Well. It's been a long time since THAT'S happened!
I was just down at Haggen, spending my food stamp money, and I was in the checkout line behind an older woman with a strong Southern accent. She looked back at me and chatted about how big I was, and how I reminded her of a wrestler. She asked where I was from, and I told her Kansas, originally, and she was pleased to hear that because she was from Oklahoma. I noticed she had an "I love Jesus" keychain, but of course I didn't say anything.
After I finished, I met her again in the parking lot, and she asked me if I had a church. I politely said no, and she insisted on inviting me to attend her Southern Baptist church here in town. (They have a Southern Baptist congregation in Bellingham? I had no idea. And of all the denominations to attempt to proselytize to me!)
I politely thanked her and said "no thanks, ma'am," but she wouldn't take no for an answer. The Radical Faerie in me was half tempted to retort with "Will my husband be welcome, too?" or with "I'm a gay Catholic Pagan Atheist. They wouldn't like me," but the Canadian in me won out, and I just chuckled nervously and said "no thank you" again. As we parted, she called after me, "I hope I'll see you Sunday morning at 11!"
Um, right.
It's literally been years since something like this has happened to me. At least since I left Georgia in 2001. But when I was living in Augusta, just three blocks from the birthplace of the Southern Baptist Convention, it happened all the time. Complete strangers on the street, asking if I was saved. And even Kansas had its share of proselytutes.
But when I moved up North, all that stopped, and I forgot what it was like to have to be constantly negotiating the minefield of conservative Christianity in casual conversation.
Today's encounter reminds me of why I moved out of the South!
I was just down at Haggen, spending my food stamp money, and I was in the checkout line behind an older woman with a strong Southern accent. She looked back at me and chatted about how big I was, and how I reminded her of a wrestler. She asked where I was from, and I told her Kansas, originally, and she was pleased to hear that because she was from Oklahoma. I noticed she had an "I love Jesus" keychain, but of course I didn't say anything.
After I finished, I met her again in the parking lot, and she asked me if I had a church. I politely said no, and she insisted on inviting me to attend her Southern Baptist church here in town. (They have a Southern Baptist congregation in Bellingham? I had no idea. And of all the denominations to attempt to proselytize to me!)
I politely thanked her and said "no thanks, ma'am," but she wouldn't take no for an answer. The Radical Faerie in me was half tempted to retort with "Will my husband be welcome, too?" or with "I'm a gay Catholic Pagan Atheist. They wouldn't like me," but the Canadian in me won out, and I just chuckled nervously and said "no thank you" again. As we parted, she called after me, "I hope I'll see you Sunday morning at 11!"
Um, right.
It's literally been years since something like this has happened to me. At least since I left Georgia in 2001. But when I was living in Augusta, just three blocks from the birthplace of the Southern Baptist Convention, it happened all the time. Complete strangers on the street, asking if I was saved. And even Kansas had its share of proselytutes.
But when I moved up North, all that stopped, and I forgot what it was like to have to be constantly negotiating the minefield of conservative Christianity in casual conversation.
Today's encounter reminds me of why I moved out of the South!
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I've often wondered why these people think an omnipotent deity needs their personal help in order to "save" anyone. You'd think that would be solely "His" domain of expertise. *big shrug*
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i'm sure she meant well, but far too many assumptions were made on her part, it would seem.
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Oh yeah, since 1995. Probably a quarter of my LJ friends list here are Faeries or Faerie-friendly as well.
> I connected a lot better with the group back in Austin Texas, but I do occasionally meet the locals here in Minneapolis.
That's the thing about the RadFaes... in my experience, they differ substantially in personality from on geographic area to another. In some cities, I connect with the Faes well. In others... not so much. I don't know if that's a function of geography or personality of the participants or what, but "Actual Experience may Vary!"
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But it was still presumptuous, and it still made me uncomfortable.
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1.) I don't believe, and
2.) My man has a REALLY BIG HANGUP about any gathering of gay men that is Skyclad. He thinks it's all about sex.
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but i think someone inviting you into their little world to be around their friends, possibly family, and religious figure is a compliment.
i think it says, "hey, you're alright. i'd like to share this with you!"
as trivial as it seems to me and you, religion is really important to some people.
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Boy isn't THAT ever the truth!
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some people just want to share the important thing in their life with you.
though, i suppose the sad thing is they don't always want people to share back.
people are strange no matter what the belief; religion just seems to give their strangeness a name, perhaps.
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Right on the money.
True story: In 2003, when I was in the Yukon, on Walkabout, trying to learn about Canada and Canadians, I stopped at a gas station along the Alaska Highway.
A French Canadian man approached me, and asked for my pocket change, because he was almost out of gas, and broke, and needed to get to Watson Lake.
I gave it to him, and after he finished pumping the gas, I invited him to sit with me at one of the outside picnic tables and tell me his story. He agreed, and I learned that he was a missionary for an evangelical Christian denomination. He didn't preach, per se, but it was clear he was "filled with the Holy Spirit."
In the course of our 15 minute conversation, it came out that I was a Pagan, and gay. Well! You would have thought that I was Satan himself, trying to tempt this guy. He just about blew a gasket that he had accepted money from a heathen faggot, and stalked off, exclaiming that he had EARNED the money I had given him for having to endure talking to me.
That's gratitude for you. And it just goes to show, some people are more than willing to share their faith with you, but HEAVEN FORBID you should share yours back with them!
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But I know you aren't totally against organized religion... admit it, you'd go back in time be a Greek temple priestess if you could!