The Homo Thing

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I have recently been reading The God of Sex by Peter Jones, and have been very impressed by it. Jones very ably shows, as his subtitle declares, “How Spirituality Defines Your Sexuality.” Homosex — not to mention all the other laundry list perversions that gender studies departments like to catalog for us — is a function of a resurgent monistic paganism. It is not a function of genetic determinism.

The natural alliance between militant homos and the corrupt priesthoods of many of our churches is no accident — there are deep roots here, going back to ancient times and ancient faiths. And there is no way to combat all this apart from a robust and faithful return to a worship of the triune God, led by faithful husbands and fathers. That was the theme of an issue of Credenda a few years back, and the same basic realities continue to unfold themselves for us.

Now someone might say that he thinks I have something to contribute on this subject, but he winces every time I say something like “militant homos.” He would prefer an academic’s admonition . . . “It seems that one might be able to say, when all is said and done, that a scriptural case outlining a disapprobation, at the end of the day, of homosexual behaviors continued unrepentantly, might possibly be made.” Compare this with, say, the more direct: “Poofters really ought to knock it off.”

At the end of the day what will actually happen is that both of us will be hauled off to a thought crimes reeducation center, and my soft-spoken friend will be convinced to the last that it was because I wouldn’t stop saying things like poofter or homo. A more likely reason, in my thinking, is that abashed and effeminate rhetoric is not what you find in the mouths of fathers and husbands who actually understand what is going on around here. At any rate, my initial thought was that my friend and I would have plenty of time to debate the relative merits of our respective positions in between our mandatory attendance at the sensitivity sessions and consciousness-raising classes. But I kept getting tripped up in the consciousness-raising Queer Theory seminars. In the Q&A, I asked, for example, why the instructor gets to say queer and I don’t get to. That got me set back to start the whole course over again three times. My friend graduated the first time through, so we didn’t have as much time to talk about it as I thought we might.

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