Sounds like the Southern Baptist church I once attended in the 80’s. Tiny town in a sparsely populated county with one traffic light. If anyone there was gay, their secret was well kept. Still, the pastor acted as though homosexuals were banging at the church doors, ready to invade and convert the parishioners. Week after week, a hell fire and damnation sermon railing against the most evil sin of homosexuality. Not a mention of the locally rampant sin of adultery.

Instead, we, well some of us, sat confused as to why we were being assaulted by a shrieking pastor yelling about a problem that wasn’t a problem . And, in my opinion, even if there were men with men and women with women holding hands and strolling down our streets, what was the problem?

All the while, several men in the congregation, who exclaimed their sermon approval with loud amens while seated next to their wives and children, were thinking about their upcoming rendezvous with not-so-secret girlfriends — the girl at the video store, the wife of a neighbor, the lonely widow, the bank teller. And, I sat there thinking, What the hell? The sin in the pews was ignored completely for the “sin” in the streets somewhere else. Why didn’t anyone but me notice how insane this was? I had been uncomfortable in that church for a long time for many reasons but that was the last straw. I stopped attending and rescinded my membership. I had better things to do with my time like fighting the bigotry consumed on Sunday mornings.

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I was always a writer but lived in a bookkeeper’s body before I found Medium and broke free — well, almost. Working to work less and write more.

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