I spent several years in a boarding school run by American, Australian and New Zealand Baptists and assorted players who conspired to make life a miserable experience best served by death. I survived that, and probably in reaction, became a photographer of models (I'd originally written a model photographer, but modesty made me change that) for which, perversely, I suppose I owe them a debt of gratitude. Or not. My own soul is in harmony with my own interpretation of my Creator who'd most likely pass amongst those people unrecognized.
I doubt that anyone needs look outwith the further reaches of Christianity to find madness. A pity that some take the good from something and pervert it into a horror show. Whatever became of God is Love?
P.S. Patrick Demarchelier and Janet Jackson did it better!