Religion

Here is the first of my many future posts on religion. Yes, I have decided to take on the BIG SUBJECT, religion.



I was raised as a Baptist. As a child I enjoyed going to Sunday school. I even have a certificate for perfect attendance at a Summer Sunday School in Downingtown, Pennsylvania, which you know is pretty darn good for a 10 year old kid out of school.



Where I went off the rails with religion was when my Aunt Margaret took me to church with her one Sunday at her church in West Chester, Pennsylvania. The church was a Pentecostal Church. I believe I was about 12 years old at the time.



My one searing memory of the sermon that day was that the pastor who delivered the sermon scared me to death. He was a red haired, pale faced man but when he delivered his sermon his face was red and it seemed like foam was coming from his mouth. The only part of the sermon that I remembered was him screaming "You are a sinner! You were born in sin! You will die in sin! You must accept Jesus Christ as your savior or else you will burn eternally in the fires of Hell!"



As I left church that sunny, brisk day in leafy West Chester, I was shaken. At ten years old I already knew I was "different." I was aware of my homosexuality but I didn't know the name for it other than "fairy" for the ten letter word beginning with "c" and ending in "r." I knew that wasn't me so I didn't know what I was. Remember, this was in the early Fifties (1951 to be exact.)



From that day to this day I have never looked at organized religion the same way again. Oh yes, I have gone to different churches over the past fifty years. But I have never regained the comfort I had when attending Sunday school.



I could never express adequately in words what turned me away from the organized church other than this pastor who obviously relished the fact he was scaring the be Jesus out of his congregation by passing judgment on them over something they had no control (being born.) It wasn't until a recent e-mail exchange with a fellow blogger who is an atheist that I realized what the problem was. The church I went to that Sunday wasn't about peace and love. That church was about obedience. You obey and you get to Heaven because you're born with a major strike against you. You are a sinner. No matter what kind of life you lead, no matter how exemplary your conduct, unless you ACCEPT Jesus Christ as your Savior, you're not getting into Heaven.



Over the past fifty some years I've read a lot about different religions. I've tried some of them on for size. None fit exactly. None gave me the comfort level that they obviously give their many millions of devoted followers. Oh sure, I could tell my friends that I accept Jesus as my savior to please them but in my heart I just didn't feel it. And that is what it is all about any isn't it? You have to feel it in your heart.



It is my belief that this obedience aspect of organized religion comes from our European medieval heritage. Back in the Dark Ages the way the nobility (not us) kept the serfs (us) in line was to promise them a golden after life. They made this promise in lieu of the horrible circumstances serfs lived in; poverty, filth, disease and lack of freedom. The promise was "Sacrifice now for the prosperous after life in Heaven." Does this sound familiar? It should. That's what the terrorist suicide bombers are promised if they sacrifice their life by killing the Infidel.



How did I arrive at this belief? For one thing there is a lot of emphasis in all religions, especially the Christian religion about "praising God." Also, have you noticed God is always referred to as "The Lord?" How did the peasants and serfs refer to their nobles in medieval times? They bowed and said "Yes, my Lord." They also did a lot of praising. This is not a coincidence. It is a fundamental part of the culture of the Christian religion.



So you sacrifice today for a better after life. You do a lot of praying but make sure you give sufficient praise and under no circumstance DO NOT MOCK GOD. To many fundamentalist religious persons, any criticism of The Word or their belief is MOCKING GOD. “Do not mock God!” One half expects Charleton Heston to appear as Moses issuing thunderbolts from his fingertips to zap anyone to dares to question the existence of God.

This is just the first of many future postings I will have on this subject. My stating my religious belief, or lack thereof, I am not demeaning or criticizing those who do find comfort in an organized religion. I do understand that religious rituals offer comfort to many in this threatening and dangerous world. The way I feel about it is that if you find comfort in religion, then I am happy for you. I am happy the same way I would be if you found comfort in sailing a boat or spending time with your family. But when one takes their religion and tries to shove it down my throat because they want to "save" me, that am when I rebel.



It has never been satisfactorily explained to me how Jesus died for me. That he died to wash me of my sins. Sins that I was born with. Again, I remember back to that sermon on that spring day in April in West Chester, Pennsylvania. The thought that ran through my head was, "I didn't ask to be born and here I was born and I don't have a chance because I'm a sinner." The only way I could not be a sinner to take this nebulous step of "accepting" Jesus Christ as my savior.



What does "accepting" actually mean? Does it mean going through this charade even though my heart didn't feel it just to please my friends, relatives, and neighbors. Does it mean living a lie?



All my life I have been pushed, encouraged and then demanded to live a lie just because I happened to be born a homosexual. "Do this or something bad will happen to you." It just didn't make sense to me.



For many years I struggled with this dilemma, pleasing my friends, relatives and neighbors or be true to myself. Perhaps the turning point came about ten years ago when I was having an in depth discussion with a long time friend of mine who I like and respect in spite of his hard core conservative Republican and religious views.



He told me I would never get to Heaven unless I accepted Jesus Christ as my savior. I asked him, "Do you mean if I led an explemary life, harmed no one and then died I would not go to Heaven." He said (as best I can remember it) "Ron, Ted Bundy will go to Heaven before you will. He will go because he accepted Jesus Christ on his death bed (Mr. Bundy, a serial killer was about to be executed)



I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Ted Bundy, a notorious serial killer, would go to Heaven in spite of all the evil he did during his time on earth, but I, a quiet, unassuming, honest, good hearted, woefully naive, guy would not go to Heaven no matter what I did. Plus, I had another BIG strike against me because I would not renounce the sinfulness of my homosexuality. The way I figure it, I was born the way I was for a reason and that reason wasn't some big test of wills.



I think that day was the day I stopped believing and saw through the hypocrisy of organized, or "man-made" religion (as I call it.)



I will continue to lead my life the best way I can. Of course I know I'm not perfect but I'm not an evil person either. I do like to engage in gossip every once in a while and sometimes I experience schadenfreude. But other than that I'm a pretty uncomplicated person who wishes the best for my friends, neighbors, relatives and humanity. If I believe anything it is the belief that those among us who are truly evil will receive their comeuppance either in this life or the afterlife. Maybe there is such a thing as reincarnation and they will come back as a cockroach or some other despised life form. That makes more sense to me than all the contradictory religious teachings and proselytzing of Christians.



One thing that makes perfect sense to me is that if there is a Heaven and I get there some day I know I won't see that preacher who shouted at me all those years ago.

Facebook

I lost my Facebook connection.

Friday morning, as is my usual routine, I turn my computer on to bring up Facebook and fill out "What's on your mind..." I get a message "Facebook is down for maintenance for a few hours, we apologize for the inconvenience."



Okay, a small inconvenience. I would try to sign on later in the morning. That I did. I got the same message. "Facebook is down for maintenance for a few hours, we apologize for the inconvenience."



The rest of the day I tried to sign on to Facebook. Still no go. The next day, same message.



Then I decided to Google and see if Facebook's website was under attack. I saw some old messages but nothing current.



Sunday it was the same message. Monday morning I decide to take matters into my own hands. I gave my problem a lot of thought and came up with the conclusion that Facebook probably suspended my account because I used my MSN e-mail as my user ID. The problem is that I never use my MSN account and thus have never answered all the Facebook e-mails that occur anytime there is activity in my Facebook account.



I sign into my MSN account and see where I had 3,624 messages. Therein lies the problem.



I created a new Facebook account with my AOL sign on. Yesterday I started to rebuild my Friends list. Now my Facebook account is almost up to date. I am whole again.



I am surprised at how easy I became addicted to Facebook. I'm not one to go with popular trends but this is one that hooked me. Facebook is a social network that has enabled me to get in touch with relatives (my nephew and nieces) and long lost friends. Facebook also has a very user friendly web site that is fun to use.



I know there are some who denigrate such social networking web sites. I used to be one of them. However, last year the son of a former classmate of mine convinced me to join. He said as much as I like to blog that I would love Facebook. This young man knew me better than I knew myself. He was right. I do like it.



Those who criticize such web sites say we should get away from the computer and get out and meet people in real life. I agree that we should meet people in real life but I also believe there is a place and need for such Internet social network sites. They enhance rather than replace normal social interaction.



Many of us are not geographically close to our former friends and relatives. Social network sites like Facebook enable us to keep in touch with those people that we otherwise would have lost contact with forever.



For those friends who live just down the street there is also a need to keep in contact by Facebook. Facebook e-mails are more selective. You selected the "Friends" who you want to receive and send e-mail. Unlike a regular e-mail Inbox, Facebook's e-mail inbox has mail only from friends that you select.



"What's on your mind?" All is right with the world again, I'm back with my Friends.

Class Reunion Update

Well I finally finished inputting all the information on the class reunion questionnaire that I received from my former classmates.

50th REUNION

OF THE

CLASS OF 1959

WHITFORD COUNTRY CLUB

DOWNINGTOWN, PA

I updated the template I had of my 45th class reunion in Word on my computer. That sounds easy but there was a lot of cutting, pasting and just plain old keyboarding (aka as "typing.") Boy is I glad my Mom made me take typing class in high school. Back in the Fifties when I went to high school, boys did not take Typing class. They took Shop class. Actually, I wanted to take Home Ec (for "Home Economics" or how to cook) class but boys didn't take that class either. Oh yes, the Fifties was very misogynic. But Mom insisted that I take Typing. She said "You can always use typing skills, what good is taking study hall?" My teenage mind actually thought Study Hall was pretty cool because I could goof off that fifty minutes every day grab assing with my friends. But as usual, Mom was right. Thank you Mom.



So, I got all the typing done for the reunion questionnaires. I sat at this computer for at least ten hours or more both Friday and Saturday. That pile of questionnaires didn't seem to go down but finally I got to the last one. Was my aching back ever glad to turn over that last sheet?



Then I had to face the challenge of the cover sheet. My former classmate Patisue (I never could pronounce her name, I just call her "Pat") called me on my cell phone Saturday after I was returning from my weekly Saturday morning breakfast with Bill at Zorba's Greek restaurant of buttermilk pancakes. No surprise, Pat (or Patisue) hadn't done anything with the cover yet. She said "Nothing is hitting me." Hmmmm. This is where Clark Kent rips open his shirt to display the big "S" of the Superman logo.



I had some thoughts in my mind to do something really original for the cover page. The main idea being taking the names of all of the 114 graduating students of the Downingtown High School Class of 1959 and fitting their names in the big 50 logo. You know the outline of 50 with all their names squeezed in. That my friend is easier said than done.



I Googled the question "insert text into 50 number." What do I find? Links to web sites with terribly convoluted instructions on creating the "box" (in this case the number 50) and inserting a "string" (in this case being the names of my classmates) into the "box." I'm here to tell you that my poor, feeble, 67 year old brain just cannot process the complex formula I was presented with. It just was not possible.



I put a HELP call out on FB. My cousin Tim Tipton acknowledged my HELP call but did nothing. Now I can't even get Facebook up. I fear that I crashed the whole FB system with my request.



And that's another thing. I'm in withdrawal because I haven't been able to access my FB account all day. What in the world is going on with that? I Google the question "Why is Facebook down?" and all I get are links to previous down times. Nothing current. Oh well, maybe this is Tough Love. FB to me was always a guilty pleasure. I don't think any of my Friends were really interested in what I had to say but I sure did have fun typing in several times a day "What's on your mind?" Occasionally I would post a You Tube video (I hear they're having connection problems too today) that I was sure would irritate some of my Friends. I think the best think I like about FB is that I saw where my nephew (I only have one); nieces, and grandnieces are although they rarely communicated with Uncle Ronnie (my name in my Previous Life.)



But I digress. Back to the cover sheet for my reunion booklet. I decided to go generic. Viola! It looked great. Then I decided to add the picture of our old high school on Manor Avenue in Downingtown, PA. We were the last graduating class out of that high school. I have many fond memories of that old stone building (that is still standing by the way.) The old photo of our high school, with some of the Class of '59 classmates lounging around outside is perfect. Now we have something special.



I sent it to Carole, our reunion Drill Sergeant (otherwise known as the Organizer, which she is very good at.) Carole likes it. She says "I like the white background. The page jumps out at you!"



So there you go. I have The Boss's approval. Now all that needs to be done is get it printed and mailed off to Carole with the CD-ROM of the 75 pages of the reunion booklet. Our former classmate Jack S. will take care of the bulk printing and binding. Jack does this every five years. He's good at it. We each have our talents. Carole is very good at coordinating this group of Golden Oldies from the last graduating class of the Fifties.



Carole told me there were a few more reunion questionnaires that I have to input that she will send to me this week. After I update them I'll send her the CD-ROM. Then that ends my responsibilities of the reunion committee. Now all I have to think about is do I wear the same suit to the reunion that I wore to the last two reunions.



Those reunions were the 40th and the 45th. I have a suit that is that old? I surely do. When I left banking I gave all my old suits to my brother John, who is a pastor at southern fundamentalist church in Greenville, South Carolina. He says a lot of young students go to his church (he used to be the Youth Pastor) and many of them didn't even have suits to wear to Sunday Go to Meeting. I was only too happy to donate most of my suits. I kept two blue suits for funerals. One a solid Navy blue and the other a pin stripe blue suit. And there they sit in my closet awaiting the next funeral or class reunion, whichever comes first.



By the way, the sharp looking young man standing in the doorway of the high school. Recognize him? Yipper. That's yours truly. My Claim to Fame.   Haven't change a bit.

I Want a Cat

Tonight I met a cat that I fell in love with. Unfortunately he belongs to another.




His name is Matt. He is a six year old big, fat, lazy, orange, male tabby cat.



Matt belongs to my friend Dan. Or more accurately, I should say that Dan belongs to Matt.



I knew it was love at first sight when I saw Matt curled up on a comfy cushion when I entered my friend Dan's house tonight. Matt paid me not attention but I couldn't take my eyes off of him.



Boldly, I strode over to Matt and gave him one very loving stroke from his head to his tail.



Matt raised his head slightly issued a sound like "huh?"



Once he saw that I wasn't Dan, he curled back into his fetal position.



Dan, Bob and I gathered around the couch to hash out the issues of the day, Matt moved from the cushion to Dan's lap, paying me no heed at all even though my eyes were boring a hole through him.



Later, Matt moved to the back of the couch where we were sitting. I said some endearing words to him, hoping to win over his heart. And this is what I received in return. He gave me a look that said "please go away."



Matt, I will go away now but I know that someday, someday I will have a kitty cat just like you Matt.



Sweet dreams my feline friend.

The Power of Prayer

Today's posting is a little different for me. As though of you who know me personally, you know that I do not buy into "man-made" religion. Another way of describing "man-made" religion is that or the organized church. The organized Christian Church left me when I was 10 years old because of my homosexuality. There are those friends of mine who criticize me for "always being the victim." Well, sorry about that but when the man-made church tells me I will burn in Hell for eternity because of who I am, and then I have no choice but to leave that church for the Select Few who were lucky enough to be born with the socially acceptable chromosome makeup.

After I left the organized man-made Christian Church when I was 10 years old I continued to have my own personal religion. Many times over the years I have prayed for guidance in this perilous minefield called Life. Many times I have had guidance from a Greater Power that has helped me through some very difficult times. I don't know whether it was my guardian Angel or Buddha or just a Spirit in the Sky. One thing I do know is that organized religion has never helped me nor has man helped me. The only thing that has gotten me this far in life (67 years) is my personal spiritual belief.

A friend sent me an e-mail this morning that best epitomizes the way I feel sometimes. The friend who sent this e-mail to me this morning is going through a difficult time of her life at this time. She recently lost her job. Then she discovered she had breast cancer. Just last week she lost her father, with whom she has lived with and cared for these many years. Now she is alone except for her brother who is caring for her.



I met my friend many years ago (1965) when I worked at Girard Bank in Philadelphia. She started work a short time after I began working for the bank. We were good friends even after we both changed our jobs and went to work for another bank up the street when Mellon Bank took over Girard Bank.



We worked together at the new bank for about seven years until I left in 1994. Over the years we have remained in touch by e-mail. Her friendship is one of the few I have maintained over the years in all my job changes and travels. She is one of those True Friends. I am very fortunate because I have a handful of these True Friends whose friendship I value more than just about anything.



My friend believes in religion but makes no judgments. My friend doesn't warn me about burning in Hell because I am a homosexual and I refuse to "accept" Jesus Christ as my Savior. My friend does not discount me as a human being because of my homosexuality. My friend does not patronize me by saying she "tolerates" me in spite of my "weakness." My friend accepts me just as I am, a human being created in the image of God.



This is her prayer. It has meaning for me. I want to share it with others who feel as I do. And why do I post an image of a made-made representation of Jesus Christ? It is only a symbol of Peace and Love which in the end is what religion is all about anyway.



 

This prayer is powerful, and prayer is one of the best gifts we receive. There is no cost but a lot of rewards.



Let's always pray for one another.






The prayer:






Father,


Thank you for each and every day you have


blessed us here on earth.


Thank you for your tender mercies.


Thank you for giving us friends and family to share these internet joys with. I ask you to bless my friends, relatives and those I care deeply for who are reading this right now.






Where there is joy, give them continued joy.


Where there is pain, give them your peace and mercy.






Where there is self-doubt, release a renewed confidence.


Where there is need, fulfill their needs.






Bless their homes, families, finances, their goings and their comings.














In Jesus' name..






Amen.

Class Reunion Questionnaire

My 50th high school class reunion is taking place Saturday, October 17th at the Whitford Country Club in Downingtown, Pennsylvania. 

I am the guy who is preparing and updating the reunion booklet.  I just received a passel of completed reunion questionnaires.  You know what that means?  No blog postings for at least a few days until I get update my reunion booklet template in Word and get it copied to a CD-ROM.  I'll send the CD-ROM to my former classmate Carole who will get it off to the printer. 

Time is a wasting.  I'll miss posting to my blog but I get to get this burden off of my shoulders. 

Oh, and yes, I did volunteer for this job.  That's just the way I roll.

P.S.
The above photo is a classic Fifties cheesecake. I found the photo in my processed photos that I picked up from Sam Charles’s newsstand in the summer of 1955. I knew who most of the girls were but I never told them I had this photo. They're probably wondering to this day what happened to their photo. I'm coming clean now. Check out the guy in the back doing the hula.  That's what caught my eye. :)

Why I Blog

Blogging: (blŏg-ging)




. An enjoyable pastime:


. A way of expressing emotions, ideas and opinions in a public realm:




. A way of meeting like-minded people bypassing geographical or cultural barriers:



. A form of self-medication:



I took the definition of blogging from a fellow blogger's blog, Ramblings of the Bearded One. Thank you Kim Ayers for your inspiration. You are a true undiscovered talent (albeit slowly being discovered.)


For those of you who know me personally and those of you who have stumbled across my blogs, the answer to the question of "Why I Blog" is "All of the above."

. An enjoyable pastime:


Yes, that is me. I have always loved to write. From the time I was a teenager writing to pen pals until my adulthood writing Letters to the Editor of local and national newspapers. I get a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment from writing. Probably the same sense of satisfaction and accomplishment that a musician or an athlete receives when they engage in their favorite activity.

. A way of expressing emotions, ideas and opinions in a public realm:


Oh yes. Anyone who knows me personally knows that I rarely hesitate of express my emotions, ideas and opinions. However, I have tried to tamp down my rants and raves about the current political scene because so many others already do it much better than me. However, there are times when I simply cannot hold myself back and I have to express my opinion over some current political situation.

. A way of meeting like-minded people bypassing geographical or cultural barriers:

Yes, this is a goal of mine but so far it has not happened much to my surprise. I have met some very nice people who have left comments on some of my blogs and I have even gained one follower other than a friend. But I had expected to meet many more people worldwide who would find my blog of interest. But then, maybe what I have suspected all along in my 67 years on this earth, I may not be the most interesting person. Ironically if this is true, it does not affect my self image one iota. Maybe I have a healthy ego or I'm just not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I've always been pretty happy with myself. There have been a few times I've slipped and I wish I could have done things a different way but who I am? I'm quite satisfied with who I am, thank you.

. A form of self-medication:


Oh yes, definitely. Whenever I'm down (depressed), all I have to do is write a blog or an entry into my personal journal and euphoria returns. I can't exactly explain how this works but it seems once I write down either what I'm doing, what I did, what I'm going to do or what I wish to do; I immediately feel like I'm okay again. I am not alone.


Perhaps that is the Number One reason I write a blog, I am not alone.

I remember years ago when my Great Aunt Grace (my Mother's aunt) asked my Mother: "Why does Ronnie write to pen pals? Doesn't he have any friends?" (Note: "Ronnie" is my childhood name, "Ron" is my adult name.)


I was maybe 12 years old when my Mother related Aunt Grace's question to me. At the time I thought that is why I did have pen pals, because of the paucity of my friendships. Oh I did have a few friends. In fact I have a few very good friends. But still I felt I was missing something. Perhaps I wanted to contact the world outside of my little five mile radius of Downingtown, Pennsylvania where I grew up.

It wasn't until I joined the Army when I was 18 years old that I gave up all my pen pals (save one, I wrote to her about a year into my Army enlistment until I finally gave her up too - Sorry Nancy Jo Stoker of Waterloo, Iowa.)


Looking back now I probably gave up the pen pals because I had a lot of friends or at least comradeship when I was in the Army. There was always something to do, somewhere to go, and someone to go with.


After the Army, when I young and pretty and full of life and zest, I hit the nightlife scene of a young gay man. Again, there was very little if no time for reaching out into the Great Unknown to make friends and acquaintances. With my youthful good looks and refreshing innocence, I made many friends (and more) in the gay bar scene (no false modesty here, I'm telling it like it is....or was.)



Then I entered into a life long relationship with my life partner (still going on.) My career (in trust bank operations) monopolized my time and I also gained many more friends and acquaintances through my work place.


However, now that I am retired (I do work part time at a hotel where I meet people), I feel as if I've completed the full cycle.


I haven't made as many friends as I thought I would down here in what is considered the gay capital of the East Coast. That's probably because of a combination of factors, the main one being that I'm not from the D.C. gay crowd. Also, I have several serious drawbacks which make me an unlikely candidate for multiple friendships. I'm way too naive. I have a passive/aggressive personality which doesn't fit well with most friendships. However, I have made a few friends and I treasure and value greatly their friendship (you know who are are.)



Some of the other reasons why I'm not a candidate for Miss Geniality are that I'm way too honest. I do like to gossip (but not harmful gossip or is that an oxymoron?) I am very private and I make everyone take their shoes off when they enter my house.


Whatever the reasons at this point in my life I've settled down to a nice, comfortable routine. I am retired but work part time just enough to engage my brain from atrophying and to meet more interesting people than I would meet in a Wal-Mart checkout line.


Oh, one other reason that maybe I'm not the Toast of Town is my voice. I'm not effeminate nor do I talk with a "gay" accent (all you straight people know what I'm talking about, gay people don't.) But my voice is not a deep, melodious voice. It is more of the Henry Aldrich variety with a Philadelphia accent. What is a Philadelphia accent? One example is that I pronounce water as "wudder." I have a nasal twang. What can I say? Coincidentally my one brother also has the same nasal twang and sometimes even his own wife will mistake me for her own husband when I call on the phone. However, my other brother has the expected deep, baritone tone of a mature, heterosexual male. I, on the other hand, am not to be taken seriously once I open my mouth.


I still remember the advice I was given by a couple of my Army buddies when I was 18 years old stationed at Ft. Devens, Massachusetts. It was a Friday night and they guys were going to take "the kid" (that would be me) out to the Little Club (or some name like that) in Ayer, Massachusetts. They said they would take me with them under one condition that I would keep my mouth shut. I did that night but I haven't ever since.


So, to sum up why I write a blog:


I like to write and I like to meet like minded people. It makes me feel good. It is a harmless past time and it doesn't cost me anything but time. I don't need anyone's approval (although sometimes some friends and readers of my blog attempt to control what I write but I pay them no mind.) I've been told that I shouldn't have music on my blog (I like the music, it stays.) I've also been told that I should not criticize Republicans on my blog (I will continue to do so when appropriate and I'm in the mood to vent.) I've also been told that I write too much about myself and should focus more on general topics (what is that criticism all about anyway? That's the whole point of my blog, ME.)


So I soldier on writing my blog, mostly every day. I do not worry about subject matter or what to write about. There is always something to write about. The backlog of topics in my head is endless. I have as many topics to write about as there are grains of sand on the beach or stars in the skies.


I am always seeking to improve my writing style and make my topics of interest. And of course, I always try to have humor and good will in all my blog postings.


I will continue to write until I am no longer able to write or the Powers That Be start to charge for maintaining a blog. If that happens, then I go back to counted cross stitch.