I like complaining, whinging and ranting.

My newest whinge is about Sundays.

I play the pipe organ on Sunday morning at not one but two churches. I am not Anglican any more, but agnostic - I consider this a job which I do for money. Nevertheless, I feel like this is a good deed one may view as Christian in general: I play hymns and recessionals for the glory of God, as it were. From 8am to 11:30 I do my bit for God (who I don't believe in, but I do my bit all the same). And according to the parishioners I do it well.

So. After the two services and morning teas and piano lessons at the second church hall, I'm free for the rest of Sunday - free from ideology and prayer and oh God we're not fit to eat at your table but hey you're a nice guy so you'll let us anyway. Or so I hope I am free.

Because things tend to happen. Not so long ago I had been at a party on Saturday night and in my rush on Sunday morning had put that party top back on for a bit more mileage. Unfortunately, this was not to the liking of a random elderly Christian (Catholic!) woman who decided to accost me - get this - not at church but on the station as I was public-transporting my way home. Just when I thought I was free of it all, she insists that my top is immodest and one of the seven deadly sins, moreover it tempts men into sinning. She went for ages, but that was her point in a nutshell. I'll post the original blog entry below for those who are interested.

Last Sunday I was wearing my don't-talk-to-me-iPod earphones whilst wasting time browsing books at a second hand book shop before jumping on a ferry. I was still feeling the tiniest bit seedy (I can't even drink white rum now without feeling crap the next morning, boohoo). Whilst going through books someone proffered a pamphlet to me, and I took it, still looking at the books. I may have said thanks. In any case she didn't leave, rather stood very close as if she would like to say something. With warning bells going off in my head, I play polite and take out my earphone, eventually having to stop the music entirely to bring myself back to the real world and give her the attention she obviously wanted.

My oath, the things this woman said. I tried my best to deter her. I was so not in the mood to be lectured. "Sorry, I've already been to two church services today, I think I've heard enough sermons!"

"Do you speak in tongues?"

"Er... no."

Her argument was basically if you don't receive the true gift of the Holy Spirit by being completely immersed in water through baptism and don't talk in tongues then you're an invalid Christian even though you may go to church. Holeh gaspeh! She was also orgasmic about the Bible, and how it was the true word of God. I had to restrain myself from explaining to her that God did not write the Bible - people did; mortal people for that matter. She talked for ages. I pretty much remained silent apart from the occasional 'ok' and 'right...' whenever she significantly paused with a hopeful smile.

"We are now located in the Shire. Do you want to know more? Please look at our website on the sheet."

"... Right."

"Well, I'll leave you to it, then."

She could have just done that in the first place and saved herself a lot of time and effort. I was so tense, frustrated and stressed by the end of it because of this woman talking at me about things I was either not interested in or didn't agree with in the first place, and finding myself unable to ask her to go away. I was so angry that I just screwed up the propaganda pamphlet - without even bothering with my normal ritual of reading it and laughing - and used it as a stress ball as I walked to the ferry.

Honestly, the whole deal just makes me so aggravated. You'd think people would realise shoving their religion in other people's faces does nothing but antagonise them and further turn them away from the very goal these people are hoping for in the first place - to convert. I don't understand how anybody could be willing and enthusiastic to sign up for that particular denomination of Christianity (whatever it was...) after being told how they were going to burn in Hell should they not be gifted with the Holy Spirit like Jesus was and garble nonsense as proof (for that matter, Jesus never talked in tongues when he was baptised...).

In fact, I was seriously considering just leaping off the fence I'm sitting on the moment and becoming a hardcore atheist, that's how much I was disgusted with Christianity right then.

And how come it always happens to me me that's pestered? I don't walk around with a sign on my head: "WILLING LISTENER". I am at the end of my tether with this and it's only happened once. I swear the next time one of these people try to strike up a one-sided conversation I'm really tempted to pretend I have Tourette Syndrome and scream, "THERE IS NO GOD! Oh, I'm so sorry - it may be best if you just leave, JESUS FUCKER!" and see if it works. I'd have to be really, really annoyed, though.

~~~~~

Picture if you will, an overcast, blustery and wet day. It is Sunday noon. Your guts have being playing havoc with you during work in the morning, nevertheless you stuff yourself with Vietnamese rice paper rolls at work when they're offered. They're free, after all. You should be more tired - you got the bare minimum of sleep the night before (group drinking, partying and eating pizza before the wild goose chase at Sutherland to find a taxi driver willing to drive all the way to out to our home village taking up most of the early hours of Sunday morning). But you're not. You're feeling ok as you gather your three bags and umbrella and head to the station.

Now, imagine yourself sitting down on a station seat. You've bought a ticket, you've done everything the morning asks of you, you're all set to get back to Kogarah and grab some well-needed internet access and catch up with people online. You're relaxing on the seat, feeling your insides grudgingly settling down slowly and turn its attention to the new food.

You set your bags down, take some time to organise where everything is, then take out your iPod. An elderly woman sits down next to you just as the first chords of Love Story start playing and Katherine McPhee insists her tale of getting with a guy is just another typical love story. You're just well and truly relaxing as the real wait begins for the train when suddenly and incredibly randomly the woman leans towards you, an earnest look on her face and making eye contact.

Surprised, you whip out your right earphone from your ear so to even hear what on earth she's saying to you.

The first couple of words that become audible?

"... wearing a low cut dress-"

What?!

"... goes against God's teachings-"

Oh, God... literally...

"... is a sin... against the Catholic church..."

Blah, blah, blah...

(Pardon the imminent shift of second-to-first-person)

In her hand is a crumpled greying slip of paper. One one side I see is the seven sins. On the other side is the opposites; the seven (or so) virtues. One of them, as she points to it, I see is Modesty. She points to it. Pretty self explanatory, I suppose. One must be a modest girl and do good things for God and never even think of sinning.

Why me? I've just been in two churches for the entire morning working my butt off. In a few more hours, I'll be back in one for the night service. And I'm the one that gets stuck with the rabid Christian once out of the church (I have to deal with them inside and out, it seems). Anyway, I'm not rude enough to stick the earphone back in. I listen with growing horror at what she's trying to convince me.

Turns out my bare neck - complete with a little more than a hint of my cleavage, I'll admit, but hardly immoral - is immodest and bound to tempt the opposite sex to sin themselves in a horrible and sinful act of non-Chastity. Well. Whoopsie me. Since Chastity is similarly on the list of God's top 10, as she next points out, I'd not only be sending myself to hell but any guy who fell for it.

Resist the temptation to ask whether she's a virgin. Resist. You can do it, Pip. Oh, and please, please resist the urge to inform her you she's too late by roughly nine months, ignore the coincidence while I'm at it, and the fact you were out bumping and grinding with a guy in a night club last night.

I never knew anyone had so little control over themselves that even the sight of bare flesh could drive them to not be chaste with a complete stranger. I had no idea all the males on Marrickville station were aroused and about to leap on me.

</sarcasm>

I stare at her, still feeling taken aback at being kindly admonished like this. As she continues rattling on about how wearing things like my current top tempts males, I feel myself unable to simply say anything, which is probably a good and a bad thing. I try to not act so wide-eyed and mute. But nodding and saying yes would only encourage her. She looks encouraged anyway. Maybe it's the fact that I'm even listening to her.

"Are you of the Catholic faith?" she asks me.

No, I'm a neo-pagan. You know, the ones that do EEEVIILLL spells under the light of the waning moon and do their best to go against your own bigoted faith.

"I'm Agnostic." I say in a low voice, feeling my guts are actually still somewhat unsettled. Which means I'm not in a great mood to deal with this sort of thing as quickly as possible.

Her face goes totally blank, so much so it's like a cartoon character. "What's that?"

Resist the temptation to laugh, resist the temptation to look appalled... "It's like, a mix between Anglicanism and Atheism." I say, perhaps not that correct in my definition, however, I'm hardly willing to start talking about my beliefs to this woman. And hey, she probably doesn't even know what Atheism is considering how much she knew about the hybrid.

Nevertheless, she doesn't ask. Maybe it'd be embarrassing to have to get a second definition from me. Or maybe it's embarrassing for her to talk about other religions like this because as you know... Anglicanism is just not on par with its sister. Anglicanism is a denomination.

"God created the Catholic church."

Uh HUH. Oh yeah, He totally did. And you know what, He also wrote the Bible. No doubt about that. Don't worry, lady, we all know how much of an impact God had and has on us all. You know, like, with all the times you've heard Him speak from the heavens above. Well, me too. God's fantastic. The Catholic church is the best.

Damnit. Sarcasm does not help at all.

"The Catholic church owns all the wondrous sacraments, it's proof that the Catholic church is God's own true church."

Does this lady even know what a sacrament is?! *sigh*

"So you see, unless you're baptised into the Catholic church, you're not recognised by God."

Resist once again. I am not telling her I've already been baptised AND confirmed. Just not as a Catholic. In any case, I'd rather forget that myself sooner rather than later, or at least dismiss it to an earlier part of my life when I was actually a Christian.

"This morning we had a baptism, it was sooo beautiful." she says soon after, and the way she talks about it makes me wonder just what was beautiful to her, the child and the gorgeous gowns they normally put on them or the fact she'd seen someone entered into the 'one true' Church. I also have to clamp my mouth over asking her whether the child was even old enough to talk and make their own decision as to whether they wanted to be baptised. Knowing most Christian parents, probably not. They were probably still young enough to bawl when they came into contact with the water. Hooray, this young scrap of a person is now officially Christian. Beautiful indeed, that they're not old enough to say no.

"Have you been to the Catholic church in Marrickville?"

"Uh, no." Busy working at other lesser churches, sorry.

"Visit some time, have a talk to Father Tom, he's a lovely man, he'll answer all your questions about God and the church."

Warning bells really start flashing now. For starters, when in the conversation had I said anything about being interested in going? Secondly, she's inviting me to talk with a CATHOLIC PRIEST. Yeah, come sit on my lap and we'll 'talk', young lady. Then I'll go and have a 'talk' with my young strapping altar boy. Yeah. Nothing dodgy about me being a CATHOLIC PRIEST. I'm a LOVELY MAN. And thirdly, where did she get the idea that I was an ignorant heathen and don't know anything, let alone that I would want to ask questions and learn?

I may have missed some stuff that she said. In any case, at the end of this, I was prompted to say something with her enthusiastic "Ok?"

"Right."

"Good, good girl." she says, beaming. Most likely she's deludedly delighted at how easily she's managed to bring one stray sheep into the fold by convincing them of their sin - you're going to HELL if you don't get baptised right away by Father Tom - and then reassuring them they still can be saved. Her free hand comes out and pats me on the shoulder.

Don't. Touch. Me.

The session ends somewhat randomly, as randomly as it had begun. She turns away after a few more final words, I do the same and turn back on the music. I ignore her for the rest of the time yet watch out of my peripheral vision as she reads her magazine, gets up and walks around then comes back and sits again.

Eventually, when the train arrives, she is gone again.

Next time I'm getting the earlier train.

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Member of and (and others but they've either gone offline for a short time or have disbanded)




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