I was Catholic. Then I was a Gay Catholic. Then I was a Gay ex-Catholic.

[hunter]

16. Hunter doesn't leave the Church, the Church leaves Hunter.

Nope, I've never been physically removed from a church (unlike like my mom) but I still go with the attitude that I don't belong to the Church, the Church belongs to me and my community. If the Church hasn't yet been brave enough to ask me about that money they don't get from me, then I don't expect they ever will be.

I'm pretty sure they know.

My parents, and my wife's parents started using birth control after they'd birthed a few more kids than they could comfortably support. This was the 'sixties. After that they were birth control using heretics.

I'm pretty comfortable as a gay rights activist, father of only two kids, and overall heretic.

I've got a lot of the same feelings for the Church as I do the USA itself. It is an integral part of my community. Unlike the USA, I can pick and choose how I support the Church. If I stop paying my Federal taxes because I don't want them to spend my money on war then the IRS gets on my case. If I don't put any money in the collection basket, nobody asks. I'm utterly shameless about that.

I'm fortunate to live in a community with a somewhat liberal Church. I've lived in and visited places where the Roman Catholic (and even the Episcopal Churches) seem to be competing with the right wing fundamentalists to see how many people they can label as outcasts to throw under their Jesus bus. My parents used to live in a place like that. Attending Mass more than once or twice a year there was intolerable to anyone politically left of Bill O'Reilly or Newt Gingrich, even anyone still exercising half a brain. Mass was attended regularly by a bunch of Fox News watching fossils who held a secret suspicion that Vatican II was the work of Satan. My Italian great uncle, a guy who loved everyone, and everyone loved, a guy who had gay friends in Hollywood long before that was cool, a giving Christian in so many ways, got possibly the worst funeral ever. I can summarize in a single sentence paraphrasing what the fossil priest said, "This dude wasn't a good Catholic and is probably going to hell so be afraid and pray for your own soul."

Um, okay, Father. I'm not afraid of supporting civil rights and loving my neighbor. How about you? You could feel the whispering snark in the air, almost as bad as when one of my childhood friends married a fundy. "Obey your husband," the fundy preacher said. Nope, that ain't going to happen in this matriarchal community. Little do you know, husband, your bow hunting days are over. You're going to be a vegetarian like your wife. And it was so. One of my brothers ended up in a similar situation, but fortunately surfing wasn't a sin in her religion. My brother surfs while his wife and kids ride horses.

This poor Priest didn't last long at my great uncle's wake. Everyone was drinking and laughing and being very Irish. After Father left a few virgins may have been lost. If it happened in my great uncle's strawberry patch or next to his bait worm farm then my great uncle is probably still laughing about it. If you are very quiet you might hear him.