JOHN PAUL

American Evangelical Christians are a lot less like the apostles of Jesus, and a lot more like the guys who nailed him to a cross.

Now, I may be an agnostic homosexual (read: heathen sodomite), but I did go to Catholic school for what seems like forever. And I am from Oklahoma. And, yes, I have read the Bible. So when it comes to Jesus…. sure, I know the guy.

And you know what? He seems pretty cool. I like him. Why? Because, to me, Jesus was the kind of person who stuck up for the little guy. According to the Bible he was big on healing the sick and helping the poor. What’s there not to like about that?

Another thing I like is that he was willing to go against the status quo. He rolled with a posse of smelly homeless dudes and a prostitute. He had his own ancient Breakfast Club! He also preached against the evils of greed and violence. I mean, he was a real rebel! So much so that the Roman Empire, the biggest upholder of the status quo at the time, labeled him a threat.

Sure, Jesus has been painted in several different lights to fit several different religious and political ideologies. I get that. But from everything I’ve read, I think it’s safe to say that Jesus was at least a real mover and shaker. For me, he’s right up there with the other “radicals” like Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. Because, well, Jesus was a man who was interested in changing things.

Hmm… changing things. Let’s keep that in mind as we flash-forward to his modern day fan club. 

Who is the church of Jesus today? Well, that’s difficult to say. There really are all kinds of Christians out there. There are Catholics, Baptists, Pentecostals, Christian hipsters who frequent coffee shops… But you know what’s easier to answer? Who is the LOUDEST church of Jesus today? That’s easy, we say in unison - the Evangelicals.

And who are the Evangelicals? They’re the ones on your TV screen asking for money, first of all. Many of them are also fundamentalists. But beyond that, they are a large Christian group with a lot of power in American politics. 

And what are their politics? We call it social conservatism: the idea that morality can be and should be regulated by the government. AKA the “small government” Republicans trying to regulate your bedroom activities.

This group often cites Jesus as the spiritual guide for their beliefs. In this way, they can justify being against certain things.

And, let me tell you, in the history of American Evangelicalism and Christian fundamentalism… they have been against a lot of stuff.

Remember when the super-duper Christian South realized slavery was against the teachings of Jesus and immediately freed all their slaves? No? Oh. That’s probably because they were against the Emancipation Proclamation.

Remember the civil rights movement in the 60’s? When Martin Luther King Jr. and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference sought out “the promised land” and equality in this country? Yeah. They were against that.

Remember when two people of different races could finally celebrate their love openly and get married? … They definitely weren’t for that.

How about when feminists said women deserve the right to vote? Well, Evangelical Christians were kind of hoping they would just stay in the kitchen. You know. Where “God” told them to be.

And what about today? What about gay people trying to get equality and respect in a world that has historically oppressed them?

Even the president came out and said he was for that! But not Evangelical Christians. No. See, they would kind of prefer it if gay people just died out.

And, FYI, they’re still pretty shitty about racial issues and women’s rights.

Have you noticed a pattern here? No? Maybe? I think you do, but I’ll spell it out for you just in case.

Evangelical Christians are very interested in keeping things the same.

No matter how bad it might be for someone else, they are interested in keeping the status quo.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on now! What’s the deal?! 

If Jesus was in the business of changing things… why is such a sizable chunk of mainstream Christianity trying to keep things the same?

If Jesus was all about the poor and downtrodden, then why are Evangelical Christians all about oppressing them?

If Jesus was against the status quo, then why have Evangelical Christians become guardians of the status quo?

But, then again, when have people ever been interested in actually following the teachings of some guy in a bathrobe preaching peace and love?

Between the times of Jesus of Nazareth and today, there has been so much bloodshed and acts of hatred carried out in the name of Christianity that it would make your head spin. 

So, yeah… maybe this is nothing new. Still, I can’t help but think that if Jesus had been alive today instead of back then, and he was still trying to meddle and go about changing things, then his biggest enemies wouldn’t be agnostics or atheists. They would be Evangelical Christians.

“Do you like that, faggot?” he asked, waving the hotdog wiener in my face. “Come on, you know you like it.”

I awkwardly tried to avert my eyes and focused instead on my lunch tray. I had been through this many times before. This was the drill. Just ignore him and he’ll lose interest and go away. Don’t acknowledge him, don’t even look at him…

Then I felt the cold, wet slap of a hotdog wiener across my face.

“I’m talking to you faggot!” he said.

I wiped my face with my napkin and continued to look down at my food.

It wouldn’t do any good to fight back. He was three times bigger than me and the rest of the school would no doubt be on his side if I tried to defend myself. I was a slightly effeminate, nerdy kid in a small town in Oklahoma. Teachers didn’t even like me, much less the students.

No, the best plan of action was to try to not call attention to myself and just keep looking down at my stupid lunch tray. 

“I thought you liked wieners!” he said, him being the persistent prick he was. “What’s wrong? You don’t like my wiener?”

My experiences with bullying stick with me to this day. They still haunt me, and unfortunately, they left me with quite a few issues to work out.

But there was some poetic justice for me. I went to college, came out of the closet, became fabulous, and my bullies are probably creeping on my Facebook right now and crying and trying to call me to apologize but they can’t because I changed my number. At least, in my mind, that’s what’s up.

Of course, not every victim is so lucky. While my bullies are busy being non-factors, I know one bully who apparently never had to answer for his crimes… and he’s running for president of the United States.

While in prep school, Mitt Romney orchestrated an attack on an openly gay classmate. Romney and his cohorts pinned a student named John Lauber to the ground and cut his hair off. Lauber had apparently returned from spring break with long, blond hair over one eye.

Romney, during the act, said things like “he can’t look like that!” and “that’s wrong!”

Lauber according to eye-witness reports, only cried and screamed.

And that’s not all. Romney also harassed a closeted student named Gary Hummel by yelling out “atta girl!” every time Hummel answered a question in class.

John Lauber has since passed away, and it doesn’t seem like Romney ever apologized or even regretted harassing him. I mean, unless you count what he told Fox News about the incident:

“I don’t remember that.”

His classmates, however, seem to remember. Fiver other students gave their account of what happened, and all agreed that the incident still troubles them to this day.

I can only imagine what it would be like for Lauber if he was still alive. I think about how I would feel if one of my bullies ever became a viable candidate for president of the United States. What a scary thought.

There are some who dismiss this as a prank - but let’s be clear, bullying is a serious issue, and it is a tactic employed by weak-minded and insecure to feel bigger than someone else and better about themselves.

How would you feel if someone who had tormented you was running for such an esteemed and respected office? How would you feel if it had been your child that was pinned down and attacked?

…And Romney wants to pretend like this issue is irrelevant?

In a time when LGBT youth are killing themselves because of bullying, how exactly is this irrelevant?

Let me tell you something. Mitt Romney is no different from the guy who called me a faggot in the lunch room and hit me with his slimy, wet wiener.

Okay, that was gross. But you understand.

The only difference is that Romney is a grown up now and is expressing his hatred for people who are different in other ways - check his stance on same-sex marriage, for example.

So now we know the truth - Mitt Romney is a bully. So now my question for you is… what are you going to do about it? Are you just going to sit there looking at your lunch tray hoping that he just goes away, or are you going to get up and vote in November? 

I don’t know about you, but I won’t be voting for a bully. I hope you’ll share this if you feel the same.

Dear North Carolina,

Hey! It’s me.

So… are you done with your little temper tantrum? I mean, I’d certainly hate to interrupt. What’s that? You’re through?

…Are you sure?

Okay, good! Because I have something I’d like to say.

You’re probably feeling mighty proud of yourself right now, North Carolina. What with banning same-sex marriage and all… again.You do realize that it was illegal in the first place, right?  Seriously, way to kick us while we’re down. You even took it a step farther and banned all civil unions!

Wow. I must say, I am at least impressed by your resolve. You’re even willing to throw straight people under the bus just to get to us!

So go ahead, North Carolina. Give yourself a pat on the back. A round of applause. Kudos. 

And be sure to enjoy it while you can.. because it may be the last time you ever get throw a hissy-fit like this again.

Because, whether you like it or not, the world around us is changing. Every single day, support is growing for gay marriage and for LGBT acceptance. And I think you know that - otherwise, why would you have bothered to even make such an amendment in the first place?

You’re being awfully silly, North Carolina. The only thing this amendment has done is establish how backwards you and the rest of the bigots in this country are.

But maybe I should credit you, because you’ve also done something else. You’ve ignited a base that doesn’t agree with your outdated way of thinking. And right now, as you read this letter, they are working to bring an end to toxic legislation like Amendment One.

You know, I may be a cynical, liberal, gay college student who is disenchanted with the system, but this little nugget of wisdom is something I have always held to be true: Love will win in the end.

So you might want to get on the ride side of history, North Carolina, before it’s too late. Because incidents like this… they end up in the history books, and history will not treat you kindly. 

But if you refuse, as I suspect you might, then you should know this.

You may have won the fight, but so long as hate is the only thing on your side, then you will lose the war.

Sincerely,

John Paul

Some community members in Lenoir City, Tennessee are asking for an investigation of high school yearbook adviser James Yoakley.

What is Mr. Yoakley’s crime? He allowed an article in the 2012 yearbook titled “It’s OKAY to be gay.”

The student-written article profiled Zac Mitchell, a gay student who discussed bullying and coming out and how his family donates to pro-gay causes and breast cancer research. I know. Heinous stuff, isn’t it?

After the article came out, an email started circulating amongst the ultra-religious members of the community. They had this to say:

“It is time to take a stand for our faith. We aren’t being called to risk our lives and go before a king like Nehemiah – but our walls are broken down and our gates are burning.”

Wow! Who would have known that a call for tolerance and acceptance would be taken as an act of war by these supposed “Christians?”

Van Shaver, a board member in a nearby district, even went so far as to say that Yoakley should be fired and arrested.

“Arrested for what?!” You may ask. Child sex abuse, of course.

Shaver said that if Yoakley had asked about the sexual orientation about any child, then that must make him a sex offender.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had just about enough of the ultra-religious right’s war on gay teens in this country. They’ve helped pass laws that make it easier for bullies to target LGBT students. They’ve claimed that gay rights are an affront to their religious freedoms. And now, after one brave high school student shared his story in the yearbook, they are trying to criminalize the yearbook adviser.

Enough is enough.

Now here’s what you can do to help stand with Mr. Yoakley and the article of acceptance he decided to publish.

Like the Facebook page - Take A Stand Against The Ignorance in Lenoir CIty

The people trying to get Mr. Yoakley fired also made a Facebook page called “Take A Stand Lenoir City,” and I encourage you to go there and RESPECTFULLY disagree with the way they are handling this incident.

These people are certainly not acting very Christ-like right about now.

LGBT students in high schools across our nation are under attack, and they need all the help and support we can give.

Oklahoma,

It is with great sadness that I write you this letter. You see, I have made the difficult decision to leave you.

It’s not that I don’t love you. I do.

I loved the summer days we spent sitting on the porch drinking sweet tea, when the breeze would roll in and cool us off every once and a while like it knew exactly when it was needed. I loved walking barefoot through the grass with you after a hard storm and you could still smell the rain. I loved the nights we’d throw blankets into the bed of your truck and drive out to the middle of nowhere and lie beneath the starry sky - the kind of sky you can only find here - and talk ‘til the sun came up. Some nights I look up and remember those times and I smile.

I loved catching fireflies in mason jars and rolling in the grass and laughing so hard we cried. I loved making scarecrows out of horse hay when the leaves turned and fishing in the creek when the weather was just right. You are childhood to me, you are familiar to me, you are home.

Like I said… I love you. I really do.

And that’s why leaving you is that much harder for me. Because as much as there is to love about you… there are also things I hate about you.

“Every person who is guilty of the detestable and abominable crime against nature, committed with mankind or with a beast, is punishable by imprisonment in the penitentiary not exceeding ten years.”

“Marriage in This state shall consist only of the union of one man and one woman. ”

You know, sometimes, I feel like I’m not wanted here at all.

And I can’t put up with it any longer. I can’t take the table scraps of affection you throw my way and pretend it’s love anymore. And I know you’re too stubborn to change for me. Oh, do I know that! Even if the rest of the world told you that you were wrong… it wouldn’t matter.

I really hope that maybe, one day, you’ll change. I really do. But it’s not worth it for me to stay anymore. Because it’s not fair… you’re not fair.

This is my home, and if I can be buried here, I should be able to get married here.

I’ll miss you,

John Paul

“Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie say they’re waiting until gay marriage is legal before they get married,” my mom said from the front of the car. “As if anyone cares what they do.”

My mom is a supporter of gay marriage, but probably not the biggest supporter of Brangelina. I actually decided to take up for the power couple.

“I think it’s cool!” I said. “I support the message they’re trying to send.”

Let’s get this out of the way. As far as celebrities go, I’m perhaps not as jaded as some who might say, “they’re stupid, everything they do is for publicity, who cares what they think?” I mean, sure, some of them have their heads up their asses but I do think they have a decent platform to do some good works. On the other hand, I don’t concern myself too much with what celebrities do and you won’t find me reading up on their latest wardrobe flops and ski trips in a magazine. The fact that I’m writing a blog on this subject may be contrary to what I’m about to say, and it’s cool if you don’t believe me, but… I genuinely don’t care what celebrities do with their personal lives.

But when it comes to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s pending marriage, I do tend to agree with Mr. Tyler Oakley. As organizations like GLAAD and Equality California rush to give their blessings to Brangelina’s engagement, I think I am one of the few gay activists left feeling disappointed. You know, if you’re for a cause, you should stick with it. If you promise something, you should keep it. So yes, I am a bit annoyed and nonplussed.

Because I don’t think now is the time for gay rights groups to be coddling a celebrity couple’s marriage who made a promise to the gay community and then broke it. Let’s be clear - no one asked Brad or Angelina to make that promise. It was entirely selfless on their part and it was their decision. It was also their decision to get engaged, and while I may have been mildly disappointed (and I think Brad saying that they were just caving to pressure from their kids is utter bullshit since, guess what, plenty of gay and lesbian couples raise kids without the right to marry), I’m probably going to chalk it up to the fact that they’re not about their shit. Not about that life. Pussies. Oh, I don’t doubt that they care about gay rights. I’m sure they do, and I’m glad they are allies. But about their shit? They are not.

But talking about celebrities makes me feel icky and it’s kind of a waste. So let’s get to the heart of the matter. Yo, what the FUCK, gay media?

Is this what we do now? Throw out affirmation to heterosexual couples who would really, really like to do something for gay rights but who decide in the end marriage privilege is just a bit too tempting? Seriously. GLAAD can call out Twitter blunders from D-list celebrities but when it comes to a prominent power couple breaking a promise to the gay community, suddenly we want to plan the wedding.

Anyways, talking about celebrities makes me feel trite, so I’ll leave you with the point or whatever. 

Celebrities, please, do not wear our movement like a fashion trend. I know it may be hard for you to believe, but some of us really do struggle with oppression and marginalization and inequality. It’s cool that you care, we’ll take all the help we can get! But if you’re in this, you’re in this. And if you don’t follow through, well, I’m going to assume you just wanted to appear edgy and cool.

And gay media… I know how excited you are to leak the wedding pics, but seriously… You don’t necessarily have to call them out because, you know, I don’t think too many people give that much of a fuck. A small fuck perhaps, but certainly not a big one. But tripping over yourself to catch the bouquet? Weak.

Also, no more celebrity talk on this blog. Promise. Er, well, unless some crazy shit goes down. Okay?

I can’t say I know how he got there. Nor can I remember when he first appeared. It seems like all my life he’s been there, and I guess I never questioned why. But one day I gathered up the courage to address the man standing on my back, and our exchange went a little like this.

“Hello!” I call up to him. “How are you doing up there?”

“Splendid!” he replies. “You can see everything from up here!”

“Cool, cool,” I say. “I’m gad you’re enjoying yourself. If you don’t mind, though, I’d like to ask you a question.”

“Of course!” he says jovially. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well it’s been brought to my attention that you are standing on my back,” I say. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to stand up for a while and see things the way you see them up there.” 

“Oh…” he says, a change in his tone. “Well, I’d like to help, but I’d be considerably shorter if I step down from here. You see, I am somewhat taller with you lying there under my feet. I’m sorry, friend, but I can’t help you.”

I mull this over in my head. I don’t remember him pushing me down and getting on top of me. I don’t even know what it’s like to stand up - maybe it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I certainly hate to inconvenience this man who I barely know. All the same, though, I do think I’d like to try life not face down in the dirt.

“Well that’s just silly!” I say. “All you have to do is step down just a little bit. Then I can get up and we can stand together! The two of us! Maybe we can even go for a walk or something.”

“No,” he says plainly. “No, I’m afraid not. I feel badly for you, though! Things are great up here, but it sure would lessen my experience if I had to step down and share it with you. Sorry again!”

“That’s preposterous!” I shout. “You can’t just keep me down here! My back hurts and you’re really heavy and I’m starting to really not like you at all!”

“Oh!” he says, as if something just clicked in his head. “Oh… Oh my! How embarrassing, how embarrassing. I see why you’re upset, friend. Let me clarify. I certainly didn’t put you down there! No, not at all. My great-great-great-grandfather did! I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

Again, I think over what he just said. True, pushing me down is a much greater offense than simply standing there. Why, he probably had nothing to do with it! Still, you’d think the least he could do would be to… I don’t know… get off of my back.

“I understand,” I say. “It wasn’t you, but all the same, I’d appreciate it if you got off of me.”

“Hmm…” he says, mulling this over. “No.”

I am astonished at his cruelty. Would it really inconvenience him that much to step down so that I can breathe and stand up?

“That’s fucked up!” I say.

“Hostile…” he says. “Very hostile. I’m sensing hostility in you.”

“Yes I’m hostile!” I say. “I’m angry! I’m mad! I want you off my fucking back!”

“Language!” he snaps.

“Get. The Fuck. Off me!” I say.

“Well that’s not going to get you anywhere, is it?” he says. “You won’t convince me to do anything with that attitude.”

“I tried being polite!” I say, seething with rage. “It didn’t get me anywhere!”

“You attract more bees with honey than vinegar,” he says, blinking down at me.

I begin to feel that this is useless. Talking aout it isn’t doing me any good. So I start to shake and writhe and, with everything I have, try to push him off.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he says. “The hell do you think you’re doing down there?”

“I’m pushing you off,” I say. “I’m fed up.”

“This is violence!” he shrieks. “VIOLENCE!”

“Violence?!” I say, astonished. “What the actual fuck? You’re the one who won’t get off of me! This is your fault!”

“My fault?!” He says, genuinely surprised. “Ha! Don’t make me laugh! You’re the one causing a ruckus here, not me. You better calm down before I call the cops.”

I am perplexed at this. Surely, the police would understand that I am merely trying to get this person off my back and that my actions are justified. I continue my struggle.

“Okay buddy,” the man says, “I’m calling the cops.”

I’m not worried. The law is surely on my side, and when they arrive, I am actually relieved to see them.

“What seems to be the problem here?” they ask.

“This person here lying under my feet is causing quite a hullabaloo,” he says. “I feel very unsafe and I was hoping you could help me out here.”

I open my mouth to protest this, to maybe share my side of the story, but before I can, the police officer is in my face.

“Calm down, you!” he says, contempt in his voice. “Or I’ll be forced to take extreme measures!”

I keep my mouth closed.

“Good,” he says, and turns to the man standing on top of me. “Let us know if there’s another problem, sir.”

“Will do!” he says, smiling.

The police head out.

“I didn’t want to do that, you know,” he says to me. “You forced me.”

I sigh, brokenhearted. I look to my left - another man standing on someone else. 

I look to my right - same deal.

Indeed, all around me, there are people standing on top of other people. Some are even standing on many people piled high on one another. And I see many like me… the sad, dejected many, who struggle and sob and hurt. I look up at the man standing on my back and spit out some loose dirt in my mouth so I can speak.

“One day,” I say. “One day I’ll join you up there. And when I do, I won’t dare treat anyone the way you’ve treated me. I will carefully study my feet so that I know where I stand, and I will be vigilant to see if I am standing on another.”

“I wish you the best of luck with that,” he says, smiling wryly. “Truly, I do.”