Dear Church Boy

The Homo Homophobe

                    

The amount of nakedness on this blog has become conspicuous. What can I say?

Not much, let’s move on. 

The Church Boy has two very conflicting tendencies. 1. He is institutionally reinforced to be a raging homophobe, and 2. He is constantly encouraged by the same institution to be incredibly affectionate with other men. And I don’t mean handshakes and high-fives, kids, I’m talking some deep eyebrow-raising bromances. Asian Church Boy, this is particularly true of you.

Have you watched the last 15 minutes of the third LOTR movie? You know, when the journey is finally over and Frodo and Sam share a longing look deep into each others’ eyes? Even though they are (and I’m assuming here) hetero Shire folk, something super gay was going down and we all knew it, and we all felt awkward watching it.

There are quite a few moments like this between Church Boys on any given Sunday morning, which of course increases exponentially at the occasional weekend retreat. Not so much the longing looks as it is the impromptu wrestling matches, calling each other “sexy beast”, and gratuitous amounts of grabbing/caressing/throwing small objects at each others’ asses, nipples, and man parts further south. All questionable happenings that succeed in making most observers feel rather awkward. 

Fyi, boys: Slapping is still touching. Just because it looks violent or athletic doesn’t make it less homo.

Also, saying “no homo” after all things homo, really? Wait, stop, don’t tell me, is that Ted Haggard’s favorite phrase after crazy gay sex? Figures. 

What is the crime here? There is absolutely nothing wrong with being physically/verbally affectionate with your boys. You are sexually repressed and it leaks out all sorts of different ways, I get it. But look, if you are going to be a complete homophobe on the pulpit or in a prayer meeting, you should at least make it moderately convincing by being consistent. 

Stop confusing us by being comfortable with homoerotic behavior one second, then disgusted by it the next. 

If you insist on being a homophobe, stop being such a big homo.

(But really, dear Church Boy, please grow up, evolve, stop being such an ignorant little man child and be free to have your bromances, and jeez, let the gays have theirs too.)

The Bro Code

          

The church appears to be rather conducive to a certain predatory shamelessness. That is, the Church Boy does not heed or adhere to the “Bro Code”.

There are no rules or honor in his game.

I remember listening to a sermon about relationships, where the pastor described the story of how he met his wife. Basically, in college, the girl that was to be his wife had just broken up with his best friend. He had secretly been in love with her so, the very same day, he jumped at the opportunity to ask her out. Within a year, they were married, went off to some third world country and translated bibles into a rainforesty language.

I wasn’t sure what he was hoping to accomplish by telling us that story, but he succeeded in making himself look like a complete douche bag.

If that Sunday were my only exposure to Christianity, I’d probably assume being a Christian meant that you were divinely sanctioned to be a total dick to your friends.

I mean, in what world is it okay to ask your best friend’s girl out the very day he breaks up with her?

In the church world, apparently, where if she’s “The One”, you can step on everybody else to get to her. 

In college, this Church Boy asked me out three months after I stopped seeing his younger brother. And by brother I mean his own flesh and blood.

He said it was okay because God told him that this was right, that I was “The One”.

First of all, this isn’t The Matrix, stop calling me “The One”, you charismatic geek. I’m not The One… I’m just One Option. And I mean that in general, stop looking for The One as if she or he is predetermined for you. That’s too much hype for any human being that doesn’t also happen to make up a third of the Trinity. 

Second of all, you don’t holler at your bro’s girl (or ex-girl). Putting a spiritual twist to your chase doesn’t make people less human. When you and The One are in that boring phase of your relationship, you know, when she’s finally your girlfriend and you don’t have to pretend to like prayer meetings and such… you’re going to need your Bros to play endless hours of WoW with. Don’t ostracize them by being a complete asshole.

Cmon, Bro, there’s a code… go read your handbook.

The Tree Chopper

                                 

The most resilient of all Church Boys, his philosophy of romance in the real world may result in a restraining order.

He believes that regardless of who you are and how many times she rejects you, if you keep at it (if you keep ‘chopping’) she will fall.

If he employs the tree chopping philosophy, he is most likely a pastor or worse yet, an aspiring pastor trying to foresee a heartwarming sermon illustration about perseverance.

He will force his way into a friendship (often appealing to your Christian Girl sensibilities), and will be relentless from the get go in his efforts to define the relationship. He will invest in you and use it as leverage to ever so slowly change that definition.

I assume most women “fall” because they just get damn tired.

It reminds me of getting chased as a kid, you know, the kind of chasing that is fun and playful at the beginning… and then it crosses some invisible boundary and you start to get scared because it has been going on for a little longer than you had anticipated. Also, you look back and he is running like a robot and has a weirdly vacant expression.

Little Kid Me would typically stop abruptly and clothesline him. The same principle should be applied here.

“No” means “No”, Church Boy, stop being a creep.

Closeted Gay Church Boy

         

Dear Closeted Gay Church Boy,

Sweetie, we all know that you are gay. You sing in the worship band without an instrument so as to be free to engage a Celine Dion flourish with one hand, whilst holding the mic with your other hand as if it were a dainty cup of tea. 

You smell good, you have product in your hair. Also, you are prettier than me.

Why are you pursuing me? Is it because I’m just THAT gender blurringly attractive or are you in some sort of top secret “pray the gay away” ministry and I’m your homework assignment?

Regardless, getting hit on by you makes me question my own sexuality. It’s already repressed, it does not need to be confused.

Be honest, be free, be at WeHo this Friday night.

The Charismatic Attack

                                 

Also known as the “Charismatic Chaos”.

I’ve never read the book, but I always assumed by the title that MacArthur was writing about the boys in the charismatic movement. I mean, that is the kind of chaos I have experienced with them charismatics. And yes, I meant to limit that to males only, because that’s how we roll. Am I right, Johnny Mac?

The issue with the Charismatic Boy pickup line is that he equates the voice of God with the thunder down under. I know, it is just so difficult to discern the difference, I get it. But here’s a helpful rule of thumb: It is NEVER okay to use the God card to try to pick up a girl.

Maybe God can speak to you about who you should marry. But don’t employ it as rhetoric. It’s pathetic.

This is what is egregiously problematic about the God card: If God were the one that called the boy to ask a girl out, the implication is that she’s not just rejecting the gawky long-haired praise flag wielding Charismatic Boy, she is rejecting the Author of Life, God Himself.

Talk about a crisis of faith.

Sure, if he happens to be the boy she is actually interested in, it can add to the appeal. It brings a divinely epic quality to the chase. I get it. But unless God sets fire to a damn bush and speaks audibly to you, stop dropping God’s name in vain to get a date.

The Worship Leader

                              

Perhaps the most heinous of all species of Church Boys is the Worship Leader. They may take the title of “most heinous” because I find the disparity between their perceived importance and their actual importance quite striking.

Of course you have your range of subspecies: The Emo-Spiritual Worship Leader, The Stud Worship Leader, The Closeted Gay Worship Leader, The Just Barely Mediocre Worship Leader, The “Kinda Good But Failed At Making It In The Secular Scene” Worship Leader…

Regardless of type, there is one lowest common denominator: 1. Girls dig that shit.

Okay, there are two: 2. They are the biggest douche bags you will ever meet.

Somehow, knowing how to sing mediocre songs written by some generic McPlain wrap Australian makes you a spiritual bad ass.

It’s almost like when people care about what Lady Gaga has to say about political issues. You know, because she wears weird outfits and stuff… so she must be qualified to comment on the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy. (Btw, having Lady Gaga on your side doesn’t help your case, gays, why do you not get this.)

Wait, what was I talking about? Oh right, db Worship Leaders.

For some reason, being able to perform a weekly set list of repetitive whiny unexceptional songs covers a multitude of sins.

Every pastor wants to be a Worship Leader. Why? Because Worship Leaders get all the glory and spiritual validation without ever having to exercise their intelligence or integrity. Because all they have to do is say words like “forever” and “love” and “arms” in song form and girls decide that, yes, he is truly a godly man, I must have his tiny godly babies.

Worship leaders are like reality TV stars, they’re regular people with a disproportionate sense of self because people are looking at them. They’re rock stars without the fame or talent… or money (all things that redeem rock star behavior).

Also, when they sing or pray, they say the word “God” with a weird accent. A strange combination of British/Australian. Like “Goad” or “Gohd”. This, to me, is their worst offense. Every time I hear it, I whisper under my breath, “Gohd, smite him!” Someone must be punished for it.

But ultimately, it’s the disparity that kills me. So many of them are spiritually/emotionally/socially immature, but just because they can sing, they’re placed on this ridiculous pedestal. UGHKLDJFLSJFRETARDED.

In sum: Dear Church Boy, we’re onto you.