Lillee in Christianland

Tonight was an experience I would sooner forget. Hopefully, you will not experience a similar event, but most likely, you probably already have or will.

It was going to be pleasant. I had received an email from an old friend who I had not seen in a number of years. She had moved to the west coast and was coming into the area. She wanted to see her old friends and arranged for a meeting in a hotel lounge in town. It could have read like a script from "Friends." Unfortunately, this time it was a plot taken from the 700 Club or the Spanish Inquisition.

I arrived at the event with Deidrui, and we sat down with my old friend, who we shall call Sara. It immediately felt like old times. We just got into talking about ourselves and what had been happening around town. Sara asked me what had been going on in my life. We talked about my job and then about my personal life.

Because I have always been open with my friends and co-workers, Sara was well aware that I am a Witch. She had never had a problem with it. As I was in the middle of talking to her about the major change that had recently occurred, another friend of hers, this one from her college, joined the group, and we were all introduced. I continued my story.

I looked at Sharon, and said "By the way, remember all those years ago, when I told you about the Satanist I had a crush on in Boston? She nodded in agreement and I told her that I was now involved with him and was finalizing plans to move to the east coast again permanently. Her friend immediately spoke up.

"Why?" stated the friend.
"Why am I moving?" I said, rather confused. She nodded and had an angry look on her face. I patiently tried to explain again the situation as if to a small child.
"Why?" she again stated. I looked at her incredulously.
"Why what?" I answered, now a little perturbed.
"Why would you ever involve yourself with a Satanist?"

I then patiently explained to her that I was not one to judge anyone on their faith, and that it was not as if his religion was a shock to me, having known about it for two decades. She then continued this line of questioning, actually asking me why I would continue to associate with such a person for so long. When I tried to explain that I had met John in a situation that had nothing to do with religion to begin with, she brushed that off. It was totally inconsequential to her that a Satanist could have any worth. She then explained that I was no better because I was "some kind of Wiccan."

I again patiently explained that I really was not a kind of Wiccan, but she interrupted by explaining that she was a born again Christian (as if I had not figured this out by now). Deidrui was simmering quietly beside me. I give her credit as she had not lunged over the table.

When I tried to explain to her that I ran a tolerance site on the net and worked with Christian ministers and people of all faiths, she laughed and said that I was being my own God. While it was an interesting point, I left that one alone.

I then tried another tactic; I explained to her slowly, that I had been trained very well in Christianity and respected the Catholic tradition. She laughed hysterically in my face and stated that Catholics were pagans of the worst kind. I was not sure where that put my favorite Satanist at that moment but I was not going to ask. I knew then this was not the type of person who understood reason.

I was right. She followed this up with the statement that only Jesus Christ was the truth and that sites like mine spread falsehood. While I tried to explain that teenagers needed to be reached on the net, she stated that no Christian teenagers ever went awry. (Ignorance must be bliss!) Again, I did not touch that one.

I only replied to her final volley because it made my red hair stand on end. She hated Satanists, she said, because they cursed. That did it. I gently reminded her that according to the Bible, Jesus cursed a fig tree. She yelled something at me. I am sure it was not a curse, and walked away from our table. In the meantime, Sara had been talking to another friend who had arrived. Needless to say, Deidrui and I had been baptized in the ignorance of the uneducated at the bar in the Ramada, and decided to go on our unholy way.

The moral of this story? If we come out of the proverbial broom closet, sooner or later you will get swept away by the stupidity of others. I have no problem that she was a born again. If the fact that I brought up the "S" word offended her, and if she had said, "I am sorry, but I am a born again," we could have dropped the conversation and immediately moved to a topic that would have been more comfortable. We could have shared the recipes that she got at the latest church supper, we could have discussed Pastor's last sermon, or even the latest bridal fashions. The one thing that pagans, Satanists, gays, lesbians, and other minorities have learned over the years is to blend in. We have learned to talk about topics that do not interest us or often even affect us, but instead we learn from them.

The bottom line: We know a lot about our "friends," but they know so little about us. I have been a childless woman for years, but I can tell you all about the best child care centers in town, and the best places to get maternity clothes. I know which churches have the most active evangelization programs, as I have been invited to them again and again. Very few of these same friendly acquaintances know where or how I worship, and probably would not think to ask. I know the names of their children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews. They probably do not even remember if I own dogs or cats. One of these friends was shocked to find out after five years that they had never known my real name. That is sort of scary when you consider I have even written checks to him in the past.

These are my friends in the real world. They know a lot about my job and a lot about who I am in the mundane, but they know very little about me.

Lillee C. Allee
August 1, 2003

copyright 2003 JDA/lca First Church of Satan