God Is a Bottom and the Vatican Is His Closet

Inside the queerest institution on earth (that still calls it a sin).

You know what’s mad? That I even have to say this out loud—but fine, I’ll take the hit. The Catholic Church loves controlling women. Loves it. Froths at the mouth for it. If patriarchy were a wine, they’d be swirling it in a gold chalice, muttering: “Hints of slut-shaming and a crisp note of womb surveillance.” It’s not even subtle. It’s a centuries-long obsession dressed up in incense and doctrine.

But here’s where it gets weird. The Vatican? Is basically a full-time, tax-exempt gay club in denial. I said what I said. And no, this isn’t some lazy anti-religion jab. It’s me, squinting at an empire draped in fourteen layers of hand-embroidered silk, spinning incense like they’re auditioning for Cirque du Soleil, and thinking… so when are we doing poppers and Madonna karaoke?

It’s not blasphemy. It’s just observation. A place that bans same-sex love and female priests is also out here giving RuPaul’s Drag Mass every Sunday at 11. The hats? Vivienne Westwood-core. The secrets? Centuries of repression. It’s the kind of theatrical, closeted contradiction that would be funny if it weren’t actively fuelling harm.

The hypocrisy? Divine.

The drama? Liturgical.

The cassocks? Hiding a disco ball, three emotional crises, and a very real obsession with Ancient Greek statues.

Amen.

Closets, Crosses, and “Particular Friendships”

(Or: the original soft boy summer, sponsored by Saint Augustine)

Let’s be honest—the early Church was not the anti-gay institution it later pretended to be. In fact, it was giving… a little fruity. Monastic life wasn’t just about prayer and reflection. It was about deep, emotional, borderline-poetic intimacy between men living in isolation, washing each other’s feet, and writing letters that read like gay fanfic illuminated by candlelight. If you’ve ever read a priest’s diary from the 12th century—sorry, but they were pining harder than anyone in a Taylor Swift bridge.

These relationships were so common they even had a name: “particular friendships.” Not just besties. Not just brothers in Christ. Particular. They prayed together. Lived together. Slept beside each other. Sometimes, they were even buried side by side. And no one batted a bejewelled eyelid. If that’s not a medieval soft launch, I don’t know what is.

According to historian John Boswell, early Christianity was surprisingly chill about homosexuality—until, that is, the Church merged with the Roman Empire. Suddenly, it couldn’t keep acting like a gay poetry club and had to start performing like a state-backed institution. And that meant one thing: optics.

Here’s the breakdown:

• Christianity went from outsider cult → state-sanctioned religion under Constantine (313 AD).

• To look respectable to Roman elites, it had to distance itself from anything "pagan" or "decadent"—which included emotional male intimacy and gender nonconformity.

• Paganism = sexually fluid, ecstatically expressive, and goddess-friendly.

• So the Church pivoted: out with the softness, in with the suppression.

• Homophobia wasn’t holy. It was a PR move. A Vatican rebrand.

• They couldn’t be the gayest institution on earth and the face of imperial morality. (Even though… they still were.)

And that’s the most blasphemously honest truth of it all: the Church didn’t begin persecuting queer people because of God. It did it for politics, reputation, and imperial image control. Which means modern homophobia from the pulpit isn’t about sin; it’s about spin.

The Closet Is Basically Canon

You know what’s holier than thou? Lifelong, weaponised internal repression. And the Catholic Church didn’t just endorse it—they practically built an empire on it. Seminaries weren’t just places to train priests; they were lowkey sanctuaries for men who didn’t want to get married (to women) and needed a socially acceptable reason to avoid the whole “wife and kids” narrative.

“I’m not single. I’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”
Translation: I’m gay, scared, and hiding in a cassock, but with flair.

And honestly? It worked. For centuries. Because celibacy is the ultimate beard. It’s not a vow of heterosexuality—it’s a cloaked permission slip to never explain why you’ve never dated a woman, kissed a woman, or looked at a woman for longer than 0.2 seconds.

Enter Frédéric Martel’s 600+ page exposé, In the Closet of the Vatican, which blew the incense-smoked doors wide open. Martel interviewed dozens of insiders and high-ranking officials, confirming what the gays already knew: there is an enormous, silent network of closeted gay men within the Church (especially inside the Vatican.)

• There is an enormous network of closeted gay men within the Church, especially inside the Vatican.

• Many use Grindr. (Imagine getting a “🙏” emoji from a cardinal. I’m unwell.)

• Some have secret long-term partners, even while publicly preaching celibacy.

• Everyone knows. No one talks. It’s like the Vatican runs on espresso, denial, and discreet glances over confession booths.

Even more damning, Martel discovered a statistical pattern: the more publicly anti-gay a priest or bishop is, the more likely he’s deeply in the closet. It’s giving homophobia as foreplay. The priesthood has more closet space than the entire Zara stockroom during Pride Month.

And yet, we’re expected to pretend this is about morality?

No, babes. It’s about optics. Fear. And centuries of tightly controlled queerness hiding in plain sight—wearing robes, wielding incense, and telling women how to behave in bed.

Hyper-Masculine Misogyny ≠ Heterosexuality

Let’s make something crystal clear: controlling women is not the same as loving them.

The Church’s obsession with modesty, chastity, and who’s allowed to have an orgasm has never been about holiness. It’s about dominance. These rules weren’t written by men who adored women. They were written by men who’ve literally never touched a woman outside of baptism.

And honestly? It shows.

You cannot convince me that the same men who excommunicate nuns, block abortion rights, and treat Mary Magdalene like a cautionary tale have ever experienced emotional intimacy with a woman. Most of them haven’t even made eye contact with one since 1342.

Because here’s the truth no one wants to say out loud:

You don’t have to be straight to hate women.

You just have to benefit from a system that keeps them beneath you. And patriarchy? Oh, it’s an equal-opportunity employer. Gay, straight, celibate, closeted… it doesn’t matter. As long as you’re willing to uphold the structure, you’re in the club.

The Vatican’s Drag Vibes

If you’ve ever watched a cardinal glide down the nave in full crimson, gold-threaded regalia and thought, hmm, this feels familiar… that’s because it is. The Vatican isn’t just religious; it’s serving liturgical runway realness. The mitres? Giving haute couture traffic cone. The robes? Silk, lace, embroidery so fine it would make Alexander McQueen resurrect himself just to cry.

And that’s just the weekday look.

Let’s be honest: this isn’t holy austerity. This is Catholicism: Autumn/Winter collection. The processionals have full choreo. The incense? Aromatic stage fog. The bells? Mood lighting for the ears. And don’t even get me started on the accessories. Who else wears a literal bejewelled gold chalice ring and calls it humility?

“It’s not a costume. It’s tradition!”
Okay babe, and RuPaul’s wig reveals are sacred ritual too.

And yet somehow, the Church has the audacity to call queerness “unnatural”?

Be. For. Fucking. Real.

Because nothing (and I mean nothing) says “straight culture” like a man in twelve layers of embroidered silk, clutching a gold sceptre, emerging from behind a curtain in a cloud of perfumed smoke while a choir sings in Latin.

It’s not just camp.

It’s Vatican Vogue.

Hypocrisy Is Holy Doctrine

Control the narrative. Rewrite the sin. Protect the priest… not the child. That’s the real gospel, isn’t it?

Let’s not pretend. The Church will excommunicate a woman for daring to get ordained, but quietly relocate a priest after he abuses children. Not once. Not twice. But in thousands of documented cases. See: the global sex abuse crisis—including but not limited to Ireland, the U.S., France, Australia, and literally anywhere the Vatican has jurisdiction and a good broom for sweeping things under the rug.

They’ll cover up child rape with one hand and condemn gay love with the other—and somehow still call it moral clarity.

Meanwhile:

• Nuns are silenced for demanding justice (see: the LCWR investigation).

• Women still can’t be priests (because apparently having a womb disqualifies you from preaching love).

• Reproductive rights? Laughed out of the cathedral faster than you can say “papal infallibility.”

But don’t worry… the closets inside the Vatican are packed tighter than communion wine at Easter.

Frédéric Martel’s In the Closet of the Vatican reveals that up to 80% of Vatican clergy are gay. Not allegedly. Not speculatively. Documented. And yet queer love? Still labelled a “mortal sin.” (Unless you’re doing it secretly behind a holy water font, apparently.)

Because that’s the real scandal. Not that there are gay clergy, but that the institution is obsessed with punishing authenticity while protecting rot. Publicly, they preach virtue. Privately? They protect predators, bury evidence, and call it grace. They weaponise guilt. They sanctify shame.

Eve eats fruit—eternal damnation.
Peter denies Jesus three times—gets a Basilica named after him.

Tell me how that makes sense.

The double standards aren’t just holy. They’re practically enshrined in stained glass.

The Holy Ghost Is Side-Eyeing All of You

Let’s call it what it is: this isn’t about religion. It’s about the Vatican—that glittering paradox of lace, incense, and centuries-deep repression—clutching its pearls at queerness while swanning around in outfits that would get a standing ovation at the Met Gala.

The Church doesn’t fear queerness because it’s unholy. It fears it because it can’t control it. And that’s the sin they really care about. They’ve silenced nuns. Banned women from priesthood. Covered up systemic abuse. All while closets behind Vatican walls burst at the seams. The real scandal was never gay clergy. It’s that authenticity is punished—while rot gets promoted.

The Vatican isn’t just a seat of power.

It’s a cathedral of contradiction.

And at this point?

Even the Holy Spirit is side-eyeing the hypocrisy.

NOTE 1: I don’t hate religion. I hate the patriarchy hiding behind it. Why can’t we just love without repression, exist without control, and live without being punished for it? We’re all suffering—but some are too busy upholding the system to notice they’re trapped in it too.

NOTE 2: For anyone wanting to explore the actual history behind this piece, here are some sources worth your time. I’ve done my reading. You can too:

• Frédéric Martel, In the Closet of the Vatican – A landmark investigation into the closeted lives of high-ranking Vatican officials, based on over 1,500 interviews.

• John Boswell, Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality – A groundbreaking academic text exploring the early Church’s attitudes toward homosexuality before it merged with the Roman Empire.

• Martel interview in The Guardian (2019) – "The Vatican is one of the biggest gay communities in the world"

• PBS Frontline: Secrets of the Vatican – A documentary exploring internal corruption, abuse cover-ups, and institutional denial.

• NCR, The Vatican’s LCWR crackdown – Coverage on the Vatican’s investigation into U.S. nuns demanding justice and equality.

• The Ferns Report (Ireland), The Spotlight Investigation (Boston), and The Royal Commission (Australia) – All publicly document the Catholic Church’s global mishandling of sexual abuse cases.

I won’t be interacting with hate comments, religious dogma spam, or anyone who reads this in bad faith. If this made you uncomfortable, maybe ask why… and then take it up with the institution, not the messenger.