Their Philosophy Is a House of Cards So They Try to Ban the Wind

Our children deserve to be warned about con artists who leverage grief, fear, and discrimination for profit

When the girl went missing, the local pastor wasn’t among those who searched to find her. That was left to Isak and me. But when she was found and the national media turned up at my daughter’s school to cover the tragedy, old Gabe was there like an ambulance chaser in search of an easy buck.

As I stood in the parking lot, he sauntered over and said, “I thought I’d better show up because the media doesn’t know how to behave itself.” Then he winked.

Right then, the media was the last thing on my mind. I was still paralyzed with shock over what had happened. In fact, I was in such a bad state that it should have been obvious to anyone who claimed it was his occupation to care for the human soul.

I guess Gabe was too fixated on the cameras to notice. He was like a shepherd so focused on the flock that he couldn’t see the sheep.

My daughter emerged from the school and I got out of there. I didn’t want her or me or my car to appear in the background of any footage. All the different news trucks were perched about like vultures and the pastor stood before them basking in the shadow of notoriety.

Uvalde happened a few days later. I made a social media post denouncing assault rifles. Pastor Gabe chirped in to defend the Second Amendment. I’ve asked him to use the pulpit to denounce racism in response to harassment directed at my wife and children, but he didn’t want to “offend” his congregation. He didn’t want to get “too political.”

Yet, he found his voice to speak in defense of child-murdering weapons of war.

I sent him a profanity-laced tirade and blocked him, but you can’t be free of these people, not really. America has historically bent over backward to accommodate delusional viewpoints. There are those who claim they respect “both sides” of an issue, but then they labor tirelessly to bury the side of tolerance, dignity, and reason.

Too many losses

A few days ago our community suffered another loss. The service will be held tonight at Gabe’s church.

I would like to go and pay my respects to the family, but I can’t take another round of Gabe using other people’s grief to line his pockets. Don’t be fooled if they claim they don’t charge. Oh, they’re going to ask you for money one way or another.

A little smile.

A little wink.

“Give what you can… and it better be enough.”

Above all, it sickens me to be in the presence of anyone who believes gender disqualifies my daughters from holding a position of authority. My daughters might aspire to become the spiritual leaders for our community, but too bad. The church forbids women from being ordained.

Carrying around such a belief in your heart is sufficient to corrupt the soul.

Exceptions for religion

I run into a lot of people who want to talk to me about their religious beliefs. If somebody starts talking about their beliefs, then I feel I have a right to talk about mine. If they mention their church, I feel I have a right to ask them some questions about what their church believes.

How am I wrong?

However, religious people consider some questions to be “inappropriate.” They’re fine with making you the focal point of their criticism, but they become affronted when that feeling is reflected back at them.

That’s backward.

This happens a lot with the idea of sin. I refuse to be labeled “a sinner.” I reply, “That’s your belief, and I’d kindly ask you not to impose your religious beliefs on me. If you want to label yourself as a sinner, I have no problem with that. Let’s hear it. Tell me about what you’re doing wrong and how you can do better. But labeling me as a sinner is an offensive intrusion upon my religious liberties. Don’t talk to me about the sacrifice you claim you or anyone else ever made on my behalf. I reject your basic premise. It’s disrespectful.”

I believe kids should be allowed to hear this in schools. How can we effectively teach that discrimination is wrong if we make exceptions for religion?

We have an obligation to inform little girls that they have a right to become spiritual leaders if that’s their calling. Why do we sacrifice the future of children to protect the delusions of abusive men? We’re far too comfortable with this arrangement.

The fear of women in power

When people start talking about their church I ask, “Does your church allow women to be ordained?”

Our society needs to accept that this is a completely reasonable line of inquiry. When somebody tells you about their church, it’s a marketing pitch. If they want me to consider bringing my daughters into an organization, I want to know if that organization practices blatant discrimination against women.

I would be a bad father if I pressured my daughters to tolerate that kind of treatment.

Make no mistake, it’s abuse.

Often, people will try to justify themselves with statements such as: “Well, currently no, but that’s something we’re working to change.”

“Yeah, that’s not good enough,” I reply. “Your ongoing participation in the institution passively enables discrimination to continue. Come back and talk to me when you have results instead of promises. Better yet, send an ordained woman to tell me.”

If you claim your church allows it, then where are they?

It seems to me I often hear about more “progressive” churches, but I don’t actually see them anywhere. If they are out there, they should be vocal in their agreement with me. Instead, I tend to get flooded with demands for recognition of infrequent, inconsequential acts that fail to make so much as a ripple of social impact.

It’s not good enough. I’m not interested in listening to men lecture me about spirituality.

Everything in America is about making a buck

If you want to get an idea about what a life is worth in the United States, watch what happens when somebody dies. News trucks are just the first wave of vultures, but if the name of the deceased doesn’t draw a crowd, then another breed of vulture comes swooping in.

A couple of years ago, a neighbor a few blocks down the road passed away. There was a garage sale to get rid of all her possessions, and then there was a dumpster for everything that didn’t sell.

The neighborhood Trumpers used to conglomerate in a backyard up the alley from my house. One night, I saw one of them scramble into the dumpster, and then scramble back out with an armful of junk. He had a smile on his face from ear to ear, “Look at all this great stuff.”

All I could think was, “Human rat.”

Vultures see grief and pain as an opportunity for profit

There are all these tragic elements of existence that we’re conditioned not to consider. All the precious treasures you’ve hoarded all your life are likely going to end up in a landfill. That’s just a fact. All that stuff anchoring you down is junk. All that stuff you cling to at the expense of helping your fellow human beings is meaningless. Nostalgia makes us think otherwise, but it’s true.

We have to transform society to the point where we recognize consoling grief has value beyond the illusory benefits of personal and political profit. When all your junk and money is in the landfill, what will remain of you?

We have a society of rats in nicer suits who have trained the population to give them their cut so they’re spared the indignity of diving into dumpsters. We have a nation that leverages fear to tighten the grip of control.

Fear of death.

Fear of loss.

Fear that if you build a bigger table, you’ll be left with too little for yourself.

Our spiritual leaders need to combat these fears. The path of salvation lies in the opposite direction.

There are people who know the truth

Maybe it’s time to give people who have been gutted by tragedy the opportunity to have their say. There are some things you endure that bestow upon you the vision to see past the deceit of corruption.

You’d have to coax the words out of them because, in the blazing heat of harsh reality, those who have seen the truth are disinclined to seek any artificial spotlight.

Today, we deliberately silence the voices of maturity and reason. We silence the parents who have lost their children in mass shootings. We silence the people who have been subjected to oppression and abuse. We don’t hear their stories because it makes the general public feel “uncomfortable.”

Well, maybe the public should feel uncomfortable.

The people who know the truth are told “Now is not the time,” and they’re ushered away as the fancy pastor in his expensive suit steps into the spotlight to sell the same old snake oil that hasn’t cured anything in over 2,000 years. He craves attention, and he uses the opportunity to fortify the mechanism of deceit which he relies on to benefit himself.

He tells your daughters they’re not good enough to do what he does.

A demand for unquestioned obedience to a higher power is the cornerstone of authoritarianism. There is comfort to be gained through spirituality, but there is always the danger that extremists will leverage any belief system for their personal gain. The fact that people become uncomfortable when you try to have a polite discussion on this topic is proof that we’re already living under extremist rule.

All I’m saying is that we need to find some balance and give equal time to both sides. We already know what doesn’t work, the evidence can be seen in our corrupt reality. Let’s try something new. It’s time for a woman to lead us.