Some words for Christians on both sides of the Chick-fil-A war

Just some thoughts from a retired veteran of the culture wars—

To Christians speaking out against Chick-fil-A:  

I understand. I too believe marriage is a civil right in this country, and I too get frustrated when Christians appeal to their faith  to withhold this right from their neighbors. I too am tired of selective appeals to “biblical marriage” that tend to glorify the modern nuclear family as the only ideal and render real people with real lives into a mere political/religious “issue,” and I too am reluctant to support an establishment that sends part of its profits to the Family Research Council, an organization that has fed blatant misinformation about homosexuality to Christians for years. I am especially sorry to my LGBT friends who have been bullied in the name of Christ—many of you as Christians  yourself—and I long for the Church to become a more welcoming home to all who want to follow Jesus, regardless of race, gender, socio-economic status, or sexual orientation. You have every right to be tired of being treated as a second-class citizen.

I get it. I really do.

 But I beg you to please remember that not all Christians who speak out against gay marriage are bigots or homophobes, and calling them those names is as unjust as it is unkind. Many of the people I love most in my life fall into this “camp,” and most of them mean it when they say that they sincerely love their friends and relatives in the LGBT community and wish they knew of some way to hold to their convictions without hurting or insulting their neighbors.  

With this in mind, please make your boycott a peaceful and respectful one by simply staying away from Chick-fil-A restaurants or protesting outside of them. I am distressed by plans floating around the internet that encourage folks to demand free food or water from Chick-fil-A restaurants on August 1 or to show up to restaurants in drag.  Plans like these end up affecting restaurant employees more than anyone, and none of this is their fault. In addition, they tend to perpetuate misinformation and stereotypes about the so-called “gay lifestyle.” As one gay man I know put it: “I’ve never dressed in drag in my life! This doesn’t represent me.”  In the past, I’ve bemoaned the tendency for some Christians to confront store clerks during Christmastime, demanding that they play religious Christmas music over the PA and say “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Holidays.” That sort of behavior is petty and unbecoming, so let’s not engage in it. 

Also, we should all be concerned with calls from some city leaders to deny Chick-fil-A building permits, as these raise serious constitutional concerns. As representatives from the ACLU have pointed out, if a government can exclude a business for being against same-sex marriage, it could just as well exclude a business for being in support of same-sex marriage. I live near Murfreesboro, Tennessee, where some government officials tried to use this same strategy to ban the building of a mosque in the area, and I spoke out against such a blatant infringement on religious liberty. If Chick-fil-A discriminates based on race, gender, or sexual orientation, then they should be subject to government intervention, but a government cannot and should not punish someone for free speech. Celebrating the withholding of building permits is not only constitutionally problematic, it’s also bad strategy. It perpetuates the fear among many conservative Christians that part of the so-called “gay agenda” involves restricting free speech and persecuting Christians. This will only further entrench the “us vs. them” mentality and break down any potential the sort of meaningful, constructive dialog that actually leads to change. 

Finally, having grown up in the evangelical subculture where boycott is something of a sport, take it from me: boycotts often backfire. Already Mike Huckabee has called conservative Christians to flood Chick-fil-A with their business, and I see many of my friends and neighbors responding enthusiastically.  Remember how you responded to the boycott against JC Penny over Ellen? (For me it was a super-cute floral top.) Well, the same thing is likely to happen in this case. Again, what concerns me the most in all of this is the drawing of unmovable lines between the Christian community and the LGBT community when these lines need not exist. As Christians, we should be working tirelessly to find common ground instead of drawing battle lines. 

In short, we can choose not to patronize Chick-fil-A  without 1) calling those who support Chick-fil-A bigots and homophobes, 2) making scenes that make life hell for Chick-fil-A employees, 3) promoting one civil right while trampling on another, or 4) focusing all our efforts on a boycott to the expense of more productive conversations and actions. 

 To Christians supporting Chick-fil-A:  

I understand.  It is frustrating and unfair be called a bigot and a homophobe just because you don’t support gay marriage, or worst yet, just because you enjoy the occasional waffle fry at Chick-fil-A.  (Mmmm....waffle fries.) Sometimes it seems like tolerance and understanding is extended to everyone except conservative Christians, and when some city governments threaten to deny building permits over an issue like this, you have to wonder where they will draw the line.  I’m sorry that you have been called names and that your motives have been questioned.  

I get it. I really do. 

But please remember, our allegiance is to Jesus Christ, not a restaurant.  Rallying behind Chick-fil-A at this time can come across as tribalistic, petty, and divisive. Please know that when you post a picture of yourself defiantly holding a Chick-fil-A bag on Facebook, it may send a hurtful message to your LGBT friends who—fair or not—have come to associate Chick-fil-A with anti-gay organizations and anti-gay remarks.  There are better causes than "Chick-fil-A Appreciation Day" around which Christians can rally. (Feeding the hungry perhaps?) There is no need to cause unnecessary offense to folks who have already been so ostracized by the Church, no need to wave a red and white banner through yet another culture war.  If you really want to love your gay friends and neighbors, shoving Chick-fil-A bags in their faces right now is just not the way to do it. 

Second, please don’t cry “persecution!” As unfair as this boycott may seem, calling it religious persecution is insulting to the blood-stained history of the church and to the many Christian men and women who suffer very real persecution in the world today. (Keep in mind too that LGBT folks are often subjected to bullying, violence, and hate. ) We should all be grateful to live in a country where free speech is protected—whether it’s Dan Cathy’s comments on gay marriage or a protestor’s homemade sign—and we must be wary of victimizing ourselves over something like this lest we render the word “persecution” meaningless. 

Finally, I urge you to take a few moments to listen to the stories of gays and lesbians who have been negatively affected by the organizations that are supported by Chick-fil-A.  Last week, Alise Wright highlighted some of the problematic elements of Family Research Council in particular, which has been designated a hate group by the Southern Poverty Law Center and has consistently tried to link gays and lesbians to pedophiles. She concludes: “This is why I, and many others, choose not to patronize Chick-fil-A. Not because we disagree with the owner’s views on marriage equality. Not because we believe that denying marriage rights means that you hate those to whom you are denying those rights. Not because we believe that Dan Cathy’s statements constitute hate speech. But because Chick-fil-A has funded a hate group.” 

Conor Gaugham weighed in with a Huffington Post article explaining that protestors are not simply “arguing over chicken,” but over the 5 million in donations that Chick-fil-A—(the restaurant itself, not Cathy personally)—has sent to organizations that “fight to discriminate against [gays and lesbians].” 

“Eat all the chicken sandwiches you want,” he said. “But, realize that behind this debate are real people -- kids like the girl in Kentucky who fear for their safety, women like Sally Ride's widow who are denied their spouse's Social Security benefits.” 

Our friend Justin Lee jumped in yesterday and explained why Cathy’s words are hurtful to a gay Christian like himself and reminded us that just as folks who don’t support gay marriage as a civil right should not automatically be accused of homophobia and bigotry, so folks who do support gay marriage as a civil right should not automatically be accused of “pride,” “arrogance,” “inviting God’s judgment” and “shaking their fists at God.”

And today Alise warns against dismissing the concerns of Chick-fil-A protestors as silly or unimportant, reminding us that “for a lot of people, this is real injustice.”  

“...Up to 40% of all homeless youth identify as LGBT," she writes, "and of those, almost 80% left because their families rejected them when they came out...There are more than 1100 federal benefits denied to same-sex couples...LGBT youth are five times more likely to attempt suicide than their straight peers...That’s a real injustice.” 

Indeed it is, and I think evangelicals in particular tend to turn a blind eye to the ways in which some of these religiously-based organizations may be inadvertently contributing to these problems rather than helping  alleviate them.  Most of my gay friends have had interactions with one or two of these groups, and when they tell me their stories—of wanting to kill themselves after trying desperately to change their orientation, of feeling forced to keep their same-sex attraction a secret and date members of the opposite sex in hopes that marriage would “fix” them, of being compared to pedophiles, of being told they would suffer forever in hell for their orientation, of their parents being blamed for being “absent” or “controlling” when they weren’t and when there are absolutely no studies to suggest this makes children gay anyway, of watching gay friends get married and then divorced because they couldn’t keep up the charade, of thinking they deserved the bullying because God hates them too—it breaks my heart. 

I urge you to take a few moments to listen to people like Conor, Alise, and Justin so that you understand their perspective better, and I urge you to research the organizations funded by Chick-fill-A before jumping on Facebook to enthusiastically support them. Ask yourself - Is this a cause I really want the world to see Christians mobilizing around? Does this really advance the gospel and show the love of Christ?

So, in short, you can choose to patronize Chick-fil-A without 1) rubbing it in people’s faces, 2) crying persecution, and 3) closing your ears to the concerns of others, particularly those from the LGBT community.

In conclusion, we would all do well to remember that the genius of the culture wars is that they convince us we change the world through bumper stickers, boycotts, and ballot boxes. They mobilize us around insignificant "wins" that, in the long run, only make things worse. The truth is, this whole Chick-fil-A storm will probably blow over in a few weeks, and when we come out from our hiding place in the basement, I fear that the only thing that will have changed is the unnecessary divide between the Christian community and the gay community will have grown wider.  

And as much as we might like to, we can’t turn around and head back to the basement. 

As Christians—conservative and progressive, gay and straight, activists and slacktivists—we must direct our efforts instead toward bridging this divide, which is going to take a lot of hard work, a lot of disappointment, a lot of tears, a lot of compromise, a lot of honesty, a lot of mistakes, a lot of apologies, a lot of listening, a lot of forgiveness, a lot of meal sharing, a lot of gospel. 

In other words, it’s going to take a heck of a lot more effort than either eating or avoiding a chicken sandwich. 

***

For a group that’s doing good work to bridge the divide, I recommend the Gay Christian Network, which welcomes both conservative Christians and progressive Christians to the table for conversation. 

***

Closing the comment thread at 6 p.m. EST. Dialog has been mostly civil and constructive, but until I can get a team of moderators, it's too much for one girl to handle. Thanks for understanding!

Liberal Christianity, Conservative Christianity, and the Caught-In-Between

“Why is it that the choice among churches always seems to be 

the choice between intelligence on ice and ignorance on fire?” 
– Diana Butler Bass

“Give people a common enemy, and you will give them a common identity. 
Deprive them of an enemy and you will deprive them of the crutch by which they know who they are.” 
– James Alison

As you may have noticed, a flurry of articles and blog posts have materialized in the wake of the Episcopal Church USA General Convention, many asserting that the Episcopal Church’s declining numbers, and those of other Mainline Protestant churches, are direct result of their progressive policies. The most notable of these responses came from Ross Douthat of the New York Times who asked, “Can Liberal Christianity Be Saved?”

“Instead of attracting a younger, more open-minded demographic with these changes,” Douthat wrote, “the Episcopal Church’s dying has proceeded apace... Practically every denomination — Methodist, Lutheran, Presbyterian — that has tried to adapt itself to contemporary liberal values has seen an Episcopal-style plunge in church attendance. Within the Catholic Church, too, the most progressive-minded religious orders have often failed to generate the vocations necessary to sustain themselves."

Diana Butler Bass responded with an article entitled “Can Christianity be Saved?”  in which she reminds Douthat that conservative churches are also in decline. “In the last decade,” she writes, “as conservative denominations lost members, their leaders have not equated the loss with unfaithfulness. Instead, they refer to declines as demographic "blips," waning evangelism, or the impact of secular culture. Membership decline has no inherent theological meaning for either liberals or conservatives. Decline only means, as Gallup pointed out in a just-released survey, that Americans have lost confidence in all forms of institutional religion.  The real question is not 'Can liberal Christianity be saved?' The real question is:'Can Christianity be saved?' 

Both were thoughtful, relatively charitable articles, but I was disheartened to see my Facebook and Twitter feeds light up with gleeful jeers from conservative evangelicals essentially saying,“let the liberals die!” followed by defensive responses from more progressive Mainliners reminding them, “we may be dying but we’re taking you with us!”

 Missing from the whole dialog was any sense that we’re in this together, that, as followers of Jesus, we may need to put our heads together to re-imagine what it means to be the Church in a postmodern, American culture where confidence in organized religion is at an all-time low.

Meanwhile, I feel totally caught in between. 

For one thing, I don’t "fit" in the conservative evangelical church: 

I believe in evolution. 

I vote for democrats. 

I doubt. 

I enjoy interfaith dialog and cooperation. 

I like smells, bells, liturgy, and ritual—particularly when it comes to the Eucharist. 

I’m passionate about gender equality in marriage and church leadership. 

I’m tired of the culture wars. 

I want to become a better advocate for social justice. 

I want my LGBT friends to feel welcome and accepted in their own churches. 

I’m convinced that the Gospel is about more than “getting saved” from hell.

But I don’t "fit" in the progressive, Mainline church either.

I love a good Bible study. 

I think doctrine and theology are important enough to teach and debate. 

I think it’s vital that we talk about, and address, sin. 

I believe in the physical resurrection of Jesus.

I want to participate in interfaith dialog and cooperation while still maintaining a strong Christian identity. 

I want to engage in passionate worship, passionate justice, and passionate biblical study and application, passionate community. 

I’m totally down with a bit of spontaneous, group “popcorn” prayer, complete with hand-holding and references to the Holy Spirit “moving in this place.”  

I’m convinced that the Gospel is about more than being a good person. 

These objections represent generalizations, of course (and, it should be stated, this whole conversation is unique to Western—particularly American—Christianity). I know plenty of evangelicals who embrace the science of evolution, and I know plenty of mainliners who are passionate about both social justice and theology.  But the reason I struggle to go to church on Sunday mornings is because I generally feel like I have to choose between two non-negotiable “packages.” There are things I really love about evangelicalism and there are things I really love about progressive Protestantism, but because these two groups tend to forge their identities in reaction to one another— by the degree to which they are not like those “other Christians”—Sunday morning can feel an awful lot like an exercise in picking sides.  And often, when I find myself actually sitting in the pew, the pastor  or priest will at some point in the service, either subtly or overtly, speak of the “other side” as an enemy. 

Apparently I’m not alone. I asked on my Facebook page if you ever feel caught between “liberal” and “conservative” Christianity, and here’s what some of you said: 

• "I feel caught in the middle. I've always been unsure how much to trust all the theological conclusions of ‘liberal Christianity’ (but that's not to say that I doubt this demographic's sincere commitment to Christ). The thing that disappoints me about conservative Christianity is that you are often expected to accept your beliefs as a ‘package deal’ and you are seen as weird if you think differently on certain points. Also, the expectations of how women are supposed to conduct their lives within conservative Christianity is borderline stifling, even though I know many women who enjoy that lifestyle......I am just a fish out of water there, and so is my husband." – Reh

• "What disappoints me is the sense that either/both sides are close-minded. Even among the liberal ones who speak of openness and respect and listening to each other, there is palpable disdain for the conservative and evangelical opinions. (And I can say that since I am a member of probably the most liberal Christian denomination right now and have heard some of these comments.)" – Susan

• “I'm definitely in the middle, but wouldn't say I feel ‘caught’ there -- we've got a lot of company these days! Disappointed on the conservative side when I run into judgmentalism, legalism, and a fear of engaging with Scripture (and reality) in its full messy ambiguity. Disappointed on the liberal side when I run into smugness, reductionism, and embarrassment at the supernatural.”  -  Joel 

• “The disappointment, for me, lies within the existence of partisanship within these two ideologies. I believe it is the allowance of the ‘us vs. them’ mentality within these two factions that creates a continuum of animosity and a refusal to collaborate and compromise. Having a difference of opinion is one thing. But treating those differences as two opposing sports teams attempting to win the ‘game’ (sometimes at all costs) is detrimental to both sides.” – Josh 

• "I take the teachings of Jesus too seriously to be welcome among conservatives and take the rest of the Bible too seriously to be welcome among liberals. So rather than feeling caught between them, I feel like I'm alienated by both." - Mike

• “What disappoints me on both ends of the spectrum is the misplacement of importance on things other than Jesus. Jesus is what all of this is about, and whenever we make it about anything else, we are losing sight of the goal and the point.” – Amy 

• “YES! My understanding of the two may not be accurate, but from my understanding of what that means, I often feel in the middle. By my liberal friends I'm accused of being too conservative and by my conservative friends I'm painted a flaming liberal. I'm disappointed with conservative evangelicalism because they seem legalistic and fearful. So many opinions seem driven by fear. I'm disappointed with liberal Protestantism because of a tendency to reject the institution completely just because it's an institution and to "buck" tradition and authority...For me, I need to combine the best aspects of where Christianity is going with the best aspects of where it has been to find a faith that feels authentic to me and what I believe about God and His bride. Right now, it feels like a fight to prove who is right, with both sides going more extreme than finding a middle where we take the best of both and find a faith that will actually change the world.” – Carrie 

• "Neither have room for the idea that having all the answers might not be possible." – Corinne

Some of you confessed that, rather than accepting one Christian “package” or the other, you’ve simply bowed out of church altogether—unable to fit into either group. (I can certainly relate to this dilemma.) Multiple studies suggest that this is exactly what’s happening, as young adults in particular leave the Church in droves. I suspect that the liberal/conservative divide itself is a factor in these declining numbers, and yet the divide grows with every new disconcerting study as liberals and conservatives point at one another and yell, “It’s your fault!” 

Frankly, I find the whole conversation a bit depressing. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want either group to “meet its demise” because I love elements of both! In fact, I think there are a lot of progressive, mainline churches that could benefit from a shot of evangelicalism, and a lot of evangelical churches who could benefit from a shot of progressivism.  We have so much to learn from one another, but instead we’re like a pair of toddlers fighting over space in the sandbox. 

But if the early church could survive—and in fact, thrive  amidst persecution—when it included both Jews and Gentiles, zealots and tax collectors, slaves and owners, men and women, those in support of circumcision and those against it, those staunchly opposed to eating food that had been sacrificed to idols and those who felt it necessary, then I think modern American Christianity can survive when it includes democrats and republicans, biblical literalists and biblical non-literalists, Calvinists and Arminians...so long as we’re not rooting for one another’s demise.   

With this in mind, maybe being  “in between” isn’t so bad. Maybe being “in between” puts those of us who find ourselves torn between conservative Christianity and liberal Christianity in a position to act as peacemakers and bridge-builders between the two groups.  Maybe it enables us to help break down these binaries altogether, as we are living proof that you don’t have to choose one or the other. 

I’m not exactly sure what this peacemaking process will look like, but I have a few ideas of how we can get started: 

Let’s be ourselves. 

This may surprise you, seeing as how I’m a blogger with an outspoken opinion on everything, but when I’m a part of a conservative Christian community, I tend to keep my more progressive views quiet, and when I’m a part of  a more liberal Christian community, I tend to keep my more liberal views quiet. I don’t want to cause division. I don’t want to be shamed. I don’t want to make Sunday mornings any more difficult than they already are. 

And so I essentially fake it through worship and community activities, accepting whatever “package” that particular church has to offer, then feeling distant and removed as I go through the motions before eventually quitting. 

But what if I stopped faking it? What if I brought myself—my gifts, my questions, my opinions—to church? What if, instead of conforming to the mold, I refused to accept it? 

 When I think of someone doing this well, I think of my friend Alise Wright. Alise, whose best friend is gay, is openly gay-affirming, and yet she continues to attend and serve a more conservative church where few of her fellow worshipers would agree with her position on homosexuality. In fact, she helps lead worship every Sunday! What I love about Alise is that she’ll straight-up tell you what she thinks about something, but never demand that you agree. She doesn’t make a big stink about it; she just participates in her faith community as herself, refusing to accept the “package deal.” 

Perhaps church leaders will lay off some of the “us vs. them” language from the pulpit when they realize that characteristics they typically associate with “them” exist in some of “us.” This begins with all of us being more honest with one another. 

Let’s create and nurture diverse communities of faith. 

As you know, we tried to start a church that was a blend of evangelicalism and progressivism here in Dayton and it didn’t exactly pan out. For a while, this made me skeptical that such a community could survive anywhere, but then I started to travel.

I was invited to speak to faith communities that displayed a crazy blend of evangelical fervor and progressive inclusivism, that included a diverse group of people politically, theologically, and socially, and that loved one another like I’ve never seen before. More and more of these communities  are popping up around the country. I think of RISE Church in Harrisonburg (United Methodist), Missiongathering in San Diego (Disciples of Christ), The Refuge (non-denominational) and The House for All Sinners and Saints(Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) in Denver, and many more.  

None of these communities look exactly the same—(some are more conservative/progressive than others and worship styles vary)—but that’s exactly why they are thriving.   They’re not buying into the “package deal.” The existence of these communities should encourage us. They speak to the fact that there is a grassroots movement afoot that transcends old labels and that may very well give us a glimpse of the future of Christianity in America. 

Let’s learn to argue better.

I have no problem with Christians arguing with one another. Really. We’re brothers and sisters, for goodness sake!  Of course we’re going to argue!  We just need to learn to do it better. 

Obviously, because some disagreements have practical implications that affect worship and organization, denominations will continue to exist.  I think that’s a good thing.  The notion of a homogeneous Church that looks exactly the same in doctrine and practice from congregation to congregation, culture to culture, community to community, is unrealistic and unhelpful.  But surely we can allow these differences to exist without questioning one another’s commitment to the faith and without rooting for one another’s demise!

 For example, I will continue to speak out passionately against the patriarchy advocated by folks like John Piper because I feel strongly that the Church is better served when men and women are treated as functional equals. But if John and I had the chance to share communion together—to partake together of the body and blood of Christ—I would do it in heartbeat. I disagree with him, but he is my brother. We have more commonalities than differences.  I think we just forget sometimes that we argue because of what we have in common.

 Conservative, liberal, or in-between, we should continue to debate the doctrines and practices closest to our hearts. Unity is not the same as uniformity.  But when we debate, we should do it assuming the best about one another, taking our thumbs off the scale, honoring our shared commitment to Christ. We don’t have to be on the same page on every issue in order to love one another and work for peace.  

These suggestions are just a few that come to mind. I’m guessing you all may have some more. How can we move beyond the liberal/conservative divide in Christianity? What can those of us who feel caught “in between” do to become peacemakers and bridge builders? Please share your thoughts!

Mutuality 2012 Posts

This series is dedicated to discussing an egalitarian view of gender—including relevant biblical texts and practical applications. The goal is to show how scripture, tradition, reason, and experience all support a posture of equality toward women, one that favors mutuality rather than hierarchy, in the home, Church, and society.

Week of Mutuality: How it will work, definition of terms

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? (Genesis 1-3)

4 Common Misconceptions About Egalitarianism

Submission in Context: Christ and the Greco-Roman Household Codes

Dan on roles, leadership, and supporting your partner (Dan Evans)

Who’s Who Among Biblical Women Leaders

For the Sake of the Gospel, Let Women Speak (1 Timothy 2:11-15) 

Ask an Egalitarian...(Mimi Haddad)  

Is patriarchy really God’s dream for the world?  

When Men and Women Ministered Together as Equals (Ed Cyzewski)

Women of Valor: It’s About Character, Not Roles (Proverbs 31, Ruth)

Mutuality 2012 Synchroblog

 List of Resources

"All right, then, I'll go to hell”

If I had to pick a favorite American writer, it would be Mark Twain, and if I had to pick a favorite scene from an American novel, it would be the one where his unlikely hero, Huckleberry Finn, accepts his fate in hell. 

It’s the moral climax of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. The duke and dauphin have betrayed Jim and sold him to the Phelpses “for forty dirty dollars,” and the Phelpses have locked Jim in their shed, where he awaits his return to his rightful owner for a $200 reward.  Huck goes back to the raft to figure out what to do next, and there he gets to thinking about the lessons he learned in Sunday school about what happens to people like him who assist runaway slaves.

“People that acts as I’d been acting about [Jim],” he’d been told, “goes to everlasting fire.” 

(After all, the Bible is clear: “Slaves obey your earthly masters with respect and fear”- Ephesians 6:5.) 

Huck feels genuine conviction regarding his sin and, fearful of his certain fate in hell unless he changes course, he decides to write a letter to Jim’s owner, Miss Watson, to tell her where Jim can be found:  

I felt good and all washed clean of sin for the first time I had ever felt so in my life, and I knowed I could pray now. But I didn't do it straight off, but laid the paper down and set there thinking- thinking how good it was all this happened so, and how near I come to being lost and going to hell. And went on thinking. And got to thinking over our trip down the river; and I see Jim before me, all the time; in the day, and in the night-time, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we a floating along, talking, and singing, and laughing. But somehow I couldn't seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the other kind. I'd see him standing my watch on top of his'n, stead of calling me, so I could go on sleeping; and see him how glad he was when I come back out of the fog; and when I come to him agin in the swamp, up there where the feud was; and such-like times; and would always call me honey, and pet me, and do everything he could think of for me, and how good he always was; and at last I struck the time I saved him by telling the men we had smallpox aboard, and he was so grateful, and said I was the best friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the only one he's got now; and then I happened to look around, and see that paper.

It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was a trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself:"All right, then, I'll go to hell"- and tore it up.

It was awful thoughts, and awful words, but they was said. And I let them stay said; and never thought no more about reforming. I shoved the whole thing out of my head; and said I would take up wickedness again, which was in my line, being brung up to it, and the other warn't. And for a starter, I would go to work and steal Jim out of slavery again; and if I could think up anything worse, I would do that, too; because as long as I was in, and in for good, I might as well go the whole hog.”

It is a moment of true moral courage, complicated though it is by troubling ingrained cultural assumptions. (Later, Huck can only make sense of Jim’s kindness to him and Tom Sawyer by concluding he must be “white on the inside,” a comment that reveals Twain’s gift for creating characters that both critique yet fully inhabit their cultural contexts.) 

I often think about Huck’s resolution when I am told by religious leaders that “the Bible is clear” on this or that, and that I’ve got to stop listening to those gut feelings that tell me maybe we’ve gotten a few things wrong, that maybe there’s more to the story than we’re ready to see.

 “Your feelings don’t matter,” they say. 

“Your feelings cannot be trusted,” they say.

“Once you start listening to your feelings, over and beyond the plain meaning of Scripture, it’s a slippery slope to hell,” they say. 

A part of me agrees. I want to be faithful to the inspired words of the Bible, not bend them to fit my own desires and whims. Being a person of faith means trusting God’s revelation, even when the path it reveals is not comfortable.  

But another part of me worries that a religious culture that asks its followers to silence their conscience is just the kind of religious culture that produces $200 rewards for runaway slaves. The Bible has been “clear” before, after all—in support of a flat and stationary earth, in support of wiping out entire people groups, in support of  manifest destiny, in support of Indian removal, in support of anti-Semitism, in support of slavery, in support of “separate but equal,” in support of constitutional amendments banning interracial marriage. 

In hindsight, it all seems so foolish, such an obvious abuse of Scripture. 

...But at the time? 

Sometimes true faithfulness requires something of a betrayal. 

A few months ago, I was invited to serve communion at a church in San Diego that included quite a few LGBT Christians in its membership. A lot of things happened in that service that would make some of the leaders in my evangelical religious community very angry: a woman serving the bread and the wine, a lesbian couple partaking of the elements with their baby daughter in tow, a gay man embracing me in a big bear hug and telling me that it was the first time in twenty years he felt worthy to come to the Table. 

In that moment—the one with the big bear hug—I knew what my Sunday school teachers would say. They would say that this man was most certainly not worthy to come to the Table, that I was most certainly not worthy to serve, and that daring to participate in this endeavor would surely take me one step closer to “everlasting fire.”  

“The body of Christ, broken for you,” I said anyway.

“The blood of Christ, shed for you,” I said anyway.

 “The body of Christ, broken for you,” he said anyway.

 “The blood of Christ, shed for you, he said anyway. 

As we embraced, I knew in a way that I cannot put into words that sharing communion with this man was the right thing to do, that it was an act of bravery and grace for both of us—together unworthy, together worthy, brother and sister, in the mystery of the Eucharist. 

So when the thought of my Sunday school teachers’ disapproval crossed my mind, the only words to surface to my lips were, “All right, then, I’ll go to hell.” 

Perhaps grace, like the Bible, was never meant to be "sivilized" anyway.

***

See also:

Is the abolition of slavery "biblical"?

Enough: Or, why we should all be laughing hysterically in the magazine aisle

I can’t for the life of me recall what book I read it in, but I remember an author saying once that he raised his children to be wary of consumerism by teaching them to laugh at commercials. 

Like, the whole family would sit around the TV together and bust out laughing when someone from LG asked, “Is it a washer? Or something better?”

 (It’s just a washer.)

I’ve decided I like this idea, particularly as a woman, who most advertisers seem to take for a complete idiot. 

Case in point: Last night, Eva Longoria winked at me from the TV screen and, with a gold-colored tube of mascara between her fingers, said, “Don’t just volumize your lashes! Millionize them!” 

 Okay, first of all, Eva, neither “volumize” nor “millionize” are words. 

Second of all, even if it were scientifically possible to “millionize” my lashes, would that really be safe? (I’m getting a creepy vision of Animal in a Muppet Special.)

Millionize your lashes!

And third of all, if L’Oreal wants to join the feminist movement for real, how about they begin by not perpetuating the stereotype that girls are so bad at math and science that they’ll go out and buy a product that promises to “millionize” their eyelashes.? I mean, what’s next? A “trillionizer?” A “gazillionizer”? When you start with “millionize,” there’s nowhere else to go but crazy town. 

It reminds me of the text on the back of my shampoo bottle, which promises that all my dry, frizzy hair needs is a little “fortified fruit science” and all will be well. 

 Fortified fruit science. 

Because that’s a thing. 

You gotta laugh at this stuff to keep from crying. 

Same goes for the magazine aisle. Strategically placed near the checkout line at the grocery store, where, after a frustrating hour of decision-making, calorie counting, list checking, and child-bribing, women would otherwise be forced to stop, wait, and ask themselves a few questions about the meaning of their existence, the magazine aisle dazzles us with photoshopped images of super-skinny models, next to impeccably arranged place settings, next to actresses praised for losing their baby weight in five minutes, next to Martha Stewart holding a perfectly frosted chocolate cake. 

As if all of those scenarios are possible at once. 

The headlines say things about “10 Ways to Snag a Man” and “4 Recipes Your Family Will Love” and “29 Ways To Lose Weight And Still Eat a Donut Every Day,” but what we really read is: 

Are you pretty enough?

Are you crafty enough?

Are you sexy enough? 

Are you stylish enough? 

Are you domestic enough?

Are you enough?

Too often, we forget to laugh at the absurdity of these questions, and instead find ourselves grabbing a magazine from the rack, flipping through its pages, desperately looking for something that might make us “enough”— fortified fruit science, perhaps? 

Well, last week, TIME Magazine skipped past all the subtleties and came right out with it. Next to the now infamous picture of a thin, provocatively posed, bombshell of a mother, defiantly breastfeeding her nearly four-year-old son, were printed the words: 

Are you mom enough?

 The cover sparked a flurry of responses as women around the world issued a collective, “WTF, TIME?” 

There has to be a way to write a compelling cover story on attachment parenting without exploiting every woman’s deepest insecurities,  pitting mothers against one another, and making this poor kid’s future college life a nightmare!

But the way I see it, TIME gave us a something of a gift. By stripping that cover of all pretense, it revealed in plain language the lie behind so much of the media’s messages for women: If you aren’t a sexy, put-together, powerful, super-mom, who breastfeeds her kids until they’re four while baking apple pies, making crayon art, and investing in a successful career,  then you’re a failure. You will always fall short. You will never be enough. 

 Such an idea is so absurd, it should elicit laughter, not groans.  It’s like millionized lashes and fortified fruit science—too stupid to take seriously! 

And yet a small part of us believes it.

Why?

This whole idea of the “ideal woman” is one reason I decided to take on my year of biblical womanhood project.  I hated how well-intentioned pastors and leaders were taking the Bible I loved so much and turning into yet another magazine cover that asks:  “Are you biblical enough?”

And by “biblical,” most pointed to a glamorized, westernized version of the Proverbs 31 Woman, who rises before dawn each day, provides food for her family, trades fine linens for a profit, invests in real estate, and works late into the night weaving and sewing.  Christian books and conferences tend to perpetuate the idea that a woman’s worth should be measured by the details, rather than the message, of Proverbs 31, and like the magazines in the checkout line, often  focus on fitness, domesticity, beauty, and success as ways of earning the favor of God and men.

But here’s the thing. 

The poetic figure found in Proverbs 31 is not the only woman in the Bible to receive the high praise of, “eshet chayil!” or “woman of valor!” 

So did Ruth. 

And Ruth could not be more opposite than the Proverbs 31 Woman. 

Ruth was a Moabite (a big no-no back then; men were forbidden from marrying foreign wives). 

Ruth was childless.  

Ruth, was a widow— “damaged goods” in those days. 

Ruth was dirt poor. 

Rather than exchanging fine linens with the merchants to bring home a profit to her husband and children, Ruth spent her days gleaning leftovers from the workers in the fields so she and her mother-in-law could simply survive!

And yet, despite looking nothing like the ancient near Eastern version of a magazine cover,  Ruth is bestowed with the highest honor. She is called a woman of valor. Eshet chayil!  

She is called a woman of valor before she marries Boaz, before she has a child with him for Naomi, beforeshe becomes a wealthy and influential woman. 

Because in God’s eyes, she was already enough. 

 The brave women of Scripture—from Ruth to Deborah to Mary Magdalene to Mary of Bethany—remind me that there’s no one right way to be a woman, and that these images of perfection with which we are confronted every day are laughable to those of us who are in on the big secret: We are already enough. 

We are enough because God is enough, and God can turn even the smallest acts of valor—letting go of a grudge, cleaning puke out of a kid’s hair, inviting the homeless guy to dinner, listening to someone else’s story— into something great.  

Proverbs 31:25 says the wise woman “laughs at the days to come.”

I don’t think the Proverbs 31 Woman laughs because she has it all together.  

I think she laughs because she knows the secret about being enough. 

And so my big act of valor this week will be simple: I’m going to pick up the first magazine I see in the grocery store, point to the cover, and laugh like a maniac, right  in front of God and everybody. 

....Let’s just hope it’s not something sophisticated like The Atlantic, cause then I would look like an idiot. 

(Read more posts like this one.)

(Learn more about my year of biblical womanhood.)