking about this today. Maybe because we were chatting about really bad alcohol today in class? I dunno.
So…
My mother wants me to go to the Christmas mass with the rest of the family.
I already agreed to go, because she’s my mom and she asked me to go not for her God, but for her, specifically.
Still wearing my mjolnir, tho. And I’m not taking communion.
*dons horned helmet, awaits fallout*
Okay, you know what? The next time a westerner gets all “I’m a Christian and I’m not afraid to admit it” I’m going to scream.
Understand, I’m not ragging on Christianity, nor do I think people should be ashamed of being Christian. You go, guys. Be proud of who you are.
But don’t fucking pretend you’re a ~repressed minority. Because YOU ARE NOT. Don’t get all up on your high horse about how it’s sooooo haaaard to be a follower of Jesus in the modern world. You might get made fun of on SNL every once in a while, but you will NEVER have to worry about loosing your job because of your faith. You don’t have to sit up at night worrying over how the hell you’re going to negotiate your wedding. You don’t have to fret over how the hell you’re going to explain to your kids that, no, we don’t celebrate Christmas/Easter/whatever and, yes, the other kids at school are probably going to make fun of you and tell you you’re going to hell. You well never, ever, EVER have to worry about your physical safety because some violent redneck isn’t going to like the God you revere. You don’t have to have a List of Reasons ready for every fucking time someone starts bombarding you with questions about Why Do You Believe In Such Strange Things.
I’m a pagan. Not only am I a pagan, I belong to a group that is often reviled, ignored, and disenfranchised BY OTHER PAGANS. Does this make me SPECIAL SNOWFLAKE? No. I’m just a regular chick who chooses to believe in a certain way. I’m not wiser or smarter or more moral than anyone else just because I believe the way I do.
But I do have to worry about who I reveal my faith to. It took me almost four years to come out to parents, who are some of the most liberal people you’re ever gonna meet. I worry over my employer finding out about my faith. I wonder if I’m ever going to be able to find a partner who will be okay with me insisting on a wedding that at least acknowledges my faith. I worry about my future kids, who will most likely be teased, ostracized, and possibly even physically hurt by other kids because I WILL teach them about the faith of our ancestors.
A christian in the western world has NONE of these worries. Not really. Oh, you may get called a Bible Thumper from time to time, which is unfortunate, but you have NO FUCKING IDEA how scary it really is to be part of a minority faith, even in the land of the free.
Our entire country is built in such a way that backs you up at every turn. All your holidays are recognized. Your places of worship are easy to find. Most of the people you’re ever going to meet in this country will believe similar beliefs as you.
Be proud of who you are. Love your God. Be a good person. Follow your heart. Don’t hide your faith.
But don’t fucking pretend to be repressed. That, friends, is appropriation, and is a legit dick move.
Churchy memories
For all that I’m a Heathen now, I was actually pretty involved in the church back in the old days. My parents weren’t so much devout (though they were faithful) as they just wanted my brother and I to have an education of the faith.
We went to a weekly youth group where we attended Bible Study (we girls got to have a special class on the women of the Bible which was actually pretty awesome), ran around outside, and did arts and crafts n’ shit. Being a rebellious little shit, I resisted being sent to church twice a week but for all I complained I actually had a pretty good time. I mean, I was still a rebellious, belligerent little shit who questioned everything and tended to piss people off, but I still had fun.
It was through the youth group that I got into a lot of other stuff in the church. I was an Acolyte (ie an alter girl) for several years. I lit candles, carried crosses, served wine, read passages, sang, performed little sermon skits, the whole deal. I was also in the Christmas pageant for years. I’ve been a singing angel, the angel Gabriel (who was always played by a girl for some damn reason), Elizabeth, a narrator, a shepherd, and the Virgin Mary (hilariously, me and my Joseph were both little white kids while our baby Jesus, ‘played’ by the 6-month-old son of one of the parishioners, was black).
I was, like, HELLA churched. Which is funny, considering what a heretic I’ve turned out to be. Still, many of my memories of the church are fond ones. There were a lot of things I didn’t agree with, and some of the parishoners were overbearing dogmatic assholes, but mostly I got a pretty solid education on the Bible and met some nice people.
I had some problems with Christianity and the organized Church, but I didn’t leave in anger. It was more of a “Well, it’s been real, bye.” I changed faiths because I wanted to. I made a conscious decision to believe as I do. No one forced me to, God or human.
