Radical Reptiles and Religion

Published in the ISJ in June 2013

Recent non-discrimination ordinance efforts have spurred conversations with people about my political affiliations, my sexual orientation and my religious faith. Could you come with three things more personal and private? I’d much rather discuss turtles.

My box turtle Myrtle turns 30 at the end of July. Myrtle accompanied me on vacations to Yellowstone, Jackson Hole, and the Oregon coast, and when the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figures were born, Michelangelo, Leonardo, Donatello and Raphael joined us on our adventures. Myrtle spawned a vast collection and love of everything turtle.

The ninja turtles have undergone a number of redesigns since their inception. Religion has, too. The turtles as well as the faith I grew up with were inviting, benevolent and fun. Today, they both appear mean, scary, and harsh. You can still find the laid back vintage ninja turtle t-shirts and churches scattered about, but they both take some searching.
City councils and other lawmakers can’t do anything about the radical heroes in a half shell. They can’t nor should they do anything about my objections with specific religions, but they can and should prevent religious condemnation from spilling out of churches and into the civic lives of GLBT citizens.

In the ordinance debate of late, every hurtful word or use of scripture to justify anything other than equality and protection exposed the atmosphere necessitating such legislation. Our words are protected. Our faiths are protected. Our expressions of political affiliation are even protected, but the most recent ordinance language highlighting Idaho’s Religious Freedom’s Act along with the actions behind the verbiage are a flashing beacon of how unprotected GLBT people are in our region.

I feel stuck in a modern day Babel when people quote the Bible to leverage a war on homosexuality and when the language of love, acceptance, and humility are lost amidst the contradiction and judgment. I appreciate and respect the religious freedoms, however, that allow our differing interpretations. We are fortunate to have both a freedom of religion and a freedom from it in this country. That can be a tricky balance to maintain.

As a child I learned of “In the beginning”, Joseph, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Job, Jonah, and Malachi. I discovered the risqué text of Song of Songs, which was the only time I skipped football at recess to read the scriptures. I learned about the virgin, the manger, baptism, the bread and the fish, and the humility of cleansing feet with tears. I learned of the last supper and the kiss of betrayal and the crucifixion. “Forgive them Father for they know not what they do.” I learned of the resurrection and hope; forgiveness and peace; and the comfort of enveloping, unconditional love of a Father.

I mention my background in religious teachings for two reasons.

First is to convey that I understand how early the seeds of faith are planted for many and how they come to grow so deep. I grasp the precedents for allowing arguably discriminatory practices within a church, but not outside of it. Examples might include prohibiting women in leadership roles, membership restrictions, and excommunications. Incidentally, there wasn't a female ninja turtle in the original release, and I thought the introduction of one in the late 90’s was a clumsy and misguided attempt at gender inclusion.

While I disagree with churches that don't offer equal opportunities for men and women or those who persecute people based on their sexual orientation or gender identity, I support their right to define their own theology and the speech that accompanies it. It is that speech of late that that leads to the second reason for approaching the intersection of faith and sexuality in such a public forum.

I can speak to how damaging the disparaging words in the name of God are to members of the GLBT community who grow up in a church. Many leave their churches fueled by a primal sense of self preservation and a need to escape. The extraneous text highlighting the “Idaho Free Exercise of Religion Act” in Pocatello’s non-discrimination ordinance indicates no escape. With the Act already on the books, that text doesn’t need to be in there. It’s a punch to the gut and encourages religious condemnation to spill into the civic arena: If one can assert “religious freedom” when it comes to denying a home or job, will medical treatment be next?

That’s plain mean, scary and harsh, or as Michelangelo of old would say, “a bodacious bummer, Dude.”  

TMNT video game in the Boise Mall in 1990ish.