Apr 192015

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As a recovering Catholic and a lesbian born in Ireland, I think I can have a comment about the upcoming referendum.  Growing up, I found inspiration and a sense of belonging in the Roman Catholic Church.  However, at that time, I was unaware of the priest rapes of young boys and girls.  There were no comments that I heard about homosexuality.  Enter the 21st century and the RC Church became my enemy.  There is a chance that it can be saved, if only it would live the non-judgmental words and life of Jesus.  I constantly blog and comment about the Story of the Good Samaritan, where the most despised in the hero over the priests.   I live happily married to Trish in Canada, but I will fight for equality on a global scale.


Ireland is going to a referendum on May 22, 2015 to vote for or against Marriage Equality.  The RC church needs to butt out of the discussion.  There is a sordid history of discrimination and judgment in the past as exemplified in Joni Mitchell’s lyrics of the Magdalene Laundries.  (Let me add, that of course, there were nuns who exemplified Christ in these institutions and good priests who spent their lives serving others).  It is the negative power of the Vatican that I rebel against.  paula.



The Magdalena Laundries by Joni Mitchell.

I was an unmarried girl
I’d just turned twenty-seven
When they sent me to the sisters
For the way men looked at me
Branded as a jezebel
I knew I was not bound for Heaven
I’d be cast in shame

Into the Magdalene laundries

Most girls come here pregnant
Some by their own father
Bridget got that belly
By her parish priest
We’re trying to get things white as snow
All of us woe-begotten-daughters
In the steaming stains
Of the Magdalene laundries

Prostitutes and destitutes
And temptresses like me–
Fallen women–
Sentenced into dreamless drudgery …
Why do they call this heartless place
Our Lady of Charity?
Oh charity!

These bloodless brides of Jesus
If they had just once glimpsed their groom
Then they’d know, and they’d drop the stones
Concealed behind their rosaries
They wilt the grass they walk upon
They leech the light out of a room
They’d like to drive us down the drain
At the Magdalene laundries

Peg O’Connell died today
She was a cheeky girl
A flirt
They just stuffed her in a hole!
Surely to God you’d think at least some bells should ring!
One day I’m going to die here too
And they’ll plant me in the dirt
Like some lame bulb
That never blooms come any spring
Not any spring
No, not any spring
Not any spring


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