"I've faith that there's a soul whose leading me around." - Ben Folds, "Evaporated"

"Every step I took in faith betrayed me." - Sarah McLachlan, "Sweet Surrender"

"So do you just hate church?" Rachel asked me during a recent all-night phone conversation. "No," I said, before admitting that I only got up every Sunday morning to avoid another fight with my parents. "I'm just tired of going through the motions. It doesn't mean anything anymore."

I knew when I walked out of church today that I wouldn't be going back for a long time. I have been fighting a losing battle these past few years of Sundays, trying to reconcile my faith with my sexuality. I have found that, despite arguments to the contrary, these two intrinsic parts of me are mutually exclusive.

I spent some time this past year debating religion with Pious Boy, who would always counter my arguments with scripture references. There's the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, which I do believe was about the sin of hospitality, not the evil of homosexuality. A handful of verses in Leviticus are part of the now-obsolete Holiness Code (which also forbids wearing garments made of more than one material, eating raw meat, and tattoos). The verses we never could seem to get past are written by Paul in the New Testament.

Paul straight up says that homosexuality is wrong and that all gay people will burn in hell. This has been refuted, too. The most popular argument is that Paul was against all sexuality, gay or straight, and as such he was a sort of anti-sex Nazi. I won't say I haven't argued it, but I won't say I completely buy it either. After all, if we're going to start picking and choosing what portions of scripture apply to us, what's to stop murderers from stabbing with impunity? The Bible is not a Chinese food menu.

Bookstores are full of tomes about what it means to be gay and Christian. They are also full of volumes on the evils of homosexuality from a religious standpoint. We welcome gay Christians, says the Metropolitan Community Church. We welcome gay Christians and hope to help them see the evil of their sexuality, says the Southern Baptist Convention. The contradictions are everywhere.

Thus, my dilemma. Fact: I am gay. I cannot change the fact that I am sexually attracted to men. They are hot. Fact: According to the Bible, God's holy Word and the basis for the past eighteen years of my spiritual instruction, this means I have a one-way coach ticket to hell. No matter how good I am, no matter how diligently I follow all God's other teachings, regardless of the fact that I accepted Jesus as my savior, I'll be spending eternity with Saddam listening to Hanson at Satan's neverending house party.

Try to suspend your disbelief when I say that this is a somewhat grim afterlife prospect. However, no law (yet) says that I have to accept the Bible and its teachings. If the church's official position is "follow us or go to hell," maybe I don't need to be turning to the church for answers.

Last night, Daphne G's friend from work asked what religious denomination I was. "Lutheran," I replied. "But only for one more day." Which brings us to the present, and me walking out the double doors one final time. For now, I am a religious nomad. I have no doctrines to call my own, no sacraments in which to indulge. As one state of limbo comes to an end with my return to school, another begins as I find myself between deities.

I could spend some time studying the major world religions and try to find the one that fits me best. I could start my own religion, which would come in handy if I ever needed a religious excuse from some unpleasant activity. Or I could just declare it all a scam (which is what I secretly suspect it is) and become an atheist.

I'm not saying I'll never step foot in a church again. Rachel, Pious Boy, and Daphne G's friend from work, you can all rest assured that I'll be back on Christmas Eve. The midnight service is its own kind of magic, and I don't need a current church membership to appreciate it. The thing is, I'm kind of a sucker for the music. Until further notice, however, I'm officially agnostic.

Someone got here by searching for: hate pamie steve Reading: I swear, Katie, I'm going to read The Bad Place. Listening to: Techno dance remixes, which totally rule. Club? What are you talking about? Watching: I taped the backwards episode of Seinfeld the other day (Elaine goes to India and breaks up a wedding) and rewatched it forwards. There was a lot of rewinding.