Dear Christians With The Rainbow Shirt That Says "Jesus Hates The Sin But Loves The Sinner"
Re: Sunday and Walking The Christians.
Dear Christians:
We are probably the most open minded restaurant this side of
Dharma’s on 41st in Santa Cruz.
You can wear a Southern Battle Flag T-shirt here (Tim’s great
grandfather died fighting for the South in the same battle my great grandfather
was wounded in. They might have shot
each other!). You can wear IRA shirts,
and British rugby shirts. You can wear
ManU jerseys, even though we are Liverpool and Barce folk (Real Madrid….not so
much!)
Sorry......you can’t wear a t-shirt with a rainbow and some bullshit
words like: “Jesus hates the sin, but loves the sinner”. Hashtag: GTFOH!
I grew up as the bishop’s altar boy in Reno. My Ancestry.com tree is stacked with Jesuits
and Sacred Heart nuns as far as the eye can see. I am cool with Jesus and God and their Whole
Crew. I can still say the Our Father in
Latin…so back off.
My memory of the Jesus I met in the scriptures was a
revolutionary guy who lived at home with his mom until he was 33, hung around
with a dozen dudes, and whose best female friend was a hooker. Where do you get “homosexuality is a sin”
from that? The only time he actually got
his ire up was when he laid the lash to the bankers and moneylenders in the
Temple.
What was it you do for a living
again?
My Amanda just spent a month overseeing the passage of my
mom from this side to the next side. The
last ten days she spent 24-7 by her bedside, praying her soul out, trying to
connect Pat (and herself, and us) to the Whatever Comes Next. In Amanda’s world you don’t pray to one guy
or one thing…..you just fucking pray.
Somebody will hear, and that Something is probably beyond our feeble
tries at definition. The experience itself is transformative.
Amanda had in the Jews.
She had in the Buddhists. She had
in the Unitarians. She had in the
kindest, sweetest spiritual lady with crystals.
She had in Father Emil for Last Rites…..not to mention the daily visits
from the Shamanae nurses from the Hospice.
The vibe was intensely spiritual, peaceful and supportive. One day I arrived for a visit from trying to
keep all our balls in good juggling mode, and Amanda made me sit in the yard
for an hour with a glass of bubbly until my energy matched the house’s.
At no time were any of these devotedly spiritual people
anything but positive and generous. Zero
judgment or condescension…..even from
the Catholics. Against the enormity of
transformation and death….petty Earthly squabbles vanish.
You think Jesus gives a shit who has sex with who? Jesus is fucking Jesus, you morons!
Just because you are a hypocritical, judgmental asshole…don’t
flatter yourself that God made you in his image. Production-line errors are common. Consider yourself a spiritual Pinto, and believe
me, The Factory is anxious to recall your model before you do further damage to
The Brand.
I worked in Swiss and French kitchens long enough to become
toxically allergic to arrogance and condescension. It puts me off my feed.
So…..please move your
pure, virginal buttholes on to the next restaurant.
Perhaps they will be silly enough to believe
that the customer is always right.
Yours in Christ,
Mikey