Chapter 3. Grape Juice
(receipt down below)
Despite no one in my church having ever seen heaven, outside the descriptions in the bible, it was important to me as a kid to make it there because I believed that my whole family would be there.
Both my parents would be there. I knew my older siblings would be there. And if the world ended all of a sudden my younger siblings were babies so they’d automatically go. But me? Based on what I was learning from the adults around me and in Sunday school I felt like something was wrong with me, and that thing was going to keep me out of heaven if I didn’t do everything in my power to get rid of it.
Being brought up in a Pentecostal church, I knew about communion at a very early age, and understood it in the best way a child could understand communion. It was about eating the flesh and blood of Christ via little crackers and grape juice, all of which kid-Maya translated as a means of cleansing oneself of anything deemed sinful. Whether the sin was being a divorcée, stealing, or feelings of attraction to people you weren’t supposed to be attracted to. Rituals such as communion seemed to operate as a sort of soap, something you needed to participate in regularly to get rid of the dirt of being human.
However, my recollection was that you had to have been baptized and filled with the holy spirit to participate in communion at our church. Having done neither of those I made it my mission to
Get baptized.
Get the holy spirit and speak in tongues.
Push down any feelings towards anyone I liked in Sunday school as frequently as necessary.
While I wouldn’t say that I had a sexuality or knew what a sexuality was when I was elementary school aged, I certainly knew that sexual activity and gender existed thanks to the likes of Disney and other forms of media that seem neutral but aren’t. And I felt a deep pit in my stomach that my feelings were not in complete alignment with the behaviors I was observing around me and on TV.
In fact, I knew that some people’s sexual activities and gender provoked good reactions from the adults around me, while others provoked not just bad, but repulsed reactions from the adults around me. To make things more confusing, even though sexual activity of any kind seemed to be discouraged in real life, sex was everywhere in the bible, thus providing more examples of what was acceptable.
With bible stories ranging from Ruth and Boaz “spending the night” on the threshing floor (Ruth 3), to Jael using her sexual prowess to take out an entire militia (Judges 4), to Lot’s daughters repopulating the city by drugging and sleeping with him (Genesis 19:30-36). These were all stories I read during bible study and Sunday school as a child. Even with the medieval use of Kings James Version language, a 6-9 year old can put two and two together alongside people’s reactions to understand that heterosexual behaviors, bizarre as they could be, were the socially acceptable standard and that anything outside of that was to be scorned.
I didn’t realize I was taking in all this information as a kid, but it was definitely slowly shaping an inner conflict of my authentic self versus the one I thought I needed to perform in order to make it to heaven. So for years I’d try to scrub myself with Christian practices, and getting baptized was the first on my list. However, after confessing my dedication to Christ and being submerged in the water, I left feeling more of the same, it then became my mission to do everything I could to get the holy spirit. . .
When I was about thirteen or so I’d have a dream about the end of the world where someone launched me into outer space right before an apocalyptic explosion of the earth, and as I floated into the deepness of space a calm came over me as I spoke in tongues. I took this as a sign that I was finally filled with the holy spirit and consulted my parents who confirmed this to be true. I’ve never been able to speak in tongues in real life like some people I’ve seen and heard do so, but it's one of the languages I’ve spoken and heard in my dreams since then. These days I call the holy spirit and its language my intuition. Either way though, my sexuality and gender remained the same despite my thinking that baptism and holy spirit would cure me.
I almost immediately stopped thinking that my sexuality was a disease that needed to be cured when I left home at eighteen. A sort of proxy for my parents, teenagers and young adults in the LGBTQ+ community would take up the mantle of ushering me into adulthood in NYC. That was when I began to wake up to the fact that I’d been in a religious bubble, because my internalized “phobias” would get immediately checked by them. They were the ones who often read me as “bougie” or “too quiet” but still made sure I was safe and taken care of. They were the ones who I began to realize I needed to protect too.
Unfortunately thanks to my experience with religion, cognitive dissonance is a major thing in my life, especially when it comes to sexuality. For example, with the combination of investing in a radical political education for myself and committing to therapy over the past few years, I’m certainly cognizant of the fact that a gender/sexuality that deviates from the socially acceptable norm is not a sin, if sins even exist. If they do exist, I think that actual sinful behaviors have often come from people indoctrinated with the belief that LGBTQ+ people are immoral. However, even with knowing all of this, I still have tons of shame and self-hate from years of religious conditioning that needs to get worked through. Because, while I’ll fully embrace my LGBTQ+/queer friends for all that they are, I don’t reflect that for myself.
With the annual onset of Pride month, I can’t say that my sexuality is something I’m very proud of, yet, especially since it is one that is hardly accepted in the LGBTQ+/Queer community, much less understood by straight people. But, each year I read a little more Dean Spade and Audre Lorde, and each year I unpack a little more of the religious conditioning of my childhood. Keeping the parts that soothe me and discarding the parts that have caused some serious damage to my psyche. And each year I learn another reason or two to embrace my sexuality with whatever volume I so choose.
If there is a God, I know that deity has embraced every inch of me since the day I took my first breath, grape juice and crackers with the holy spirit or not. I just hope that before I take my last breath I’ll actually believe that in my bones and embrace it in the depths of my heart.
The Receipt - Indulgent Grape Juice
Yield: 1 quart grape juice
Ingredients:
4 pounds Concord Grapes (You can find concord grapes in the supermarket, but I thought it was easier to find them at the farmers market around the end of September, which is their season here in NY.)
Seltzer or Sparkling Water (Optional: This juice is really concentrated, so if it’s too sweet for you, you can also serve it with seltzer water. My sweet tooth can’t stop won’t stop so I don’t dilute it.)
Step to it:
Remove grapes from their stems and wash and clean thoroughly in a colander. Discarding any shriveled or nibbled on ones into a compost bowl.
Place grapes in a large bowl and smash with a smasher, slotted spoon, or fork.
Transfer smashed grapes to a stock pot over medium heat and bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer and allow to cook for 10-15 minutes just to break the grapes down and kill any bacteria.
While grapes are simmering, prepare another deep pot with a sieve lined with cheesecloth (layered about 4 times). Tie cheesecloth edges around pot with string or a rubber band.
Slowly ladle smashed grapes into cheesecloth and push juice through using a spatula. If you allow the grapes to cool you can pick the whole cheesecloth up, twist it, and squeeze the juice out.
Once all of your juice is extracted, allow juice to chill in the fridge, then serve over ice.
