Sometimes Hate Hurts

I call out bullshit in Christianity, the Church, its Theology, and its leaders.

I’m also affirming and inclusive. I believe we all belong. Of course, the problem is that those who don’t think everyone belongs are the ones who exclude themselves from the human community of Oneness.

Love is my message. Art is my language.
Everyone knows that about me by now.
But wow do I ever get hate for it.
And sometimes I get tired.

I appreciated Rushdie’s admission of his hurt. Not just the physical pain of the attack, but the emotional hurt he suffered when his Satanic Verses came out, the subsequent fatwa, the years of fear and security and hiding, the rejection he suffered in the literary community and elsewhere, then the attack and the reaction to that.

• “He brought it on himself.”
• “He basically asked for it.”
• “He shouldn’t have gone there. He should’ve known there’d be repercussions.”
• “He should have known better.”
• “He deserved what he got.”
• Etcetera.

He reveals how hurt and disappointed he was by all that.
I get it.

Every day I gain new followers, almost as fast as I lose them.

I’m always hearing from someone, “Okay, you’ve gone too far. Unfollowing.”

One woman last week said, “You said you were the NakedPastor, but I don’t appreciate the full frontal nudity. I’m unfollowing you.”

I guess there are levels of nakedness. But here’s another thing people should know about me: The reason I called myself the NakedPastor is because I’m going to be the one who gets naked… as in vulnerable, real, raw, transparent, and honest, with no adornment or hiding behind a façade. I’m going to be as real as I can be. And I’m going to post it. You’re reading my private journal. Primarily, I’m not trying to gain a following. I appreciate it. But my primary goal is to be real and honest in front of everyone. Vulnerable out loud.

I’m free to do that. You’re free to watch.
And you’re free to respond or react or reject too.
I’ll be honest: I prefer the love. I don’t like the hate. It hurts.

Some days are harder than others. Not because of the intensity of the attacks, but mostly because of the sensitivity of my heart that day.

I know I’m helping people. Some people even say I saved their life! So I won’t stop.
But I’ll admit… sometimes I wish it was easier.

Hate is flying in every direction at the moment. At me and at others. I'm just trying to keep my head up. Thank you for hanging in there with me.
And for listening to my rants.