The Blue Voice

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Me and Christians FYI - Part I

There's been a lot of talk about Christians and religion on this site lately. I thought I'd take a minute and address that. There are millions of people who call themselves Christian. There are thousands of different sects in this country that make the same claim. I have no problem with the vast majority of them, and in fact, I stand in awe of the few real Christians that I've met every now and again. You know, the kind that go out and buy a trunk full of blankets at the Good Will store and distribute them to street people on cold nights.

It's the few so-called Christians in their nice clothes and million dollar churches that feel they need to restrict my freedom by forcing me to adhere to their beliefs by trying to get federal, state, and local laws put in place - they're the ones that fry my egg. Fact is, most of these people are no more Christian than money grabbing TV evangelists. Jesus knew the type, they were called Sadducees and Pharisees in his day.

I grew up in a trailer court in Apache Junction, a town a lot more rednecked when I was ten than it is today. For those of you who haven't lived the experience, a trailer park is like a village within a village. It's kind of like a large "Saints and Sinners" or "Priests and Prostitutes" party in England, if you can imagine such a thing. The park manager was kinda like the sheriff or judge that settled all the differences - of which there were many.

My older sister Lucky was a lesbian for all the time I remember. She used to get egged by the local Jesus people who never let a chance go by to call her the worst kind of names as well. She'd just drop her head and continue on her way. Well one day her detractors got really cheesed off that she ignored them and five or six of them attacked her. They gave her a black eye, spit on her, ripped her blouse off, tied her hands behind her back and then the kaka hit the fan. Some of the biker blokes saw it coming down, grabbed their chains and beat off the pack rats. Lucky's been a biker chica ever since - still rides a hog.

Aside from going to Catholic Church with my Hispanic friends and once or twice to Church with a few Baptist kids I knew, that was about my only contact with Christians outside of Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses who came around regularly. It didn't leave a good taste in my mouth. I learned they didn't know much more about that Jesus guy than I did. They were only interested in my doing what they thought I should be doing and didn't give two cents about what I felt I should be doing with my life.

I wrote a poem to Jesus about it when I was tenish or so. Here it is:

I don't know much about you
I admit I am confused
Every time I'm in your house
Always end up feelin' used

I know it ain't your fault
What your people say and do
You'd think that they'd know better
Bein' in relationship with you

I feel like I am whinin'
Gettin' all this off my chest
I'm not sure you're even hearin'
And I know you ain't impressed

I don't rightly give a damn
Cause I'm not awash with guilt
Don't know what you think of that
But it's not the way I'm built

So I'll just go my own way
And leave you to them others
With their Bibles and their smiles
Their daughters with their mothers

Got no gripe with you, okay
But I'd appreciate
If you'd give up on Happy
Cause I doubt we can relate

No disrespect intended

That's pretty much the way it was for me as a child where Christians were concerned. I didn't like or dislike them. Just wanted them to leave me alone. Then, when I was around eighteen or so, I met a guy I'll call James. He and I began spending a lot of time together. He was a PK - a preacher's kid. I'll explain about me and James tomorrow.

posted at 7:30:00 PM by Marcia Ellen

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