Hate Mail, Volume 1

You guys may not believe this, but there are a few people out there who detest the things that I write on this blog. There are times when my words cause them to become legitimately angry. I don’t understand it (okay, maybe I do), but I do find it to be quite entertaining when one of these people finally works up the nerve to pull the pin on a pissed-off thought grenade, and throw it my way through the internet. I mean, sure, there are a few comments that people have thrown my way that have really gotten under my skin / hurt my feelings, but the majority don’t. Then, there are some comments that are so outrageous that all I can do is laugh, and share them with the world. Comments like these are very rare, but they always tend to satisfy.

This particular post will be dissecting one of those.

Like I said, I don’t receive messages like this very often, so when I do, I have this deep desire to laugh at the person who sent me the message, and share their words with the entire world, and since I can’t realistically do that, I’m going to do the next best thing, which is to post those words here, where they will hopefully live forever.

In infamy.

You jerk.

Being a gentlemen, I won’t be divulging this precious person’s identity to the world. It’s not that I’m better than that. It’s that I just don’t feel like it right now. This sentiment may or may not last until the end of this post.

I hope you won’t mind some personal commentary dispersed throughout. After all, this is my blog.

So, without further ado…

So I just read your blog for the first time in months and immediately kicked myself for doing so. defriended you a few months ago… And I’m Sorry. I just didn’t want to be angry every time I got on Facebook.

Fair enough. Always be kind to yourself.

But I just want you to know that the asshats that’s you’re so obviously hateful towards, the really ignorant, vanilla, Bible believing, church going, regular-ole-faithful Christians who smile at church and pray about everything… Well, some of us really care about you. And we care about the suffering. And the marginalized. And the lost. And the disillusioned.

How noble and thoughtful of you to care about me, and the suffering, and the marginalized, and the lost, and the disillusioned. Too bad you’re lying about most of that. I do understand though. If you dress this message up right from the get-go with some of this pseudo-concern for me personally and society at large, you think that what’s to come will be much more palatable. It won’t be. I do understand, though.

I get it. You see yourself as a kind, caring person. Good for you.

Also, to be fair, only someone whose head is buried decades-deep in the tumultuous sands of evangelical fundamentalism would read the essays that I post on this blog and call my disillusionment with the church and many of its constituents “obvious hatred.”

And some of us truly believe the so called ‘bull shit’ of the Bible and are struggling to live out this high calling in this imperfect world. It is possible to be grounded in scripture and to also love people.

I don’t remember having ever used the word “bull shit” when referring to the Bible, but if I did, I probably had a good-to-decent reason for doing so. Also, in fairness, I would love for someone to link me to where I said it, since this person used quotations to imply that I definitely said such a thing. It could have happened. I just don’t remember.

Also, coming from someone who sincerely finds joy in the fact that God chooses some for Heaven (of course you’re one of the chosen), and chooses others for Hell (it me) before they’re even born, and even goes so far as to call this monstrous idea ‘grace’, your ‘grounded in scripture’ doesn’t mean very much. I definitely wouldn’t hold it up next to what most normal people would call love and expect to find many / any similarities.

To hate the performance driven worship services but to really mean it when you get tears in your eyes singing cling to the crucified.

Precious.

To earnestly long to fix every hurt in the world, to feed every hungry mouth, to adopt every orphaned child, to minister to every broken marriage… But to also be so damn broken yourself that your just happy you made it to the pew this morning.

More noble words from a heart that obviously bleeds for the hurting. You know, as long as ‘the hurting’ isn’t blaming ‘the church’ or any of its constituents for any of that hurt.

Also, if you were honestly and earnestly longing to adopt every orphaned child, you would probably make it a point to actually do so instead of making a new baby the old-fashioned way with your spouse every year and a half for the past decade.

Ouch, right?

Also, I love a well-placed curse word, and this one does not disappoint. I felt the raw emotion and energy down deep in my bones. Or something. Congrats on being broken like everyone else, I guess.

So far, so good, right? Sure.

Also, *you’re.

Life doesn’t come in neat little boxes, Jason. And neither do people. And I’m really tired of being put in one.

Now, this I can appreciate. Taking this whole thing to the next level by invoking my first name. Like you were just toying with me before, but now you mean business. You’re finally being serious with me. Let’s be honest here, though. Nothing comes in neat little boxes except for high-quality cupcakes and crayons. If a person ever shows up in one, you can bet that there was a serial killer involved.

Also, and I think that this is important: No one is putting anyone in a box that they weren’t already cognizant of to begin with. This isn’t someone trying to put Baby in the corner. If you’re in a box, you know that you’re in a box, and you don’t get to blame me or anybody else for putting you there. Also, I would be tired as well, you two-faced hypocrite.

Okay, this might be my favorite part of the entire message:

I wish no one read your blog. But they do. So my prayer for you (through gritted teeth) is that you will stop loving the attention that your getting for being a mouthing off shock jock.

I hear you.

The funny part about this is that no one really reads my blog. I mean, sometimes if I share a post literally everywhere possible (like I’m going to share this one), 75–100 people will read it over a 2 day period, but that’s hardly anything to write home about. However, one thing is true. I do love me some attention at times, but to think that you believe that this blog supplies enough attention for me to get my attention-whoring rocks off is actually a little bit flattering.

Also, nothing says pious douchebaggery like someone telling you that they’re praying for you “through gritted teeth.”

Thanks?

And that you’ll be convicted about the people you’ve hurt and the Gospel that you’ve lied about.

If I’ve hurt anything, it’s feelings. Your feelings. Your. Feelings.

Your.

Feelings.

If I’ve lied about anything, it’s feelings. My feelings. My. Feelings.

My.

Feelings.

Also, you don’t get to capitalize ‘gospel’ like there’s some formal and official version of it. You just don’t.

God has offered you a feast of truth and grace in his word, my friend. And you have traded it for garbage. Lie to yourself all you want to. But God knows you have to go to bed feeling empty.

Ah, yes. Truth and grace. The other, other, other white meat.

It is right about here when I realized that this particular message was, in fact, fairly subjective, because I could imagine any number of people from all walks of life telling me that I’ve traded in ‘truth and grace’ for ‘garbage’.

Muslim. Mormon. Republican. Democrat. Pastor. Preacher. Deacon. Landscaper. School teacher. Nazi. White supremacist. Dog. Cat.

Everyone has a little bit of ‘truth’ that they cling to, along with a little bit of ‘grace’ that they divvy out when they feel the need. However, no matter how it may manifest itself, this ‘truth and grace’ will almost never show up the same way twice.

Also, there’s that age-old adage that you must hate yourself and live in a constant state of inner-turmoil if you don’t believe my version of the truth. This is a fairly universal phenomenon as well.

Also, MY FRIEND.

I’m truly sorry if this comes across as hostile. I don’t mean for it to be really. But obviously I am angry and a sinner and I need to repent of my frustrations as much as you do. I just needed to say it.

This is a classic fundamentalist tactic where someone projects their personal convictions onto me as if they belong to me as well. Get real, person. Don’t try to make me feel bad for something that you feel bad about just because you think your feeling bad about said thing is some high spiritual calling. Again, get real. You’re not sorry, and I’m not your huckleberry. Get off my porch with that shit.

I’m sure you can understand.

This is called being mean. This may appear to be a simple 5-word sentence, but it is actually a deeply layered insult masquerading as empathy. I know that you know this, but I just wanted to point it out.

As someone who has followed your journey, I have been deeply invested in your spiritual struggle. And [my wife]’s. But I cut ties and I wanted to let you know why.

I’m not an idiot. I know why you cut ties. I remember the day you did it. I had just declared myself an agnostic, and was enjoying a beautiful Spring morning for the first time in years, and I posted a picture of some spectacular nature scene, along with a secular quote about how beautiful it was, and you posted an out-of-context bible verse on it, and the next day, you weren’t my Facebook friend anymore. But hey, let’s be real. You publicly disputed almost everything that I posted for an entire year. ALMOST EVERYTHING FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR.The only thing that I can remember posting that you didn’t argue with me about was something that I wrote in a moment of weakness about the doctrine of Total Depravity, when I was (once again, in a moment of weakness) dabbling in the massive-pile-of-shit theology that is Calvinism. I quickly shook it off, but I know it made you extremely proud if only for a moment. You almost saved me. Almost.

I won’t find anything original in your blog that I can’t find on any left wing, liberal, moralistic therapeutic deistic blog.

Okay. I would not know. Could you use those words in another sentence?

And at least I can say maybe they haven’t been hit with the truth of the Gospel. It just seems easier that way.

‘Hit with the truth of the Gospel’

Sounds violent.

HAVE SOME TRUTH OF THE GOSPEL, SINNER!

Let me be honest here when I tell you that the thought of you agonizing over my poor state of spiritual affairs almost seems sort of sweet, but knowing you better than that, I can see that this is just another cleverly worded barb sent my way, now that you’ve exhausted all efforts to bring me to a proper saving knowledge of the lort Jesus Christ.

I have rejected your free gift, and now I shall pay. Right? Hell, if you don’t get me, God will, right?

Besides, doesn’t your religion state pretty implicitly that God chooses me, and not the other way around? Before the dawn of time? Predetermined? Predestined? Divinely chosen? It’s not the other way around, is it? C’mon, now. Don’t be a hypocrite.

Peace. ✌️🏻️ That stupid, naive, church pew Christian.

Again, I have no recollection of being such a dick about this.

Hope you find what you’re looking for.

Okay. No, you don’t. But okay.

Well, that’s the end.

This was sort of fun. I don’t know about you but I feel a lot better now than I did when I started writing this post.

In conclusion, I would like to present this conveniently-ordered list of weird and unnecessarily long words that pertain to some specific and probably very weird and unnecessary spiritual practice or belief:

Sacerdotalism.
Hamartiology.
Ubiquitarianism.
Tartarology.
Umbilicanimism.
Panegyricon.
Christolatry.
Aggiornamento.
Lecanomancy.
Labarum.
Immanentism.
Ecclesiography.

Love always,

Me.