Jesus Loves You

Got so lost that I went to church.
Sorry, God, but you made it worse.
-Mason Jennings "If You Need a Reason"

Maggie and I went to the big fucking mall today (BFM) so that I could get fitted for some new bras, buy jeans, etc.

Most of the day actually passed pleasantly. There was a lot of surprisingly real interactions with people there--something I didn't expect to discover at the BFM.

Well, anyway, I was feeling pretty good about humanity and slightly less materialistic than I expected. Mags and I strolled the mall holding hands because she walks too fast otherwise and I really just like to hold hands. No biggie. We were walking past a gentleman with a woman on his arm and he said to us: "I really want you two to know that Jesus loves you."

What the fuck?

The gentleman didn't even bother to break his stride. Maggie didn't catch his comment, but I was snapping. I was so angry I could barely see straight. Are you kidding? You're jumping to a lot of conclusions, one being that I give a damn what Jesus thinks about me, the second that the woman whose hand I'm holding is my lover, and that you, being Christian, are automatically allowed to pass judgement on the way I change my life. Really? Are you serious?

When I told Mags, she laughed and brushed it off, saying that she had heard far worse. I'm not having as easy of a time writing this thing off. When we came home, she tried to explain her view on the situation to me.

"Kel, the thing is, yeah, we weren't doing anything that should have offended him. But what he said wasn't necessarily about him being offensive. I've found that when people say things like that, they actually have some sort of a desire for you to receive salvation. In a weird way, they're worried about your soul and what they're doing, they're doing out of love."

I (intellectually at least) understand what she's trying to say. I don't agree with it, but I think I get it. Part of the reason I was (am) so upset is because that gentleman and his offhand comment about Christ's love is so typical of the stereotype I've been fighting against since the day I became a Christian. Hey! Guess what? Not all Christians hate people who are different! And not all of us take our Bibles literally only when it suit our purposes. Additionally, some of us realize that it's not our place to pass judgement on our fellow humans.

I wonder if the gentleman would have felt the need to tell an abusive husband, a compulsive gambler, a suicidal teenager, a drug addict, someone who was on a rough road faith-wise, that Jesus still loves them. What was so inherently sinful about two women holding hands that he felt compelled to tell us that we could still be saved?

It's one of those nights when I question why I'm a Christian. Who the hell am I trying to kid? This religion is so full of hypocrites and freakshows and people who don't even think it through that it doesn't seem like it's worth it anymore. I'm sick of treading lightly around people whose opinions I don't want to offend, of not being able to speak my mind all the time, of being "out of communion" with my Church because I don't pass judgement on every person who walks in front of me. I'm asking myself again: When is enough enough? When is it time to cut your losses and run?

There isn't anyone out there who isn't Seymour's Fat Lady. Don't you know that? Don't you know that goddamn secret yet? And don't you know--listen to me, now--don't you know who that Fat Lady really is?. . .Ah, buddy. Ah, buddy. It's Christ Himself. Christ Himself, buddy.
-Franny & Zooey