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Aleksander Constantinoropolous's avatar

Bo, this space is like a campfire at the edge of the theological forest. Warm, a little wild, and full of people whispering things they weren’t allowed to say back in Sunday School.

Your invitation is holy in the most heretically beautiful way. You’re not luring us back into belief. You’re holding open the door to wonder, mystery, and grown-up God talk that doesn’t require us to check our grief, rage, or intelligence at the chapel door.

Already downloading Layers of Faith like it’s sacred contraband.

Thank you for making room for the wanderers, the sacred misfits, and the Church Alumni still twitching from communion wine trauma.

With love from the spiritual witness protection program,

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Beth Ann Kepple's avatar

Thank Goddess there's a spiritual witness protection program or I wouldnt consider it.

And at least one reason I need this..... Recovering alcoholic here, first time I got drunk was at my 18th b'day party my parents threw at our house. Just a few relatives, my siblings, my boyfriend & 6 different kinds of wine, some of which my dad proudly made. Well after 1st glass of Blue Nun I just kept chugging, cried over the lint brush from my great aunt "I've always wanted one!", then puked all over the bathroom, just like a good drunk does their first time when STOP isn't an option. Guess what? Communion at church the next day & oh yes, my parents made me go. With a hangover headache that felt like Satan was drilling his minions into my skull, I thot I was gonna hurl on the minister but I managed to gag it down (consequences would be dramatic if that happened)

All that to say -

YES Alek's right, communion wine trauma is a real thing.

Thanx for offering refuge, Bo

🍾🍷👹😈✝️😵‍💫

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