When in Rome IV…

Today we visited the Church of Saint Peter and the Vatican and in a churlish display of anti-religious fervour that would impress most moody 14-year-olds I sported my Sisters of Mercy T-shirt with the pentagram.

As we arrived at the church the Pope was giving an audience and this was quite bizarre because he’d namecheck a church or charity then a section of the crowd would cheer, then he’d go on and namecheck somebody else and another section of the crowd would cheer. It was a rock concert with no music or charisma.

The Vatican Museum, however, was quite impressive with loads of Egyptian and Roman artefacts but as soon as this section was over we went into piety overdrive. Gallery after gallery of scenes of Christ’s suffering and penance in various forms from painting to sculpture to tapestry… I felt quite assaulted by the relentless imagery and how it was designed to pummel me into a submission of faith.

It was about this point that I wanted to let rip with a tirade on the evils of a religion designed to keep the poor in their place and educate them to accept injustices in this lifetime for the promise of something better in the next, and how anyone who was dumb enough to believe should simply wake up – or better still leave the planet and give the rest of the gene pool a fighting chance of survival…

Then I realised I was being a tad zealous myself. I just have to accept that I have no religious fervour of any description after dabbling with it as a 13-year-old – but I do believe in acceptance and forgiveness and tolerance. I also try to live and let live and I genuinely strive to love all the people (even politicians, irresponsible journalists, religious zealots, evil media barons and Ross Kemp) all of the time.

But sometimes it’s really difficult…

PS. A fellow Goth did spot my T-shirt and commented to his girlfriend ‘That’s beautiful that is…’ God bless you my friend.

PPS. See the irony of the above comment? See... It’s sometimes hard to adjust…