
Sunday I will spend part of the afternoon watching the film “For the Bible Tells Me So” at the Liberal Catholic Church in
Casa Grande and being a panelist for a discussion after the film. A growing rural area halfway between Tucson and Phoenix,
Casa Grande is in search for an identity that is not about being a suburb of either Tucson or Phoenix.
I needed to preview the film and give myself plenty of time this week to process its content and prepare to the best panelist I could be on Sunday. So in goes the DVD which starts with a tearful Anita Bryant wiping a fruit pie from her face and praying for the homosexual that hurled it at her from across the room.
For 95 minutes I was taken on an unexpected journey. I
didn’t expect to feel physically sick, I bawled like a baby, I let out several of those guttural activist grunts, I was educated, I cheered, I was challenged in my own prejudices about religion and I was angry.
Having been raised Catholic I am all too familiar with the abuse religious institutions heap on its congregants to maintain order, to make money and to ensure there is always an “other”. (You’ll have to see the film to understand “other”.)
The film finally ended and the song “True Colors” begins to a backdrop of photo stills and film credits. I leaned forward in my chair, exhausted, tears still streaming down my cheeks. From across the room Aspen, my dog, jumps down from the couch comes over to my chair and puts his head in my lap. He looked up at me as if to say, “I’m giving you a hug.”
I don’t know what I will say sitting on that panel next Sunday. I can’t predict that I wouldn’t repeat tonight’s emotional journey, including the various outbursts that surprised even me. I can only hope (some would say pray) that I find the same gentle kindness Aspen brought with me next Sunday when undoubtedly there will be folks in the room with their own anger, prejudices and joy to process.
I’ll let you know how it goes,
Barbara McCullough-Jones
Executive Director of Equality Arizona