Your Religion Is Not My Religion

Okay, I am not a religious person. I believe how you live your life is more important than where you go to worship. I will not interfere with your religion if you let me live my life.

But there are some who feel it is a God giving right to butt in on how I live my life.

I'm transgender, and evangelicals tried to pray for me. I prayed for them instead
For years, I navigated conservative religious spaces where I encountered bigotry and attempts to shame LGBT+ people
Independent
By Charlotte Clymer
June 16, 2018

On Sunday afternoon I was sitting in front of a cafe in downtown Washington, sipping coffee under a sliver of roof on a wet day, minding my own business, when three people who were clearly tourists walked up and gestured for me to take out my headphones. When I did, one asked: “Can we pray for you?”

I asked why they wanted to pray for me, and the same person answered that they felt called by God to walk the streets of DC and let God’s voice tell them who might be “broken” or otherwise need prayer.

Broken.

As a Christian, I’m opposed to neither prayer nor people praying specifically for me, at least not when it’s done in good faith.
[…]
It angered me that the whole of my being could be reduced to their flawed understanding of LGBT+ people, a view that could easily be revised if only they would take the time to get to know me instead of assuming they already did.

So I would be damned if I would let them interrupt my Sunday afternoon coffee when I certainly wasn’t bothering them.

What she did in response is classic!

 I stood up, smiling but internally annoyed, and asked them what the Book of Matthew says about prayer. Their eyes went wide. One guy stammered nervously, clearly having trouble answering the question.

The other two were just as flummoxed, ambushed by the idea that the “broken” transgender person was asking a simple question about a common verse on prayer in Matthew.
[…]
“You know how Matthew says that where two or three are gathered in Jesus’ name, there he is with us?”

They stared at me blankly. I had no intention of going easy on them.

“That is what Matthew says, is it not?”

At last, one spoke up: “Yes, that’s right.”

“So let’s pray.”

And they nervously stepped forward into a circle.

“Lord Jesus, thank you for the benefit of these friends,” I began, wholly honest with God about how I hoped she would bless my new friends, encouraging them to affirm and be inclusive of others. I was hopeful that their community would honour all as God made them and value the strength of diversity.

I mentioned the natural beauty of the LGBT+ community and thanked God again for making us as we are, throwing in a genuine wish that their trip back home would be a safe one.

Then, knowing my audience, I wrapped up with the usual evangelical banal phraseology – “no weapons shall be formed against them”, “put God on their hearts” – to let them know I was just as familiar with their community’s vernacular as they were, maybe more so.

Me I would have said something like “And my Satan be with you.” and they probably would have gone off sputtering.

But seriously why do people think that it is okay to force their religion on others, there are hundreds of war being fought right now to force people to one religion or another. From what I have learned about religions from around the world they all have a common theme, love one another, not hate and surely not to blow the brains out of non-believers. But somehow His message has been corrupted to hate and violence.

The article ends with…

Prayer should be a loving act, not a weapon of marginalisation.

To that I say amen.