There Was A Time

There was a time,
When the walk to the altar
Was filled with apprehension
And dread.

Will they ask the Questions?
And how will I handle it?
Will I wither and die before their stares?
Will I lie rather than face the embarrassment?
Will I turn and walk out in defiance?

All choices born of confrontation.
Do I stand and answer?
Do I challenge their right?
Do I fight for my right?

What do I gain by staying or lying, or confronting?
What do I gain by putting them through it –
By putting myself through it.

I believe that they are embarrassed
For what they are made to do.
They follow blindly,
The edicts of Rome.
Although they may be slow to administer,
They never challenge, never question.

In the end, of course, the choice is mine.
It always has been.
The fear to change was fraught
With superstition
They washed my brain,
All those years ago.

The nuns, the priests, the brothers –
Piling on the guilt, the fear
There God is the only God.
Their church is the only church.
Their way, the only way - -
To salvation and Christ.

I was being crushed, ground under
By guilt, by shame
Don’t you have the guts to stick it out?
Don’t you have the guts to leave?
How can you abandon your church, your God?
What kind of vile scum are you?

And then the moment arrives.
The straw finally breaks the proverbial back
I can’t do - that one - final - thing.
I can’t stand at the altar Of God
And lie.

I see the truth. Finally.
God isn’t asking me to lie
God is asking me to see the truth
God doesn’t ask such things of men
Men do these things in his name.
Men beat you down.
Men pile on the guilt
Men make the rules – to control,
To justify their own actions,
To reinforce their own beliefs.

And so, I move on
To a place of acceptance.
Where there are no questions,
Of my sexual preference
Or whether I think women have a
Right to choose what is best for themselves,
Or whether I think that priests should have a right to marry

And so, I move on
To a place of love
Where I kneel at the altar of God
And profess my love for him,
Just as I know that he loves me.
Where I take Holy Communion.
And no one questions.

And so, I move on
And I speak to people of the congregation
About myself, about my beliefs,
About all those things that define
Who I am. All those things,
That make me human.

And they accept me for who I am
And what I am.
And they love me for who I am
And what I am.
And I in return love them and
For perhaps the first time in my life
I feel truly happy, truly blessed.


Bill - January 17, 2007