Opus

Sermon, Corinthians 16:14

Small towns are great places to live, if you fit the “good Christian values”

mold. But as I’ve grown, and started to spill out of it, at least I have

my local church to support me. Wait. You shall not

give false testimony against your neighbor. Okay, in that case,

I hate the church.

No, I hate the people in the church. If that touched a nerve, feed me

to the wolves– no– feed me to the mob of worshippers, the same ones who

came for the angels Lot housed when he offered his daughters instead.

Preach the word to me, tell me He wants to welcome me to His

golden kingdom, but list all the things I’d have to change about myself

in order to make the cut. Please don’t forget to call me a Jezebel when I say

I simply don’t understand how my assaulter will make it to the

pearly gates before I will, how I am a whore who put myself

in a position to lose my value, but ensure me I am a martyr

who sacrificed my position in the afterlife for someone else

all in the same breath.

Hunt me down and burn me at the stake in the name of God because

you caught me kissing a girl, but never shine that light on the

dirty little secrets you house behind the altar– news flash:

your pastor is touching little boys.

And after you’re finished with me, go home to your whiskey (God says

you shouldn’t do that either, but never mind those verses) to take the

edge off, hold your Bible close to your chest– nevermind that the

spine is unbroken– and remind your poor repressed kids that God said:

let all you do be done in love. I wonder if my scorched skin stares

at those kids the way it stares at me in the holy water reflection. I hope

someday your small town ways will change, but I know that

the person will break before the mold ever does.

Abi Rhee

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