Church hurt is valid and what I learned from it
By Kurt Alec Mira
A few years ago, a close friend, who’s a devout Christian, invited me to attend a worship event somewhere near the campus. Of course, I went together with them and the community welcomed me with a warm presence. In all honesty, they were marvelous. Despite being a stranger, I felt like I was a part of them in an instant.
Long story short, that feeling didn’t last long.
One time, I was listening to a pastor when he mentioned how men should only marry women and vice versa. At that very moment, I told myself that I didn’t come out of the closet only to confine myself again for the sake of religious obedience. And so, I immediately left and never came back.
We’re no strangers to religious gaslighting. I knew some members who also departed the congregation because of one certain similarity: we’re not straight. As a queer Catholic, living in this country is a love-hate relationship with the Church. Oftentimes, I ask myself, “How far can religious gaslighting go?”
Majority of these so-called followers of Christ, if you ask me, post bible verses on their social media profiles — some of which entail loving thy neighbor. But then once you scroll past those sanctimonious talks of moral righteousness come stretches of hypocrisy and pretentiousness.
Visiting the church on Sabbath, praying to the Lord on a daily basis, or attending bible studies doesn’t guarantee anyone a ticket to heaven. Because if you think you do, you’re not a good Christian. You’re just scared of going to hell. This kind of mindset brings me to remember the Netflix horror Midnight Mass, which criticized the blind belief in religion and how it could play a critical part in making or destroying a community.
Not everything is about religion
In a predominantly Catholic country, religion has always been the saving grace of the majority. Whenever there’s a disaster, many ask for the Lord’s guidance and mercy. Whenever we suffer from an illness, we’re told to pray to God and ask for His healing. Conclusively, it’s been grounded in our tradition and culture to put religion on top of everything.
Growing up queer with unstable mental health taught me one thing: prayers aren’t always the answer. But the stigma towards mental health vis-a-vis religion is undeniably rampant. When the laity misunderstands poor mental health with a lack of faith, any conversations about it end up in disaster. Every now and then, I have read stories where one would open up to their parents about their mental state, only to hear the infamous line, “Kulang ka lang sa dasal.”
Some might say that they don’t mean ill, but these responses gravely invalidate the experiences of people with mental disorders, as if they’re non-existent. Depression isn’t a spiritual problem. It’s not something that prayers can get rid of because Jesus loves you, or because God wouldn’t give us problems we can’t solve.
Experiencing Church hurt has taught us to cope in our own special ways. Definitely, no one would ever forget that, a few weeks after its revelation, Thomasians jokingly made the new tiger statue’s mouth a wishing well to receive good grades during the preliminary examinations. Unsurprisingly, the tiger was barricaded by the University in hopes to stop the phenomenon. While it was just a harmless joke, a University official even cried foul, stating that we should pray to the Lord for guidance in taking the examinations.
Funny thing is, among other things which keep the University quiet, this is where they draw the line. Needless to say, this also caught the attention of the unrecognized, satire-looking Facebook page, which vehemently accused Thomasians of idolatry and having weak faith.
But in defense of Thomasians against these forced narratives, we cope through humor — which is one of the things self-proclaimed Christians failed to understand. The other is acceptance.
The long road to acceptance
For years, Pride March — which was born thanks to Marsha P. Johnson and the Stonewall protests — has been an annual celebration of queers, together with allies, to express self-acceptance but more importantly, to uphold our rights and call attention to our shared struggles.
Many of us are tolerated. In fact, many religious organizations say that they respect the LGBTQ+ community, but why are they protesting against SOGIE? Is this as good as it gets? With many LGBTQ+ personalities such as Vice Ganda championing equal rights, the country still treats progress terribly. But, as horrible as it sounds, it’s not surprising at all.
Not long ago, a certain netizen, who is actually a member of a Christian church called Jesus Miracle Crusade International Ministry, posted on Facebook a spiritual testimony of young men who happened to be “healed and delivered” from the sin of being gay. Which, in other words, is conversion therapy.
Bible Baptist pastor-turned-politician Bienvenido M. Abante Jr. caused an uproar in social media when he filed the infamous HB 5717 Heterosexual Act. His justification? To protect the rights of heterosexuals who are actual creations of the Lord, while calling LGBTQ+ rights merely ‘special claims’.
As such, don’t get me started that the majority in this country are Catholics that’s why SOGIE, same-sex marriage, and divorce bills always hit a dead end. Last November 20, Justice Secretary Jesus Crispin Remulla rejected the calls of the United Nations to pass the bills aforementioned because our country, according to him, isn’t ready for them due to our Catholicism.
Knowing how such news and stories remain to be in the headline, I’m now convinced that when Christian homophobes dream of queer folks, they call it a nightmare.
A lot of things to fix
But after every awful thing that happened to us because of religion, believe me when I say that there are many members of the community, who have been called unimaginable names, still, have faith in God. And that includes me.
If there’s one truth that I have to confess, it’s that nothing feels safer than being inside the Santissimo Rosario, which has been my safe space in UST every time I feel burdened, broken, and burned out. Many might not know this, but the silence that floods the whole church, whenever I seek refuge in the Lord, is always loud enough to empty my mind. It’s freeing, and that’s what everyone should experience — not hate, never judgment.
That’s why, in retrospect, there are a lot of things to fix and change in a Church filled with hypocrisy and pretentiousness. Church hurt, similar to generational trauma, can only be treated when religious people are courageous enough to accept everyone without reservation. Religious gaslighting taught me one thing: I’ve only met a few people who are real Catholics. Those who open their doors to everyone and choose inclusivity — this is what it means to be Catholic.
Times are changing. Perhaps, if the Lord became a man today, He’d tell His disciples to hug those who are viewed differently by society. But that depends on the Church now to do so.
