It always amuses and shites me when religious nutters vent their vitriol on our websites.

Last week I attracted the ravings of a parochial pill named Brian. I respect his right to an opinion. But his people send toxic messages to GLBT youth who have a hard enough time. As far as I’m concerned, show me a Pentecostal born-again and I’ll show you someone pimping Jesus. Got a colourful past? Want to make parole? Hallelujah! The perfect disguise.

Honestly, if they weren’t so hostile, they’d be comical.

Much like that infomercial faith healer with the silver rinse and Madonna headset. You know, that little chanting person, evidently curing terminal illness. Yes, that right. Western medicine was wrong. Got a brain tumour? Just rock up to one of these ‘charismatic’ soirees, sway and mumble, arms outstretched, absorbing the energy of the Lord. Let Benny touch your forehead, and fall dramatically into the arms of his minions.

Here’s an excerpt: “Oh, I said hail. Glory. Glory. Thank you God. Glory be. In my urinary tract. In my kidneys. In my toes. Infused with the life of Jesus. I receive him. It’s in me. Deliverance is mine. I put a knife to my throat and become aware of the deceitful meat. Body. Spirit. Mind. Hail, mighty Lord.”

Are they insane?

I think I’d rather battle the cancer knowing I hadn’t lost my mind. Don’t worry kids. It’s not you, it’s them. I think they’re a few pedophiles short of a pastorate. Religion and the church have become very different things. And no, I don’t care for bigoted adaptations of your little handbook. It’s historically flawed and apparently been translated 66 times in several languages by 39 people over 1500 years. Yup, no margin for error there.

While I find myself enduring the double life of a con artist and their deluded ramblings — something about finding God under the sofa one day while looking for the stash — I see the misery. I see the deception, the emptiness. I guess I take comfort in being happy with who I am.

And so should you. If you’re still finding your way, ignore the crazed happy clappers. Jesus would not be okay with their hate, their hypocrisy, and their homophobia. You’re not ‘an abomination’. Or any other pious pejorative. It’s not you, it’s them.

And love is not a crime.

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