I went to church for the first time in years earlier this year because my mother wouldn’t let me be. The mass I attended was that of January when, as commonly practised in the Lagos archdiocese, parishes organise programmes to hand over the year to God. As mass was going on with praise and worship lifting the spirits of the people up to God, I felt a wave of nostalgia sweep through me. I had missed church.

Mass soon ended and I made to go home since charismatic-like programmes are not my thing. I mean, it was going the way of Pentecostal worship, with all the healing and deliverance and noisy prayers, and I wanted to simply go home and rest. But my mother nixed that plan when she pleaded for me to stay and I couldn’t say no.

Shortly after, as the praising was going on, the priest emerged from the sacristy and urged everyone to be seated. He looked to be in his middle age, a tall, dark man with a nerdy look and salt-and-pepper beard. He began a soulful monologue, admonishing the faithful to be intentional about their relationship with God. And then, in a low voice, he said, “I know there is one man here who sleeps with men. He is present here and the Holy Spirit is speaking to me to tell you to drop that act.”

As he said this, the parishioners were expressing their disgust by spitting out their Tufiakwa, snapping their fingers and murmuring disdainful words as their eager eyes scanned everyone else, hoping to fish out whoever this abomination was that was seated in their midst.

As I observed these histrionics, I shook my head scornfully. These people were acting brand-new about homosexuality, and they were the ones who were constantly plagued with shameful scandals in this church. This was the church that had been rocked with claims of embezzlement and some officials stealing from church building projects, the scandal of male parishioners from the Catholic Men Organisation impregnating girls from the youths organisation, of male youths arrested over their involvement in yahoo scam, and the lack of neighborly love characterized by the fiery gossip they use to undermine anyone who is under ugly speculation.

I shook my head again, chuckling as I made a mental note not to attend church again. Suddenly, I had remembered one of the reasons I distanced myself from all this.

I turned my disdainful look to the priest. What was it with these religious leaders and their unrelenting demonization of gay people? A church service could literally be about any number of issues, and yet, somehow, homosexuality would find its way to the mouth to the person at the altar.

Why can’t these people just rest? I thought wrathfully.

And speaking of his proclamation that “there is ONE man here who sleeps with men,” I laughed sardonically at that, because I could already spot more than five gay men sitting in the church. I could see one of them who I was friends with seated some pews away from me. I had already seen two others who I’d met on Grindr and another one whose acquaintance I made on Tinder. I mean, if the Holy Spirit was going to out homosexuals in church, the least He could do was get the number right.

At this point, I’d truly had enough and ignoring my mother’s furious look, I excused myself and left the church. I would appease her when she gets home by simply asking her about how the deliverance session went and then feign rapt interest when she goes into her gist about who and who fell from their demon possession.

When I got home, I logged into Grindr and proceeded with my own homosexual worship of paying homage to gay men, gay conversations and possible gay hookups.

When my mother came home from church, I quickly distracted her from her annoyance at my leaving church when I did, and soon, she was regaling me with stories of what happened in my absence. At some point during her gist, my phone vibrated. I picked it up and saw that it was a message from a newly opened account on Grindr. I ignored it. The phone vibrated again. It was another message from the same account. This time, I responded. The guy on the other end was apparently very horny because he went straight to the point, stating that he was lodged in a hotel (one which I recognised was close to my house) and was in need of a quick shag.

Since my area is not known for kito, I didn’t hesitate much. I told him I’d be right over, and since it was evening already, I clarified that I wouldn’t be spending the night with him. He agreed. I was in the shower, washing up to go out for the hookup, when I remembered that we hadn’t even exchanged pictures. So, when I was done, I asked him for a photo exchange. He responded with some reluctance, and I wasted no time in telling him, “No picture, no shag.” I also warned him not to catfish me.

He said okay and sent a picture.

When I saw it, I let out a deep sigh as the words of this man came to me instantly:

The Holy Spirit is speaking to me to tell you (homosexual) to drop that act.

Dark complexioned. Nerdy look. Salt-and-pepper beard.

I sighed again as I proceeded to block him.

Written by Dillish

Previous Queer Twitter reacts to Tweet about Gay Men and Heteronormativity

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  1. King
    April 28, 10:38 Reply

    So the priest is also gay. I never saw that coming. One MOG said that any sin that Preachers keep reiterating on happens to be the same sin they’re part of.

    • blue dagger
      April 28, 11:09 Reply

      I totally agree with you. That is how one very popular pastor whom I have had several video sessions with and had stopped talking to me because I refused to show up for a shag the 2x he came visiting the UK. Cut long story short, I watched a live service of him binding the spirit of homosexuality and in my heart I just couldn’t help but wonder if it was his own demons he was binding

      • Pink Panther
        April 28, 11:20 Reply

        Lol. The ending part of your comment is interesting. One has to wonder who exactly these down-low pastors who attack homosexuality from their pulpit are truly addressing. Is that sermon for their congregation? Or are they in actual fact self-inflicting the harm? Are their homophobic sermons some sort of psychological equivalent of self-harm?

  2. aequle
    April 28, 14:38 Reply

    i saw it coming, believe me i was not shocked by the ending.
    that’s how it is, it’s always the pastors that make homosexuality their main focus that are gay, it isn’t a new story.
    i am glad you blocked him after seeing his picture because those pastors ARE very toxic.

  3. bamidele
    April 28, 19:49 Reply

    I am not surprised about this story at all. Theoretically, most people speak against something they are battling with. I have seen several examples . The elites, politicians, pastors, imams etc. practise this … Yet they will be the first to demonise the act and even cast a stone against any suspected gays. They made the anti gay law and they…

  4. Delphine
    April 28, 20:02 Reply

    No one has the monopoly of visions or speaking with the Holy Spirit. I would have gone to see him, with backup plans though, and I’d have told him what the Holy Spirit said about hypocrites. I feel there would have been more satisfaction, having put him in check.

    • trystham
      April 28, 20:57 Reply

      Same. Or at least lashed him there and then and proceed to calling the other four gay guys u know in that service. It probably wouldn’t faze them, but it’d be something to talk about for a while

  5. Lyon
    April 29, 11:09 Reply

    I saw that coming sha…

    I’m Catholic, an insider at that

    I just knew that the priest had to be gay.

    But that’s the bullshit we see everyday.

  6. Loki
    April 30, 18:53 Reply

    Hmmm, reading your comments makes me realize how evil i can be. Cause honestly if it were me, i’d go over and make sure i get credible blackmail material( for documentative purpose of course 🤪😋) which i am going to cash in when i need.
    Dat opportunity was too good to let slide

  7. Oba of Benin
    May 01, 18:00 Reply

    used to have one Reverend Father… told me on a day that he was done with the act and as such new life in christ only for me to find out he was rimming a friend of mine

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