The Scourge Of Fundamentalism

Yesterday was not a great day for me. Spiritually speaking that is. While I love Facebook, it sometimes opens up discussions and conversations that probably aren't the healthiest, particularly from people with whom I should probably not even attempt to enter into conversation. My partner David doesn't even "get" why I want to talk with people from high school when I didn't know them that well to begin with. I hear him. At the same time, there's something in me that demands authenticity. That demands transparency. Call it self-actualization. Call it the call of the Spirit. Call it Christian discipleship. Call it co-dependency or a need for approval. Personally, I go for the first 3. But whatever you call it, I was talking to some former high school classmates via Facebook about how I can be gay and Christian. These 2 people were just adament that I couldn't. A little bit of Scripture was thrown around. A little bit of "those terrorists want to take over our country" was thrown in (not sure how that relates to sexual orientation and faith), and a whole lot of frustration on my part. The last few posts assured me they were praying for me, and hope to see me in heaven. Unbelievable.



That conversation did such damage to my spirit. I'm mad at me for allowing myself to be subjected to all that. I'm mad at David cause he's right about why I am still talking to people from 25+ years ago. And I'm mostly mad and incredibly saddened that I still carry the wounds of fundamentalism in my core. None of the incredible discouragement that I feel is "conviction of the Holy Spirit for my sin" or "conviction for not following the truth path of Christianity" or anything like that. This is not conviction - conviction doesn't work like that. This is hurt and pain from the influences of bad religion. It's a painful admission: after years and years of being away from destructive religion and being surrounded by a loving community of faith, solid theology, and incredible integration and spiritual growth, I still feel the ugly residue inside of me from the faith of my youth.



Maybe that's how it's going to be - sort of like a wounded healer. And maybe that's a gift I have to offer to other hurting former-fundamentalists. I am in such peace and harmony in my spiritual walk today. I also must admit that there's a scourge within me from my fundamentalist past that will always be there. The tapes still play. The fear sometimes rears its' ugly head. Instead of bemoaning my fate or my past, I want to take the broken pieces from my past and use those as stones to build an altar upon which I pour my heart out to God, to others, and to our community. To pour out my heart for those gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgendered people who are told they and/or their "lifestyle" is sinful, an abomination, and un-acceptable. To those whose theology or belief system is not orthodox or mainstream or "acceptable". To anyone who is outside the "norm". I understand. And it's OK to admit the pain and frustration and sometimes isolation that at times accompany those of us on different or alternative paths. It's also OK to celebrate who you are and find like-minded communities to affirm this in joyous celebrations.



It was not a good day for me yesterday. But it was a great day for me to affirm that even the shadowy destructive forces in our lives can be transformed. Can be redemptive. So while I hate the fact that I was raised in a fundamentalist church, I also embrace this part of me as a gift, for it has made me who I am today. I embrace the wounded healer within, for it helps me to be more sensitive, more open, and more grateful for the man I am becoming today.