So, I was thinking perhaps I should reveal a bit more about the journalistic enigma that is Charlie Foxfield. Recently, I went to small-town Illinois over the weekend with my boyfriend and wound up attending Sunday school and the following service at a Baptist church with some of his childhood friends.

A little background: I wasn’t raised in a church. In fact, I’ve gone to church twice. Once was for a funeral. For the most part, my experience with religion has been purely academic with the exception of some basic Unitarian beliefs my parents instilled in me as a kid. Church is kind of novel and whimsical to me because it’s so amazingly different from anything I’ve ever experienced before.

So I’m in this Sunday school with my boyfriend. For the record, I’m 24, straight and in the middle of a pending divorce. I’m a big supporter of LGBTQ rights, and my moral compass doesn’t always point due north, especially when held against Baptist criteria.

So when they lit into AT&T and McDonalds, and were debating whether or not to do business with those companies because they support a “homosexual agenda” it hit a nerve with me. I heard lots of phrases that make me inwardly cringe like, “Hate the sin and not the sinner.” There was a rather amusing discussion over whether or not it was Christian to take on Playboy as a client if you’re an insurance adjustor. The teacher was leaning toward yes, and pointed out that it’d be a great opportunity to witness to them. I remained silent and waited to spontaneously combust.

The most bizarre part to me was the assumption that since I was there, I must be just like them. No questions asked. In a way, the acceptance was welcome because questioning would’ve led to some really awkward answers and I didn’t want them to spend the whole hour trying to save my soul or whatnot. But at the same time I felt absolutely traitorous.

During service, my brain kept turning to bits and pieces of different Eddie Izzard skits and it was all I could do to keep from giggling at the parallels. I kept waiting for God to smite me, or something. Afterward, we jumped in the car to leave, blasted some completely unholy heavy metal and I felt a bit more at peace.

Later that evening we all got into a rather lively, beer-induced debate about the whole thing. I stuck to my personal mantra - I believe in being a good person. Period. End of story. It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around faulting good people for so many different things and I can’t completely process how so many people can preach about love and acceptance, but what they really mean is to love and accept others who think like them. 

But I think it’s easy for us all to fall into that habit, even those with the most liberal of agendas. I caught myself being just as judgmental as they were in some ways, and then really hoped for some sort of smiting because the last thing I want to do is fall into the same frame of mind as the opposition, only accepting those who think like me. So I willed myself into listening even though I don’t personally believe in it, and reminded myself that differing opinions can still be heard. I hope that regardless of all the dogma and the damnation we can all attempt to practice what we preach.