Church

Aug

2022

WTF is a deconstructed Christian?

“Deconstruction” is a big thing these days. And there seems to be a lot of confusion around what it really means. While it may be different for everyone, there’s a basic sort of process we tend to go through.

For LGBT+ people in particular, it can begin with questioning why the bible apparently seems to be so hard on us, especially given that it’s impossible to change who we are. This causes us to dig a bit deeper into what the bible says, and ends up with us realising that our interpretations and translations are the real problem.

For others, it can be some sort of abuse by church leaders, corruption, hypocrisy or any number of things that cause us to stop and think about what’s actually going on.

Ultimately, though, we begin to deconstruct when we question why we believe what we believe. We start asking difficult questions that we’d been ignoring, under the assumption that “God’s ways are higher than ours” so who are we to doubt God’s “word”? We can begin to question the integrity of our beliefs and how they realistically affect us and our relationships with others and the rest of the world.

Often, it involves simply looking at the rest of humanity and realising that no matter how hard we try, we will never “save” the world with our Christian beliefs. This in turn causes us to question the character of God – or at least, the God that we’ve been taught.

Some “deconstruct” to the point where they can feel comfortable with a more “liberal” form of Christianity, and live with a reasonable level of integrity, which could mean simplifying everything down to just “following Jesus”.

Some find that no mater how hard they try, Christianity in just about any form, is nothing more than the opinions of one particular culture from 2000 years ago. Many end up atheists.

But there’s also those who look for something “spiritual” that is more loving and inclusive. Something that embraces all people, no matter who they are, without conditions. Something, in fact, that looks more like love than Christian theology does!

Of course, there are some who completely deconstruct, and then re-construct Christianity in a way that works for them, that actually brings life and love.

It’s messy and everyone is different. Most importantly, it’s about asking questions and being completely fearless about where those questions may lead. It’s about recognising deep biases and conditioning, and being prepared to completely let go, knowing that truth, honesty and integrity will always allow us to find our way.

As for me – I totally deconstructed and walked away. It’s no longer in the slightest bit relevant to me. Yes, I had to work through religious abuse and the anger that brought. I now have my own beliefs, and can finally address Christianity in a way that isn’t destructive. But I will never go back there, simply because, once we have taken that step back, we see it for the mess that it really is. And is it really worth the effort to untangle that mess?

Mar

2022

Enough Already! (Cody’s story)

I’ve been a friend of Cody’s for a few years now, and stood alongside him through his extremely difficult journey of “coming out of religion”. Cody’s story is no ordinary one, however, and he has asked me to write and share it on his behalf.

Cody is a 50 year old trans man (assigned female at birth, identifies as male). He also has cerebral palsy (CP) and lives in an assisted living house with 24/7 care. He’s also adopted. His adoptive family are fundamentalist pentecostal Christians. He’s a survivor of sexual abuse, as a baby and on through childhood and as an adult. He suffered a range of physical and psychological abuses as a teenager in the care of Wilson Home in Auckland, and on into adult life. All of this created a “perfect storm” for serious mental health issues.

His journey, then, has been that of leaving abusive religion, facing a complete lack of love at any stage in his life, coming to terms with his gender identity, and finding who he really is, all exacerbated by his CP.

Although his adoptive parents had the best of intentions, and tirelessly provided for his physical wellbeing, they were incapable of providing him with the genuine, unconditional love he desperately needed as a young child and on through the rest of his life. The reasons for this are, of course, complex, but the most damaging has been the religious indoctrination present in the pentecostal church, which was echoed in his family life.

He was constantly made aware of his sinful nature, and as he grew he was pushed more and more to be “responsible” for sinful thoughts and actions in a way that constantly destroyed any sense of self-worth, which was pretty much non-existent from the start anyway.

He was sexually abused by an older adopted brother at the age of 12. His family did what they could to some extent, but much of the blame went on him and they eventually brushed it all under the carpet of family shame. This was the event that led them to placing him in full time care, to ostensibly give some space between him and his brother. His brother went on to be convicted of multiple rapes and has spent many years in prison.

This is just the tip of the iceberg though. Every aspect of his religious family upbringing dealt blow after blow of self loathing, inadequacy and failure, leading to behaviours that echo the desperate need for love that was never met – depression, anxiety, psychosis, self harm, suicide attempts, eating disorders… the fact that he’s survived this long is a testimony to his dogged resilience! But as you can imagine, the cost has been catastrophic.

He’s recently taken the massive step to walk away from church and renounce his faith, and to distance himself from his family. He’s decided that making a clean break is the only way to move forward. But this decision hasn’t come easily! To resist the indoctrination of a lifetime of fundamentalism, while still trying to maintain contact with the church community and friends, is impossible. Walking away from this, in reality, has taken a few years! So many attempts ended in giving in to the pressure, guilt and shame, returning to his abusers in a type of Stockholm Syndrome. The ongoing legacy of this religion will take time to unravel, as the layers of abuse are peeled away, but each layer removed allows love to enter.

So Cody is now free to start his life as a gay man! His dream is to begin physical transitioning, although he recognises the medical difficulties due to his disability.

His passion is to bring to light, the traumatic lives of LGBT+ people with disabilities – the complete lack of support in institutions, the ignorance of sexuality and gender issues within staff and clients, the bullying and shaming and the unwillingness of institutions to even acknowledge the sexual needs of those with disabilities in general. His other passion is helping those with Religious Trauma Syndrome.

You can join him on his journey on LinkedIn and Facebook

May

2021

Too tired to engage

The only way to successfully communicate with fundamentalist Christians is through heart felt empathy – from our part. It seems this is the only way to find a crack in their armour, where they see our humanity, vulnerability and heart.

But I must confess, even then it’s an uphill battle.

Sadly for far too many, it’s too late for us to engage in any meaningful way. So many of us LGBT+ people have decided that we can no longer embrace our faith and are looking for safe spaces to deconstruct.

Many are too afraid to publicly admit that they no longer hold to the traditional Christian theology and doctrines, but remain because they have nowhere else to go!

The church community can be such a strong pull that to walk away feels like dying. They are suffering in a place of complete cognitive dissonance – the “silent gays” – hiding their true identity, living in fear, wearing the mask.

For many LGBT+ people struggling to maintain their faith, they are too tired. They are emotionally damaged to the point where the thought of engaging in the ways that require emotional vulnerability and compassion are just another load on top of what they already carry.

Although I personally try to engage traditionalists with empathy and compassion, I far too often find it exhausting and frustrating. I’m learning to walk away a little more graciously these days, but I have my moments!

This is a huge reality, and causes intense silent suffering. Mental health issues are inevitable and the suicide rate in LGBT+ Christians is horrifically high.

You aren’t alone! Don’t be afraid to reach out to those who have walked away from church. It’s OK to ask taboo questions. It’s OK to deconstruct in whatever way you need. “God” is far bigger than any religion can contain.

Apr

2021

Looking for Survivors

The progress of the Conversion Therapy legislation in New Zealand is looking good.

But we need input from you!

The problem is that “Conversion Therapy” has been presented as something extreme. Recent movies and docos have painted some grim pictures, and rightly so!

But the reality is far more subtle and insidious, and we know there are thousands out there who are unaware that they’ve been subject to religious practices and beliefs that are just as harmful as the full on stuff we’ve seen. Part of this effort involves shifting the term “Conversion Therapy” to SOGICE (Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity Change Efforts) as it more accurately describes the the scope of the issue.

Silent Gays will be working with SOGICE survivors and Brave to host some safe, private zoom gatherings to share experiences, learn about the advocacy space, and talk about support.

The first step is presenting three specific questions to help you understand the scope of the practices. These are:

Have you been part of a faith community where you were told that you were broken, disordered or in need of healing because of your gender or sexual identity?
Have you been offered prayer, counselling, pastoral care or rituals which seek to change or suppress your sexual or gender identity?
Have you been part of a formal or informal faith-based program which tried to engage the ‘reasons’ for your gay, bi, lesbian, trans, queer or ace identity or ‘support’ you to live as a straight, cisgender person?

You’ll notice that we aren’t simply asking if you’ve been through some form of conversion therapy. This is simply because most people just don’t think in those terms.

We are looking at ways to ask these questions of the broader community, but I’m putting this out now for your consideration, and by all means, feel free to prepare as detailed a response as you like, or just sit with the idea for now.

There is no pressure, and all information is strictly confidential.

email info@silentgays.com

Apr

2021

It’s Not Just Conversion Therapy

A friend made this comment that really encapsulates the depth of the issues for LGBT+ people around religious abuse and the implications of banning CT and hate speech.

The deep seated guilt and shame for LGBT+ Christians isn’t easily solved by just joining an affirming church or finding new friends.

Part of the difficulty is that the guilt is applied well before it gets to the “conversion therapy” stage as the teaching is woven throughout the belief system for everyone. In the church I grew up in during the 60’s and 70’s, there was little anti-gay stuff spoken directly from the pulpit but it was implied and inferred. There was a little more said at home (probably in answer to questions about what did the Pastor mean when . . . ) but somehow one was very clearly taught that anything except heterosexual monogamous marriage was the only acceptable way to do relationships.

This screws up everyone’s thinking if they have any degree of LGBTQIA attributes – the guilt and sense of brokenness is inherent even without going to conversion therapy.

As Gay Activism got louder through the 70s, the anti-gay theme began showing up more obviously in church teachings, and one buried one’s unacceptable sexuality even further, and took in the anti-gay mantel too.

Even though not subject to overt applied conversion therapy, every person that fellowships in these church activities is subject to subtle implied conversion therapy.

How does one legislate against that?

Hate speech, no, they’re too subtle for that. One of the last church services I attended at the ‘radical centre’ church I attended, stated that if a homosexual couple came into the church they would be welcome and accepted – but that a marriage would not be performed in the church or by that pastor.

So – they have worked out ways around the hate speech laws.

This is fast becoming the church’s normal way of dealing with it all – bigotry and hypocrisy with a welcoming smile and knife in the back.

We still have a long way to go.

May

2020

Religious comfort

I saw a video on being gay and religious the other day. One of the key comments the guy makes is his feeling of belonging and connection with thousands of years of traditions etc. He mentions that at the end of the day it’s all about doing good to humanity and loving people.

But here’s the catch. The Jewish scriptures (the Old Testament for Christians) are absolutely clear about many things. For LGBT+ people it takes a lot of unraveling to sort out the scriptures that talk about homosexuality being an abomination and that God commanded their death. Most Jews who exhibit compassion and empathy tend to sweep all that under the carpet, or create doctrinal work-arounds, as any sane human would.

But there’s a bigger point to be made in all this – religious comfort.

Religion’s primary concern is with providing security, comfort, assurance… a sense of “belonging”. We can make it about “the truth” if we want, but there isn’t a single thing about any deity that can survive the tests of rational scrutiny and scientific methodology. That’s not to say there is no deity, it’s just there’s zero proof.

Despite all that (and all it implies) it comes down to comfort in the face of the unknown, and this is something that no compassionate person would deny anyone.

For me, my relationship with Jesus was all about finding a “place” of love and compassion, comfort and hope. I loved Jesus. He was my friend. I knew he listened, and if I could get my crazy brain to slow down enough, I could hear him!

For some, it’s more about feeding the ego and the “comfort” obtained from that. This is especially evident with people who enjoy the feeling of privilege from knowing something others don’t – of holding the key to salvation. They love the thought that they are special, to the exclusion of others – because feeling special implies that others are not. If we are all special it no longer has meaning because special is just normal. What most Christians fail to see is that most of us have this to greater or lesser degrees. It becomes apparent in fundamentalists of course, but it’s very insidious and creeps into our attitudes far too easily.

But I digress…

Religious comfort is easy. That’s why we love it so much. It’s not that it’s “wrong”, but it’s the easy way out. So I get it, and I certainly embraced it for all it was worth, and it kept me alive and relatively sane.

But what’s the alternative?

Being brave enough to face the problems that religion attempts to solve and finding peace in that place. It’s about accepting that we don’t know what the next second may bring, let alone the next 20 years, or eternity. It’s finding peace in being here and now, and exercising empathy with ourselves and everyone else in this moment.

This allows us to be 100% “here” in every way. No concern for the past or the future, and free to love everyone – because we are all in exactly the same position whether we accept it or not (and no, it doesn’t mean we don’t make plans etc, but I’ll save that for another blog). Our gods can only provide some escapism – enough delusion to feel OK about life and the future.

But finding the “guts” to face the reality is not an easy task. I might sound very confident as I write this, but the working out of this is slow and requires a determination to break the addiction of religious comfort. The one thing I (and countless others) can assure you of however, is that it’s worth every ounce of effort we can put into it.

We don’t need religion or deities – but we do need to find a way to live at peace, with love and compassion, and that genuinely includes every other human being.

Sep

2018

Why It Was So Hard to Leave the Church

Guest blog by David Hayward
(The Lasting Supper)

David (aka The Naked Pastor) is a wonderful LGBT ally and fellow traveller in the journey of deconstructing religion. I found this article helpful in articulating the reasons why we enjoy church and the difficulties we face when we leave. His work through The Lasting Supper is amazing and bridges that gap for people who need a safe space to assess what the heck they really believe and the damage religion can cause

I’ve left the church. Many times. The last time I left was 8 years ago. It was painful every time. Here’s just a few of the reasons why it was so difficult to leave.

1. Fear: When I left the church, a profound cloud of fear enveloped me: “What have I done?” No matter how much you rationalize your decision, the years and years of indoctrination collect to shout out jeers and threats for your selfishness, stupidity, sinfulness, and short-sightedness. You have just willingly divorced yourself from God and his people, taken your first step closer to Hell, thrown yourself into the arms of the Devil, and destined yourself to an endless road of Perdition. You have officially branded yourself a Heretic. Lost! Of course this isn’t true, but try telling yourself that! Over and over and over again.

2. Friends: The first time I left the church I imagined I would keep many of the friends I had there. I learned quickly that it never seems to work out. Even the last time I left the church, that fantasy was still burning in my mind. Again, it didn’t work out. You lose friends. Maybe not all, but most of them. Period. You have to learn how to make new ones while you’re grieving the loss of your old ones. Not easy.

3. Inspiration: There is something very inspiring about gathering together with others on pretty much the same page, in agreement, learning together and singing together and supporting each other. I love hearing or delivering a good sermon. Honestly! Most often I walked away refreshed and refuelled for the next week. Learning how to do that by yourself is not simple.

4. Music: I was always involved with the music and worship. The last worship band I had rocked! I loved playing and singing with them. We had some great times and even made a CD together that’s pretty good. I haven’t picked up my guitar since I left, but that’s my fault. I don’t listen to worship music much anymore either unless it’s renaissance church music or Russian Orthodox choirs. There’s too much “ick” associated with worship music for me now.

5. Support: When I and my family went through difficult times, we always always had people around us who cared and actually did something about it. We’ve been given food, money, babysitting, cars, rides, help moving, prayers, company, words, vacations… you name it. The church also made it easy for us to be generous and give. Now we’re on our own, and the difference is noticeable. We are learning to be self-sufficient and generous independently.

6. Destiny: The last denomination I was involved with was the Vineyard. Prophetic words, words of wisdom, dreams and visions are a huge part of that culture. My life had meaning and a sense of purpose. I woke up every morning pretty much knowing what I had to do and where my life was heading. I had a destiny! Even though I now believe most of that was hype, I did enjoy living in that matrix of illusion. Then I took the red pill. Oh my!

7. Validation: When you are in the church, you get a very strong sense that you are on the gospel train. You are doing the right thing being counted among the people of God. You are a member, and that gives you a sense of assurance that you are indeed saved, that God has his eye on you and that you are on the right track. When you get off that train, you have to build your own sense of assurance that you are okay, and that is an arduous but necessary task.

8. Boredom: I have so much more time on my hands since I left the church. I remember my first Sunday morning not going. I went for a walk around the time when cars where driving by on their way to church. Did I ever feel strange! It was hard not feeling like a delinquent. A sinner. I’ve gotten used to it to the point now where I relish my Sunday mornings. But that’s not all. When you involve yourself with the church, it can become like a family with its 24/7 demands. Now I have to be self-directed. But I’m learning.

9. Children: Even though Lisa and I are learning our new way of life, we always worry about our children. They are amazing young adults now. But they have been exposed to all the crap that’s been dealt out to us, and their impression of church is not rosy. We never slam the church in front of them, but they aren’t stupid. They catch on. We don’t want them erroneously believing that this means we are enemies of religion, the church, faith, or spirituality. They each have their own brilliant expressions of spirituality, but it’s been forged by fire. Sometimes ours.

10. Inclusion: I fight hard for the church. Some people mistake it for me fighting hard against it. When pressed, I still say my family of origin is Christianity and that I love the church. I totally believe in the right of people to gather together volitionally, but in a healthy manner… which is rare. I am also for spiritual independence. It saddens me when people assume that because I’ve left the church I am no longer in the game. When I was in the church, my voice was criticized as biting the hand that fed me. Now it is criticized as not deserving to critique something I’m not a part of. Can’t win.

Please understand that even though most of these are really good reasons to stay in the church, most often they come at a price. Like the rabbits of Watership Down who were well fed by the farmer. But the deal was the farmer could occasionally harvest some of them for food and fur. In this case, none of the good the church offers is worth it for me.

Do these reasons apply to you? Or, do you have other reasons?

Church

WTF is a deconstructed Christian?

Enough Already! (Cody’s story)

Too tired to engage

Looking for Survivors

It’s Not Just Conversion Therapy

Religious comfort

Why It Was So Hard to Leave the Church

Guest blog by David Hayward
(The Lasting Supper)

Latest blogs

The story behind Silent Gays

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Guest blog by David Hayward (The Lasting Supper)

Latest blogs

The story behind Silent Gays

Guest blog by David Hayward
(The Lasting Supper)