Faith has been an odd staple in my family for my entire life. Like most folks growing up in the South, my parents would scrub us up, make us put little clip-on neckties on our crisp white shirts, with our Montgomery Ward slacks and jackets.
Off we’d go to the Church of Christ, an odd choice, since neither my mother or (step)father were of that denomination. This was a vestige of my biological father’s “faith” (not sure he EVER set foot in a church post-divorce, with the exception of weddings and funerals), and I always found it weird that my mother continued the practice.
Strange as it may seem now, I was actually baptized in the Church of Christ. Full on dunking in the little tank behind the pulpit. I was one of the youngest people ever to be baptized in this church. Mostly because I knew how to bullshit even then. I told Pastor Jay everything he wanted to hear. I even told him I thought I wanted to be a preacher, just like him.
In actuality, Little 10 year old O’Pine just wanted Pastor Jay to hold him for a little while, even if it was under water in a simulated drowning. He was a hottie, but Day-um that man sure was verbose when he was holding a member of his flock under water. Little did he know, this flocker just wanted to hold his member. I know, sacrilege.
By the time my older siblings were out of the house, we had begun attending the Methodist church, which was the faith of my (step)father. But once I began to realize that small town Christians were uniformly casting my people (the gays) into eternal damnation, I realized that there was no way I could continue to attend church.
I knew I was a good person. I knew God had made me this way. And I knew that I couldn’t embrace any philosophy or congregation that was so willing to throw that all out based on one element of my being--especially since God had made me this way.
All these years I have found myself longing for a deeper spiritual connection. Wanting to find a faith that spoke to me, made sense to me, and mostly—embraced me for the totality of my being. And while I am loathe to proselytize, I am so overjoyed to have found my spiritual home that I am compelled to share that with you, dear reader.
For a while now, I have been quietly studying the work of L.Ron Hubbard. Like most folks, I saw Scientology as a quack religion for vacuous, closeted celebrities. I mean, Hubbard was just a hack science fiction writer, right? I found that was not the case at all. I found a spiritual home. I found like-mindedness. I found a philosophy based on sound science, intertwined with faith. It’s not like those other religions where the mythology seems so far fetched. And while I know it sounds funny, Xenu and the Thetans really explain so much about where we are as a society.
My road trip with Gardog a couple of weeks ago sealed the deal for me. His vast knowledge of religion, philosophy and mythology kept us in deep conversation for much of the long trip. I didn’t share with him what I was feeling, but hearing what he had to say made me certain I was making the right choice for my spiritual future.
So, once we got to LA, I sneaked off for a secret side trip to the Celebrity Center. I felt like I was home. And about to embark on the greatest journey of my life.
Anyhoo, I won’t go into the details. I want my faith to be a private matter between me, Xenu (and hopefully Tom Cruise!! Wouldn’t that be cool) and the Thetans.
But I hope you will wish me well on this journey. Peace.