I’m horrified that we locked my sweet, loveable, funny aunt into a prison of silence, where she dreaded the day she would die and go to the hell we had created.
It has taken me a long time to see that our religion could be a tool to prey on the vulnerable. The baptismal waters come closer to drowning them rather than cleansing them.
If I was wrong, then God could come down, shut my mouth, and explain how could he be anything but delighted with this woman. But since he remained silent, I went with my own thoughts.
Church can’t be a place for openness and healing when its basic premise is that people are awful sinners who caused the death of God’s child.