Let's be a Church

The "opera singer" who caterwauls all over the place, but she's too nice and actually musically gifted to say anything to about it.

I'm your unmarried, 2nd cousin once removed, bachelor church pianist who was bludgeoned to death at the dry cleaners.

I'm the minister's daughter wearing a heavy wool coat in August to cover my baby bump.

I'm 1970s church architecture. I am replete with various shades of plum, sienna, burnt umber and dark yellow. There is a dreadful "abstract" crucifixion mounted on my stone render interior wall. It looks like something made out of barbed wire.

I'm the empty seats of every church in the developed world outside the US.

I'm the dead guy hanging on the wall.

as long as you are mostly nude and sexy, r6.

I’m the hats.

[quote] I'm the old woman who refuses to sing contemporary songs.

I'm the amazement that anyone like contemporary church music.

I'm Father Jorge, recently arrived from Costa Rica and ready to party!

I'm the 80 rank Ruffatti pipe organ (with en chamade) sitting silent because I've been replaced with a 'Praise Band." I will continue to deteriorate from lack of use, until I'm unplayable.

I'm the 80 rank Ruffatti pipe organ (with en chamade) sitting silent because I've been replaced with a 'Praise Band." I will continue to deteriorate from lack of use, until I'm unplayable.

You were just here.

I'm the swooning congregation, filled with the holy ghost.

I'm the congregation who speaks in tongues.

Damn you R15. You beat me to it.

I’m the out-of-town queen with BF in tow, invited to the wedding rehearsal.

I will have sloppy sex in the basement under the pulpit as a fuck you to the hater-church folk.

I'm necrosis unless it's a dry bite.

[quote] I’m the out-of-town queen with BF in tow, invited to the wedding rehearsal.

I'm R17's husband making sure I sit next to the gay couple at Golden Corral for the rehearsal dinner. I'll keep making nervous small talk about the new Walmart hoping it will lead to a blow job. It won't.

I'm the polite, light laughter from the congregation when the pastor cracks a joke at the start of his sermon.

I'm the preacher yelling about the HOLY GHOST POWER!

I'm single women praying for a man, their kids, and gay dudes who pray the love of dick out of their hearts.

I make up the entire congregation.

I'm the queeny choir director. Everyone knows I'm as gay as the day is long, but doesn't dare make mention of it.

I'm the lurid sexual fantasies playing out in the minds of the various bored congregationists as they stare hungrily at whichever clerical representative is iginiting their inconvenient lust.

I'm the former gay, happily deliver't from homosexuality. I don't like mens no more. I [italic]WILL[/italic] love a women.

This is always makes me laugh because it reminds me of my Catholic church growing up, and every bit of it is dead-on.

I am the picnic we have on the church grounds after service. Millie is going to bring her famous Weineroni Casserole..

R22, at 3:50. "You go to Black churches; it's women, children, and gay dudes."

"You can't argue with what you see."

He's pretty much right. I dare say that many of White churches are no different. Straight men who do go to church attend with their wives. Single straight men usually don't go at all.

I'm the ringer in the church choir -paid to balance out the three old men with no voice or musicianship who otherwise make up the tenor section. I grit my teeth through rehearsals and despise every moment of the service. When I get a better-paying day job I will give the choir women heart attacks by coming out, quitting, and telling them how many of their husbands have propositioned me in the men's room.

I’m the altar boy who’s harboring a guilty secret

I'm the venomous snake being jostled and tossed around like a child's plaything awaiting the perfect moment.

I'm Beth. I never cut my hair and wear denim, ankle length skirts. I drive a 1994 Volvo station wagon, work at the library, and play the church piano on the weekends.

Chastity, the pretty young girl told me about her promiscuous weekends. The poor got pregnant and had an abortion. Feeling guilty about it all, I told her mom then killed myself.

Chastity ended up having three more abortions and got fat. No remorse.

I'm the rows and rows of empty seats.

I'm the ridiculous cadre of middle- to old-age 'Praise Dancers' who do an odd form of Prancercize, wave ribbons, and 'interpret' liturgy with a sign language all their own -- meaning, made up on the spot.

R34 we are the PRAISE TEAM and we all wear sandals and palazzo pants.

I'm the constant money begging and the guilt that goes with not giving a minimum of 10% of my income.

I'm the cum-dribble from the sinner dripped onto the floor of the confessional.

I'm the youth minister who seems to get closer to my flock as close in on 18. Hey, it's just grooming.

True Story: My youth minister made a pass on my the week after my 18th birthday. Even though I knew what I liked, he didn't fall into that category and I headed off to college shortly after. The dumb fuck kept sending cards to my parent's house apologizing. I found out about it when my folks got overly curious, opened one began a process that became a huge scandal in the church.

Upside: "Well, M&D, I was so traumatized by the whole thing. I just can't go to church right now". If you think that meant never again, you would be correct.

I am the priest who gets really up close and personal with the hugs after the Sunday service especially for guys with close cropped military haircuts between the ages 20-40 years old…..and stops just short of grabbing your crotch….watch those ‘Roman’ hands.. Father

I’m the tax-exempt status

I'm the SJWs who don't actually "believe" in "God" but think it's cool to keep the "social justice" tradition of Christianity alive. I mean Jesus was an oppressed Palestinian wasn't he. He would have been down with defunding the police!

I'm the last stop on the demythologizing road of mainline Protestantism and "progressive" Catholicism. I have taken all the mystery out of everything and am susceptible to whatever the next trend is in leftist politics. My congregations and parishes are dying as I make few converts among the young, except a few weird purple haired girls and gay guys. Cause everyone else has figured out I don't believe anything and can just go and join secular organizations which try to accomplish the same goals.

We're the judgmental church mothers, letting you know how sinful you've been dressing lately.

I'm the pews in a liberal church. Aside from a few old ladies, I'm empty since the younger people prefer those hip but cult like mega churchs. Who wants to sing traditional hymms and drink coffee out of Styrofoam cups when the church is few blocks over has a Starbucks and a hipster "pastor" who plays guitar??

I'm the homophobia. I never sleep.

I'm the stale cookies and red punch for the kids.

I'm Kathy Ann

[quote]pianist who was bludgeoned to death at the dry cleaners.

Well, at least they'll be able to get the blood out.

I'm the stale white bread cut into little pieces and the Welch's grape juice non-Catholics take for Communion.

I'm the gay MCC Church in a very small city in the South. Outside the one gay bar and one gay AA meeting I'm it girls!

Gay life : get drunk Monday thru Friday at the one gay bar, sober up at Saturday gay AA, get saved Sunday at the MCC. Rinse and repeat.

We had melba toast and CRAN•GRAPE®.

What denomination was that R50?

I’m the weird assed church who sings “Purple Rain” during Sunday worship service.

Well, you are there all day, r52.

[quote]What denomination was that [R50]?

Probably Uniterian.

I'm the billions of dollars in taxes they should all be paying!

[quote]R54: UNITERIAN

Oh, dear.

Not a Southern Baptist but I am an eldergay who was born and spent many formative years in the South and I sentimentally love this movie.

I’m the clump of fetal tissue that was either self aborted or the result of a miscarriage found in a urinal in the men’s bathroom in the fellowship hall (most likely from one of the preacher’s daughters ). — yes, as a gayling I found it and yes it was a Southern Baptist church

I'm still in mourning for Aimee Semple McPherson....

I'm the Mormon Elder spanking the missionary boys for insufficient door knocking. After the punishment, we Elders have a special method of consoling and encouraging our young men to double their efforts. First the stick, then the carrot, as they say.....

I'm the constant laments of poverty while owning millions of dollars in real estate in numbered shell corporations.

I’m the eldergay at Mass rolling his eyes at the setting of the Gloria that sounds like a Disney anthem.

I'm a Unitarian church, filled with lots of fun liberaly types.

We're nice but almost entirely white. When we have black musicians visit, we can't clap with any rhythm whatsoever.

[quote] rolling his eyes at the setting of the Gloria that sounds like a Disney anthem.

How’s that?

I'm the Quaker meeting.

I'm the guy who joins a Mormon church after meeting a nice girl. Her father is the pastor and will ask me to help with the book keeping since I'm a CPA. I'll find that 80% of the church's income goes directly to the family. I'll confront the pastor about this and he will give me a song and dance but I'll read through the bullshit. I'll leave the church and the pastor and his family will make my life hell for the next four years until they have to leave the country for "mission work" ahead of the government investigation into their taxes.

R66: You should have done to the pastor what the Elder did to the missionary up in R60, the stick and carrot approach. Unless the pastor was ugly....

I'm the gasoline you should spread around before you drop the match.

I'm the Nicene Creed being inaccurately lip synced by children and adults who don't want to be at Mass.

I’m an old school Presbyterian church. Our service is so cold you can ice skate down the aisle.

I'm the pretentiousness of "the Saints" who sit in gilded chairs on either side of the Pastor staring DOWN at the congregation during service. I can go down the line telling about the pasts of each "Saint" if you think you can bare to hear it.....

I'm:

"Oh, there's nothing you could have ever done that God wouldn't forgive you. Now, how much money you got, baby?"

I’m the occasional desecration.

I’m the satin lap scarf for those hussies whose hemlines are too high.

I feel sorry for all of you who grew up with religious parents and were forced to attend church, and how all of that must've fucked with your minds. My parents weren't religious, I never had to attend any church, religion has never played a role in my life and I am so fucking grateful for that.

My parents never went to church. We went with granny. Around middle school I figured what they did during that hour or two.

R75 passes judgment on others in exactly the same way that the worst religious hypocrites do.

r77 I feel sorry for gay people who had to grow up with religious horseshit, that's all.

You dismiss as “horseshit” something of which, by your own admission, you have no real knowledge or personal experience? How very broad minded of you.

I’m the crazy ex-nun schoolteacher. Everyone is terrified and several parents have threatened lawsuits but the school backs her to the hilt because she and her mother singlehandedly run the parish.

I've seen enough of what religion does to people r79. You can't be American and not be immersed in religion, even if you are not personally religious.

And there's also what Christopher Hitchens said about religion: "What can be asserted without evidence can be dismissed without evidence."

I'm the millions in federal assistance due to the pandemic.

Don't bother trying to look for me, I'm long gone.

Ooo, the preacher has a new car!

I'm the closeted gay Roman Catholic priests. At least 3/4 of the priests in the US, right?

I’m the chill that greets you when you walk through the doors.

I'm the electric candles that completely contradict the spiritual purpose of the real ones, substituting a cosmetic facsimile of the smoke intended to carry one's prayers upward.

What's next, electric censors blowing holographic incense?

No kidding, electric candles were the last straw. I used to love the scent dropping in at St Mary's once in awhile in the Strand neighbourhood in central London.

No wonder the fools can't hold on to worshippers.

I'm the barefoot lesbian doing a dance with a pot of incense around the altar at the lgbtq friendly Anglo-Catholic parish!

Good enough for you R85?

I’m the 8-year-old gayling who likes the pageantry but also has a few suggestions.

^**censers, not censors. Apparently, the word is too esoteric for autocorrect. R85

[quote] What's next, electric censors blowing holographic incense?

Oh, dear!

Apologies, r88. My DL is not refreshing this morning.

I’m the 50/50 raffle at the annual gala fundraiser. The winner is expected to set an example of magnanimity by donating all of the prize money back to the parish.

I, Todd, am the leader of the household. When I get home from my contracting job, Kaleigh has dinner made. She works out every morning, takes care of the kids, and runs her side business hustle. Our kids, Braxleigh, Bryleigh, Jayleigh, Harleigh, and Marleigh are the leaders in the kids choir. After church on Sundays, we like to go to Olive Garden or Chili's.

Miss Millie made her famous Weineroni Casserole for us when Kaleigh went to the river on a girls trip.

Thank God we live in Texas. Keep those liberals out! Yep, we still got the Trump flag up!

I’m the phrase “I asked the Lord and He said.......”. I am used to justify new cars, trips aboard, and larger homes.

I am always, always used when a desperate family member asks for any type of assistance.

I am the Spirit coming through!

I'm the pastors son who got arrested for arson and turned out to be a sex slave in a Satanic cult.

I'm the irrelevancy.

I’m the basement.

I'm Aunt Esther after the Pastor tells her she looks nice today.

I'm the "accident" that happens to those who don't put anything into the collection plate.

I'm actually the old woman who prays for people and is extremely nice.

Unfortunately her husband, who sold insurance, passed away early and she does not have as much money as she thought she would at this age.

Is she Rose?

I'm the congregations real purpose.

I'm 3rd/4th generational nepotism

I'm the muscle guy who dresses in shirt and tie and goes into the dunk tank. People keep throwing balls because they can see my hairy chest and nipples through the shirt. Some of the elders are acutely aware.

At the church summer festival, of course.

I'm the children's counselor currently in solitary confinement so the other inmates don't shank me.

I’m the old lady that suffers from fecal incontinence. I also suffer from dementia, so I forgot to wear my depends to Wednesday night service. On my way to the PT Cruisin’ class, I dropped several hot steamy turds in the fellowship hall. I never realized it, but everyone else in the building did.

I'm the singing at Vacation Bible School - "Faaaa theeer Abraham had many sons and many sons had father Abraham......"

I am the liberal Methodist Church that allows for women pastors. How scandalous

I'm the colonialism and genocide.

[quote] I am the liberal Methodist Church that allows for women pastors. How scandalous.

I’m the grays and gays who make up all ten people in the congregation.

I'm the tax breaks and hypocrisy.