Punishment, Cardinal Sins #abuse #pedophile #catholicchurch

As you would have read recently, my body copped some punishment from paving. You may also realize by now that I am a sunshine boy and though I appreciate the rain, it gives me a trembling of what is to come.  It gives me a damp shivers that cut deep to my heart and soul.

The last couple of days have rained continually and my sadness builds with every drop that falls. To this day, I am not a lover of sodden clothes.  Along with the sodden clothes, and the punishment that this paving has given my body over the last few days, my mind wanders back to a time where I know I should have been able to enjoy simply being me, without consequence, without fear. 

St Stephens Brisbane (en.wikipedia.org)

My mind wanders to when this young surfer boy with  blue eyes, sun bleached, blonde hair, and brown as a berry skin, was learning to accept his own sexuality and simply being me.  A young Catholic boy attending Catholic schools, attending Catholic rituals and trusting that confession was the correct, and God expected, thing to do.  So, along to the parish priest I would go, expecting forgiveness in readiness for the next sins, and so forth, as all cheeky good boys would do. The priest of the time would accept my confession and deliver my penance.  That penance was to be washing his car.  He had a penchant for shiny chromed wheels.  He would hold the hose pointing and drenching the sinner with water as he inspected his passion.  So not to go home to my parents with sodden clothes they would need to be dried in the dryer while he satisfied another penchant and served his penance.  The sins that I was developing needed to be curbed after all and who better than a man of the cloth to discourage my sins.  Each sin he would proclaim in his words 'punishment time' and my body would learn the wrath of God in a very 'hard' way.  For my initial sin, of admitting who I was, it was recommended that I speak solely to him, on a regular and confidential basis.  Of which this dumb, little surfer boy accepted.  How else without the acceptance of God was I going to exist in this world.

This 'punishment time' went for what seems to have been a life time.  My saviour for my sins was to be going away with his parents for his father to be installed as Governor of a service organization. His advice was not to confess to his replacement but, to wait till his return, for what might be a bulk confession, and forgiveness, in one go.  In his absence there was to be quite a few who would hold back their confessions until his return.  Over the next few weeks a few of us discovered that our sins were familiar and carried the same penalties. Only then did we realize that, maybe they were not the will of God, but man made. Together, with discussion, we decided to meet with the Bishop to get his view on our 'acts of confession'.  He agreed that these were not proper.  He would deal with it.  'Priests were very hard to get,' he said so he would discourage him from his penchant for shiny chrome wheels.

Back then, none of us had any idea of compensation. Not one of us wanted nor needed it. We all came from fairly influential parents so what's money.   All we needed was recognition and comfort for what we appeared to be suffering together.  Suffering from being ourselves. To this day I might add none of us have been comforted by any member of the clergy. On his return from his fathers installation, my confessor confronted me and the others that we had ruined his life.  That we would have embarrassed him to his Superintendent of Police father and Governor of this charity service organization.

His ruination existed for approximately 3 days until he was moved to the chaplain for elderly Catholic care-giving ladies.  Later to be appointed parish priest of a new parish which consisted of a primary school and a boys boarding college.  I guess a buffet of treats awaited for his ruination after all.

About two weeks ago now that same priest was buried with fanfare from the city cathedral, his parish church and a family ceremony.  I would assume that his fanfare was not, as one of the guys in my group's, whose fanfare was from the hands of 3 predators, male prostitution, drugs and AIDS. Yes, I am one of the lucky ones, who accepted my life choices, never went to confession again, believed that my God is a God of love and that these inhumane humans will one day meet a greater penance giver, in their after life.

Yes, this rain brings sadness to me. Yes, my thoughts are not nice of Cardinals, who still have the right to offer nothing, but a lousy bit of money (yes money not compassion) for those who were not as lucky as me.  Yes, my thoughts are angry as to why a man who served his church as a lay music minister in Chicago for 16 years was dismissed because he proposed to his boyfriend.  Yes, my sadness is existent because my church was built on love - not on money, my church was built on equality - not on sexuality.  Yet my church is governed by power, greed, and bigotry.  These cardinals dress in frocks that our worst dressed drag queens would never wear on a Friday or Saturday night. These men need learn that the attendance at the very church, of which they govern, is falling below their hem line rather than just accepting that we all have failings. We all have sin, and together as one, we may build a faith that is built on love and respect for each, and every, human being.  Only then will the flocks come back to the men in frocks.

So my prayer is: 
Please God may the sunshine come out tomorrow, 
May the downpour cleanse and refresh us, 
May it give us hope for a better future, a future that is fueled by love not division.   
May it give us a freedom to be who we are. 
A freedom for the churches to take responsibility for their actions of neglect.  
A freedom to say sorry for the sins of the past and never to repeat.  
And may my prayer give Freedom to forgive and accept those sins of the past. 
Amen. 

Please keep up the emails. Until next time take care, and remember, we are in this together and the sun will come out tomorrow.

Cheers!

Bitchescoz

 Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

Tomorrow - Annie (Movie)

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