Thursday, 14 April 2016

My Letter To The Archdiocese Of Sydney

I don't know if you're reading this, Archbishop Fisher and Archdiocese Manager Michael Bigges, but you should count yourselves thankful I am not on the board at Telstra.  Now, I am not going to castigate Telstra for allowing use of its logo in support of same sex marriage; I am indifferent to this, although anybody who knows me knows I fully support same sex marriage and LGBTI rights.  Deep down I guess I am glad their support is implicit.  Maybe corporations should stay out of political matters, who knows?  But this is a matter of human rights and equality.

It would appear that Bigges has sent a letter to Telstra, who have the contract for the Catholic schools' telecommunication matters, referencing his 'grave concern' about Telstra's apparent support for marriage equality.  Just like Telstra's support of same sex marriage is implicit, so too was the threat to withdraw custom implicit in the letter.

This is filthy manipulative blackmail.  How much power do those boofheads in the Church wield, exactly? I can understand if Telstra wants to keep a client, after all, they are business.  But this grubby behaviour makes my blood boil.  What are you going to do, sign up with Optus?  They're apparently pretty vocal in the support of LGBTI rights, too.  I kind of hope they DO sign up with Optus because the coverage where I live is shit, and pretty much everyone around here is with Telstra.  The Catholic schools here will go berko with frustration.

But yeah, I'm an author cum nurse's aide, not in charge at Telstra.  But I've been wondering how I would reply to Mr Bigges, and also to His Grace.  It would go something like this:

Dear Mr Bigges,

Thank you for your letter expressing your concerns about our support of human rights and equality.  We are humbled by the all-powerful Archdiocese of Sydney taking the time to put pen to paper.

It is extraordinary that you have the time to worry about the rights of adults who wish to commit to each other in a legal ceremony, given how much time you must expend worrying about people who were sexually abused by the clergy to whose care they had been entrusted.  These children have grown into very damaged adults, some of whom have self-harmed.  Therefore, we are grateful that you are turning your attention to our apparent support of a human rights issue.

That a tax-exempt organisation run by a clique of superstitious men in dresses would take time from their busy schedule to coerce us brings a tear to the eye.  However, we are at a loss as to why it is a concern of the Church.  Please advise whether your metaphysical invisible friend who lives in the sky told you to pressure us thus.

Perhaps it was your senior member Cardinal Pell who has issued the directive.  Did he send an email from the Vatican, where he is holed up sick?  We are assuming his email account is with a Telstra ISP.  Is it something like smellypelly@bigpond.com?

We take the opportunity to point out the Church does not have the stranglehold it did back in the 1950s.  We have evolved.  We now recognise human rights, and would respectfully suggest the Church worry about the welfare of the children violated by its clergy.

You are therefore cordially invited to go eat a dick (and not one attached to an altar boy).

Yours,
etc etc etc

cc. His Grace Archbishop Fisher

How does that sound, folks?  Truly, I am considering not having my young one do his sacraments, such is my disgust with the Church.  That a woman of my apparent cynicism would consider having her son undergo the sacraments does seem strange, but if you were raised Catholic in the Seventies and Eighties, you'd kind of get it.  Also, my oldest son has done his sacraments, and if the other doesn't, well, there's fodder for them to use against the other in their incessant petty squabbling.  Anybody who has children would probably get what I'm saying.  Or maybe I will take a stand, and not have my kid undergo the ritual.  I recall accompanying my oldest to instruction, and the parish priest was explaining to the children the type of transgressions that could be confessed.  'Maybe you've told a dirty joke?' suggested the sky pilot (which was what my father called clergymen).  At the notion telling dirty jokes is a sin that qualifies for confession, I stiffened and gulped; I realised then and there where I'm going straight after my demise (put it this way: I'd better back a fire retardant all-in-one suit like stunt men wear in movies).

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