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Mass had ended long ago, but Jason still sat in the pew, mind circling with thoughts. He had gone to a different church this week, one he had never visited before, and found himself constantly glancing around. Along the two long walls were stained glass images, each depicting a different story from the bible, with plaques next to them marking the Stations of the Cross. For the first twenty minutes or so after mass ended, Jason had watched some of the parishioners go through this devotional, watching on as each stopped to pray at each of the fourteen plaques, before the church was finally emptied. Then, his attention was drawn up towards the altar. Above the altar, on the wall, was a round, stained glass window depicting an image of Jesus leading a flock of sheep in a meadow. The rainbow of colours illuminated the altar and caused the golden candlesticks to sparkle. To Jason, there was something magical about a church, something alive that thrummed through him.
But this time, his heart ached with worry. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to pray away these feelings. At his usual churches, everyone would always rave about how those people were going to be damned for all eternity, all because of who they were and who they loved, but that did not sit well with Jason. It felt… off. But who was Jason to contradict the priests? Jason sighed, covering his face with his hands, and bowed his head in desperate prayer.
‘Please’ He prayed, dragging his hands from over his face into the familiar clasped form, his fingers interlaced, as they usually were during his prayers, ‘Please, just give me a sign. Something… anything!’
As if in answer to his prayer, Father Patrick, the priest who had led the church in mass that day, walked out from the sacristy. He seemed to sense Jason’s gaze, as he turned to face the boy, then smiled and walked his way. Jason tensed, relieved to be broken from his thoughts but worried about what would come from this, and did his best to smile.
“Good morning, young man. Mass is over, and the confessional is closed until evening, so you can’t be here for those. How can I help you?”
Jason slid over in the pew, offering the corner spot for Father Patrick, and twiddled his thumbs. Taking in a deep breath, and drawing on every spec of courage he could find, he faced Father Patrick and spoke.
“Father Patrick. Why does God want to punish people for who they love?”
“In my experience, God is like any parent. He will punish those who need it, but he does not enjoy punishing his children. He wants to see them thrive and be happy. But that’s not what you’re asking, is it?”
Jason shook his head, but smiled and relaxed a bit more at Father Patrick’s affable manner.
“In the other churches, they constantly quote ‘Man shall not lie with man the way he lies with women.’ They say gay people will suffer for all eternity because they’re sinful, because their love is a terrible offence. But I don’t understand it. It doesn’t make sense.”
Father Patrick nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes, that is often quoted, but did you know it was a mistranslation?” When Jason blinked in surprise, Father Patrick laughed and said “Yes, indeed, it was! Somewhere along the line, someone either made a mistake or purposefully mistranslated the line. Originally it was ‘Man should not lie with a boy the way he lies with a woman.’ It was speaking out against those adults who try to use children and have an intimacy with them that is reserved for consenting adults.”
Jason considered this surprise. It had been a mistake? All those people trying to use his religion against him and people he loved, were wrong, and not just for trying to use their religion as an excuse to cause harm. He sucked in a shaky breath as he realised maybe, just maybe, God still loved him.
Father Patrick smiled gently, patted Jason on the shoulder, and said “Even if the translation was correct, I believe in a loving God. One who wants us to embrace ourselves and others in the boundless ability for kindness and love that he has granted us with. How can loving someone be a sin?”
Jason nodded, it all made so much more sense. Then another thought crossed his mind. Another hatred, another confusion, but no bible verses used or misused.
“Father Patrick? What about… people who are a different gender than everyone thinks? A lot of parishes seem to think they’re just confused or really sinful, or devil worshipers, but–”
“But that doesn’t seem right?” Father Patrick interrupted, raising an eyebrow as Jason nodded shyly. “Well, you have good instincts. God may have made us, but we were the ones who chose the labels each new life is given. We’re only human, of course we make mistakes. These people, who struggle with their gender not matching the label that was given to them, are no more sinful than you or I. Being themselves causes no harm, and it is far from an affront on God. Some people, while ready to quote and misquote the bible for their uses, seem to forget one easy to remember quote. Matthew, Chapter 7, Verse 1 ‘Judge not, that ye be not judged.’ Perhaps if they spent a little less time judging others, and a little more time reflecting on themselves, they would find peace.”
The silence stretched on as Jason absorbed Father Patrick’s words. His heart felt at peace again. He still had much to learn, but at least now he felt seen and heard by someone who actually knew what they were talking about.
“Now then, does that answer all your questions?” Father Patrick asked patiently, after a silence that Jason feared had gone on for far too long.
“Yes, thank you Father!”
“Anytime, child. And I hope to see you here again next Sunday.”
“I’ll be here! You can count on it!”
Jason waved to Father Patrick before turning and walking briskly out of the church, his heart thrumming with the joy and peace he had finally found.