Seperation of Church and Vinny

I love my family. I really do, more than anything. My mother, who died when I was 5, loved her family and her God. I was raised, since birth, in a fairly strict conservative household, son of a Corrections Officer / Vietnam Parachute Instructor and a Catholic School Teacher. Alright, so strict is an understatement. I went to Catholic School my whole life until I enrolled at Brooklyn for my MA. My family is staunchly Roman Catholic. I’m not one to suffer in silence, in fact I’m a bit of a bitch. But with this, for my family, I sat through homily after homily about ‘unconditional love and understanding’ from an organization whose leader Benedict said “homosexuals are the greatest evil in the world”.   My Cardinal! The Cardinal of the diocese where I went to school and said “Our Fathers” and “Hail Marys” for most of my life,  said religious people of all creeds need to unite against homosexuality. Well, that my friends  is it.

God hates?

Tonight, as amendment 1 was being passed despite some of my friends valiant efforts against it, I decided to tell my father I wouldn’t be going to any more church functions. I cannot abide this organization that speaks of my ilk and I being the devil. He’s stunned and I’m crying.

I sat there on Sunday, listening to a priest lecture how Jesus loves all, but those nonbelievers without Jesus will die cut off and alone.

Frankly, fuck that noise.

I’m going to the two Christenings over the next few weeks I committed to, because I love my cousins deeply, but that’s it.  Wedding, Baptism, Communion, Confirmation, all those fun family events are taken from me by a church of which I’ve done nothing to. And that’s fine, but I’ll be damned if I’ll attend any services in a Catholic Church and make them think I support the Church’s archaic homophobic homophobic bullshit.

I don’t believe in lamenting regrets, but this is something I should have done long ago.

My mom died believing in Jesus and Unconditional Love, not this sham you call a ‘church’ wrapping hate and fear in ‘the Good book’.

I’m gay. I didn’t choose to be that way. I was Catholic. I chose to stop that. One day, you’ll bury me, and it won’t be in a Catholic Cemetery.

I’m cool with that.



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