Sunday, 26 July 2015

Preach.

Let me transport you to another place. Imagine you're in Liverpool city centre (if you've never been, just imagine that you're in your own city centre, only add more pigeons and overflowing McDonald's bins, make the Primark bigger and add more women in rollers) and imagine it's a pretty nice day - which you've inadequately dressed for - and you're walking down the main street, in front of the aforementioned huge Primark; then a man stops to talk to you.

Bible Quote John 13:34

You didn't ask him to stop, you barely glanced at him - but your unwillingness to stop and listen offends him. Why don't you want to take his test about your religious faith? It angers him enough to shout after you in the street, rather aggressively. Sound bizarre? It does, doesn't it - but it literally happened to me last week. Now, I'm sure if you've ever met either myself or Katy, you'll know we didn't take it lightly - nor lying down, however that's really not the point here. As a gay woman, I'm not going to lie - preachers make me uncomfortable. I am all too aware that just on principle, most (although I hasten to add, not all) strongly religious people are against my sexuality. Middle aged (I'm being polite, there) men shouting after me in the street would make me uncomfortable anyway, but particularly when they're angry I don't support their religion and I'm with my girlfriend - it puts me in a position that, when all I'm doing is walking through town, I certainly don't want to be in.

Don't get me wrong - I am all for religion. Even as an atheist, I find it fascinating; RS was one of my favourite subjects in school - I would never convince somebody that what they believe in didn't exist, nor would I suggest that they shouldn't spread the word to other people; however, in the same way that I wouldn't force my lack of religion onto somebody else, I don't want somebody else's belief forced onto me - or at least not unless I go up and choose to have them tell it to me.

So this is a post asking you to be polite. Give me information about your religion, don't force your tests on me. Don't suggest I'm going to hell if I don't have time to stop to have you criticise me in the street - and certainly don't expect me to come back and listen to what you have to say if you've literally shouted after my girlfriend and I to the extent that we felt uncomfortable in our own home town.

What do you think about street preachers?

Sammy xo.

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