LGBTQ+

“But we’re not all like that!”

Not gonna lie, I’m sure I’ve said those exact words. Or, more specifically, I’ve muttered them at my computer screen, whispered them to God late at night in bed, and thought them angrily in my head while listening to people preach. Up until a couple of years ago, I didn’t dare speak them out loud, because to do so would mean to lose the people I hoped to help move toward change.

I admit, I’m not a huge fan of Dan Savage, but I credit him with saying something that made me take notice. He said Christians should stop hiding behind “not all like that” (I’m paraphrasing here). He specifically meant in regard to support of LGBTQI people, but I think it applies just about everywhere that -isms reside. We can’t just sit silently or straddle fences; if we’re against oppression, then we need to do something about that. (Honestly, I could just shorten that to “Fuck living in the tension.” If I never hear that phrase again, I will die happy. It strikes me as a way of trying to have one’s cake and eat it, too. Just be honest, dammit–if you’re truly anyone’s ally, spell it out; otherwise, keep your yap shut.)

Anyway, that’s not my point, really. What I want to write about is the people who wear their “Not All Like That” gold star as a way of silencing people. I’ve actually found, over the years I’ve been at this blogging thing, that Not All Like That is really code for, “I don’t approve, but I’m going to be nice anyway.” These are not hidden allies who are scared to speak up; they’re people who still believe they have the right to treat people as issues to fight over. More often than not, it’s people who are still stuck in an endless loop of “love the sinner, hate the sin” and “it’s the same as any other sin, like being a drunk” (heard that one more times than I can count at this point). My personal favorite is, “Well, I’m wired to want to cheat on my wife; you’re wired to like people of the same sex–let’s both work on our issues.” Yech.

An exchange between friends this morning prompted me to think about the ways in which some Christians continue to deny that there’s anything wrong because they aren’t participating in the worst of it. There were some words traded back and forth about whether or not the Church has chosen to fixate on the wrong problems in the world. I had a distinct impression of excusing religiously-based heterosexism because it’s not as bad as hate speech.

This is just an alternate form of “not all like that.” I’m not sure where the idea comes from that the Church bears no responsibility for quite a lot of anti-gay obsession. A number of prominent organizations and preachers have had pretty vile things to say about LGBTQI people, mostly in public. There are still places one can go to be “cured” of the “homosexual lifestyle.” Friends have expressed grief that they’ve been shamed–sometimes publicly–both for being LGBTQI and for being an ally. It’s easy to see where the Church has gotten a reputation for spending more time and energy on fighting gay marriage than on resolving world hunger (or hell, even hunger in our own country).

At the same time, there’s this new wave of “moderate” Christians who want to distance themselves from what they perceive as the truly evil, while still maintaining a position in which they refuse to acknowledge people’s humanity. A fellow blogger has pushed every. single. one of my buttons by continuing to act as some kind of spokesperson for the Church of Not All Like That. She’s written on such cheery methods of “reconciliation” as hugging a gay person (at random? one we know personally? not sure here) and attending a gay pride parade for the purpose of observing the people there. (Just a bit of advice: Please don’t do that. Put that way, it dehumanizes people by making them sound like wild animals you’re visiting in their native habitat.) I’ve seen similar sorts of things across my Twitter and Facebook feeds, and it drives me up the wall.

Listen. I know you Not All Like That folks mean well; I really do. But please trust me when I tell you that LGBTQI people and their allies do, in fact, know the difference between patronizing them and actually loving them. Sometimes, when you have an established relationship, you can make this work. God bless and more power to ya. But when you are a random stranger on the Internet? Don’t. Just–don’t. The words, “But I love you anyway” should not come out of your mouth or your keyboard.

It’s easy to say you’re going to love a LGBTQI person (or hug them or stare at them at Pride or write precious things about how you care for them even though you “disagree” with who they are). I recommend against saying it, though. It’s a lot more important that you do it. Your LGBTQI friends and family don’t actually require your approval to be who they are, so telling them that you “love them anyway” is not likely to further that relationship. That isn’t acknowledging anyone’s personhood, it’s making you feel better for trying hard not to be a jerk.

I’m kinda done with the whole fence-sitting thing; I have been for a long time. I don’t bother trying to engage people in conversation so I can convince them to change their position. I used to be willing to go there, but not anymore. Honestly (and I apologize for this), I was making humans into issues. There was a point at which I truly wanted everyone to stand on what I believed to be the “right” side. What I want now is for people to just be honest. I’m not interested in making space for anyone at my table–I want a whole new table where people don’t need to ask for space. If don’t want to do that, then own it. Don’t pretend you’re honoring the full humanity of others while still refusing them a seat.

Even the appearance of evil

LGBTQ+, Women

By Josef Seibel (Portrait of two young women) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

A few days ago, Stephanie Drury (Stuff Christian Culture Likes) posted a link to Set Apart Girl Magazine. Nearly everything about it makes me cringe. Even the title is awful. I have a list of words that, as a woman, I do not want to be called. At the top of the list is using female as a noun when referring to humans. Second only to that is calling adult women girls. Right off the bat this magazine has me wanting to punch something.

Feel free to read through the magazine if you want to, but bring boots and a shovel. Meanwhile, I’m going to highlight the article that grabbed my attention: “Unnatural Affections.” It’s about exactly what you think it is–and yet also not.

“Unnatural Affections” is the tragic tale of a friendship gone “too far.” The young woman in the story, Sarah, has developed a friendship with one of her college classmates, Meredith. The relationship is close, and it includes long talks, Bible studies, and physical affection. And then the nightmare spiral into Meredith stalking and controlling Sarah . . . oh, wait. No, that’s not what happens.

What actually happens is that Sarah’s family and her boyfriend become “concerned” for her that she’s spending too much of the wrong kind of time with Meredith. Her boyfriend, in a creepy-as-hell turn, even demands that she choose between him and her friendship. In the end, Sarah caves and ditches Meredith so as not to hamper her future intimacy with her boyfriend (when they’re properly married, of course). Just to prove what a parasite Meredith is, she apparently gloms onto another young woman to repeat her pattern.

This is a lovely little morality play, but there is so much wrong with it that I’m hardly sure where to start. First, the relationship as described is not in any way abusive. I’ve been in an abusive friendship, and it doesn’t look anything like that. It looks like a friend who not only demands your time and attention but deliberately sabotages your other relationships. It looks like an expectation to praise her every move. It looks like her telling you that she thinks your boyfriend–who is well-liked by everyone else–is “condescending” and “too smart.” It looks gossiping about you behind your back, cleverly disguising it as “prayer requests.” It looks like demanding you give up friendships with people she doesn’t like. It does not look like hugs and hair-braiding and long talks cuddling up while watching a movie.

Second, we women cannot win. No matter what we do, we are seen as impure. If we spend too much time with a boyfriend, we’re putting him before God. If we spend too much time with another woman, we’re putting her before God. If we have sex before we’re married, we’re “damaged goods.” If we have a physically affection friendship, we’re failing to keep our bodies pure. Essentially, young women are to be starved of loving touch until marriage, at which point it will magically become okay–as long as it’s only with our husbands. What kind of sick joke is that? It sounds like another variation of body = bad, soul = good.

Third, the whole thing is a clear example of why I’m still stubbornly writing about homophobia in the church. See, here’s the thing. A person doesn’t even have to actually be gay to find him- or herself victimized by the church. One only has to give the appearance of doing something the church disapproves of. In this case, the Big Bad was having a physically affectionate relationship with a friend; The article even refers to it as “subtly sensual.”

As a youth, I heard all about how I should “avoid even the appearance of evil” and “not cause my brothers to stumble.” That meant I had to obsess over every single action I took, because I might somehow do something that could be interpreted as sinful. I recall a youth leader explaining that it meant she didn’t drink wine when out at a restaurant because she couldn’t be sure there wasn’t a teenager or a recovering alcoholic in the restaurant, and she didn’t want to give the teen the wrong impression or tempt the alcoholic to drink. That may sound extreme, but it’s another example of exactly what’s going on in the story of Sarah and Meredith. It doesn’t matter one bit whether they were actually in a sexual relationship–what matters is that they appeared as though they were.

I appreciate that some people may be hurt by having assumptions made about their sexuality (actually, no, I really don’t care about that at all; suck it up). But I’m far more concerned about the message this sends to LGBTQ people: “You are so bad that we don’t even want anyone doing stuff that looks like you.” Is there anything else the church believes to be sin that’s treated with such utter contempt?

Yesterday, some of the people I follow on Twitter were expressing the desire to stop coddling people who are not LGBTQ allies–to stop pretending that it’s just a difference of opinion and that it’s okay. I’m all for that. It’s not remotely okay to find every possible way to shame and humiliate people for who they are. It’s not okay to tell lies about LGBTQ people from the pulpit. It’s not okay to attach unnecessary subtext to a friendship based on those lies. It’s not okay to sit back and tolerate other people doing it, either.

To the Sarahs and Merediths of the world, there is nothing wrong with you. Whether it truly is just a friendship or whether you’ve discovered you’re in love with each other, take both as blessings. You’ve found a valuable gift if you have a friend or a lover with whom you can talk about your love for God and the Bible. Go find your joy in one another, and screw the loveless people who shame you for what you have.

Love, Sex, and Marriage: Not Metaphors

LGBTQ+, Love, Social Justice

Yesterday, I read this article from the Gospel Coalition by Jonathan Leeman: Love and the Inhumanity of Same-Sex Marriage. I almost couldn’t get past the title, and it took me three tries to actually read the post. If you haven’t already clicked on the link, you may not want to bother; it certainly lives down to its promise.

There is far too much in here for me to address in one blog post. I would love to tackle the idea that Christians are throwing up our hands and saying, “Why bother fighting when the times they are a-changin’?” That implies a passive, rather than an active, position on marriage equality that simply doesn’t exist for many of us. I would also like to take on the assumption that it’s “sinful” to work for marriage equality and that Real, True Christians must wage war against it. It would take several blog posts to explain my position on “Scriptural authority” and “final judgment.” I already gave my opinion on Leeman’s stupid comment about “humanity” when I posted this on Facebook last night.

So, where do I go with this?

As I read through this, the one thought I kept returning to was how we know what love, sex, and marriage are or ought to be. There seems to be an underlying idea among conservative Christians that these things are somehow a metaphor for God’s relationship with humanity. Hand in hand with that view is the belief that this love is correctly represented by (cis) man-woman marriage with penis-in-vagina sex as its ultimate expression.

This belief is supported at least in part by a reading of texts such as Song of Solomon as both a metaphor for God’s relationship with Israel and as a “sex poem.” It is also upheld by a backwards interpretation of what is meant by the Scriptures comparing the Church to a bride and Jesus to a groom. That, however, is a stretch. There is no indication that the Church was created as a bride, merely that the language used reflected something people understood–that is, the complex, intertwining relationship between husband and wife. The same is true in other passages of Scripture drawing the same comparison. In fact, Paul even says this is a mystery.

With such narrow definitions of love and intimacy, is it any wonder that people like Leeman would conclude that same-sex marriage (and, of course, same-sex lovemaking) are “less than human”?

When I read the Bible (full disclosure: I do not take Genesis 1-3 literally), I don’t read about how God made man and woman to be perfect relational complements or metaphors for God/humans or bodies that fit together just so. I read, “God saw that it was not good for the [human] to be alone.” We weren’t meant to live in isolation, but not because God was making a cosmic point. God saw that the human heart needed human love and companionship.

While I don’t believe that God created us with the intent to use us to show God’s love, I do believe God’s love is reflected in us. This isn’t limited, though, to man-woman marriage. It’s present in our deepest friendships; in our parenting; in our siblings; and yes, in our most intimate relationships. Not one of these things is a more perfect representation of God’s love; they are all imperfect–dark, like Paul’s reflecting glass. They are facets of the same glorious diamond.

If we limit the full expression of God’s love to man-woman-marriage-sex as the pinnacle, we fail to honor the deep, profound love that is experienced elsewhere. We begin to view the unmarried (especially women) as failing to achieve a holy ideal. We determine same-sex couples to be “less than human” in their love. We reject those who choose to be child-free as missing out on the actualization of “real” love. That’s not what God wants for us. Jesus made a promise to his followers: When two or more of us are gathered in his name, he will be with us. That promise is so incredibly freeing when it comes to how we see love, particularly God’s love for us.

I see the beautiful, mysterious love of God all around me in humanity. I see it when my son is baptized alongside a baby boy who has two mommies, while my child-free sister and my single-mom sister honor us with their presence. I see it when my children talk about their futures and always include one another because their love for each other runs so deep. I see it in my friends who, time after time, demonstrate their love for me in small ways. I see it in those who spend their time and money working for peace and justice throughout the world. I see it in the tender care offered by pastors to their congregations. I see it in the midst of tragedy when people reach out, even risking their own safety, to tend to others.

God’s love isn’t limited to a single expression; therefore, mine will not be boxed in either.

I support marriage equality

LGBTQ+, Social Justice

Just in case the title of this post wasn’t clear, or you haven’t ever read my blog before, I support marriage equality. There. I’ve said it twice now.

Yesterday, I had the unfortunate lack of sense to use Human Rights Campaign’s flashy red logo with the equals sign as my profile picture in several places. Yeah, my apologies to anyone I offended. I’m normally a person who does enough research to know whether something is a good idea. I had a pretty spectacular fail there, and I’m sorry. I have since changed it, of course, out of respect for others. Yes, it was hurtful to some people I care about, but I also care about not harming people who randomly follow me on the Internet. Kindness shouldn’t require personal connection.

Anyway, because I kept seeing people tweeting about the HRC logo, I did do some digging. Naturally, I came across some good information that explained the problem. Unfortunately, I also discovered several disappointing rants about marriage equality, and not from conservative religious people.

The main point of the anti-marriage rants wasn’t necessarily specific to same-sex couples marrying. It was more about marriage in general, and specifically marriage as it relates to family structure. The argument was that legal marriage perpetuates a certain type of family structure and is therefore discriminatory.

I don’t entirely disagree. I have long said that I think the government should just butt the hell out of marriage in general. Religious institutions can keep it as a sacrament if they want, but removing the legal stamp of approval would make it much easier on everyone. However, that has nothing to do with whether or not I think a certain type of family is “better” than another.

There are a few reasons why I still support marriage equality, despite the fact that I don’t think a legal document should be necessary. First, the way the law is written, there are literally dozens of legal benefits to marriage. It’s a worthy goal to strip those away and make sure everyone has those rights regardless of a piece of paper, but that isn’t going to happen overnight. I think the place to start is by giving everyone the right to marry if they so desire. (And in case you were wondering, no, I don’t include children, pets, and immediate family members in that, but I do include multiple spouses; that’s a post for another day.) I think marriage equality is a temporary patch, but a necessary one.

Second, I think arguing against marriage from a family structure point of view is on shaky ground. Even though the argument is intended to sound like it isn’t heteronormative and biased toward procreation, it actually is. It should not be surprising that of the three anti-marriage arguments I read, two were written by white cisgender heterosexual parents with long-term partners–in other words, people who have the freedom to marry but have chosen not to. I concede that “marriage,” with all its varying definitions over the course of human history, has indeed been at least partly driven by procreation. However, that is not what marriage is; it’s only one of the things marriage can do. Claiming that marriage only legitimizes a two-parent family structure assumes that every married couple wants to parent, or that the potential for parenthood was their only reason for getting married. Should they not have bought into the system? Should they have remained unmarried because there were no children to be “harmed” by their lack of legal contract? It also assumes that there are absolutely no other family-related benefits to legal marriage other than making sure kids have two adults in the home.

Third, no one said that marriage equality is the last battle–or even the first one–toward an inclusive society. I have never heard that as an argument in favor of marriage equality. Maybe I need to read more, but I’ve never read anything in which someone tried to claim that if same-sex couples can marry, it will end all discrimination. But even if someone did say that, so what? Saying something doesn’t make it true, nor does it take anything away from protecting other rights. If one person wants to spend his or her time and money on marriage equality, why would that prevent someone else from making a different choice? As long as a person is not actively supporting discriminatory legislation, I don’t see the problem here. (I feel differently about whole organizations, though, especially when they claim to speak for a community. I certainly don’t want, say, Concerned Women for America suddenly claiming to support “women’s rights.”)

Finally, people want to get married. Couples everywhere want to get married, and not all of them do it because they know the secrets of the tax code. Not all couples need religion as their reason either. Since there are many, many people who want to be married, I support that. I support their right to have a legal document stating that they are married. I don’t really care what their reasons are for doing it; I just want the law to reflect their right.

I do understand why some people feel differently, but I still stand behind marriage equality. Not everyone will choose to marry, but everyone should legitimately have the right to make that choice.

There’s no miracle in ex-gay

LGBTQ+, Links

TW for “ex-gay” and mentions of rape at the end of the post.

Yesterday, I read this article in Christianity Today. It’s long, but I suggest you read the whole thing if you have the chance. The post is titled, “My Train Wreck Conversion,” and it’s the spiritual journey of a woman who was once (in her words) a “leftist lesbian professor.” She apparently had a miraculous experience which led to her leaving her partner and joining a Reformed Presbyterian church. She is now married (to a man) and appears to have traded in her entire previous life to be the wife of a minister and write a book about her conversion. (Tellingly, her “about” below the post says nothing about her career or her life other than her marriage and book.)

I do not know this woman. I cannot speak to her experiences, because they belong to her. It makes me very sad that she doesn’t mention the hurt she surely caused her partner when she “rose from the bed of [her] lesbian lover” to go to church and ask God to explain why homosexuality was sinful. It makes me angry that she glibly uses the word “queer” in reference to herself, though she no longer identifies as such. It makes me grind my teeth when she uses transphobic language in reference to a friend (she calls the friend “she” but makes mention of her “large” hands*). It makes me roll my eyes when she talks about her “butch” haircut standing out in church. It disappoints me that she gave up a career in academia to become identified by her role as minister’s wife. It makes me feel sorry for her that she felt she could not be both a lesbian and a Christian or a feminist and a faithful believer.

All of that saddens me. I hope the writer has found peace, and I do wish her well. I would like her to stop using this as a platform to silence other people, but other than that, her life is her own and it isn’t my place to say what she should or shouldn’t do with it. The real problem here is the way she is being used by Christianity Today.

Full disclosure: I haven’t been a fan of CT for a very long time. A lot of what’s in there is far to conservative for me–something which should not be surprising to anyone who’s been around my blog for more than, say, a day or two. Even so, CT is hardly the worst offender when it comes to conservative Christianity. There have been occasional posts that even I found meaningful. “My Train Wreck Conversion” is not one of them.

The problem I see is perpetuation of the myth of “ex-gay.” I can understand actual gay Christians who believe that, despite their orientation, they are called by God to remain celibate. That is their choice. But those people are not doing harm by giving people the impression that being gay is a choice and that it’s possible for God to “heal” one of being gay. And honestly, I’m not concerned that this article will cause droves of gay young people to think they will be changed. I’m more concerned that it will cause heterosexual Christians to hold this woman up as yet another example of, “See? We told you it was a choice. Now go pray away the gay.” I’m worried that it will lead to more church leaders doing damage through “counseling” or “laying on of hands.” I’m afraid it will decrease, rather than increase, the compassion of conservative Christians.

Christianity Today will never be a place where we can find balance. For every story about an “ex-gay,” there is only a story about an “ex-gay.” There are no stories about people who have reconciled their faith and their sexuality. There are no interviews with Justin Lee, only a rather poor review of his book Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate. There is no place for the voices of thousands of gay Christians** who are living faithful, devout lives. There is no room for this beautiful, moving story of how the writer posting as Registered Runaway came face-to-face with the living God and found love. In the world of CT, there only seems to be an echo of the recurrent theme that morality is on a downswing because more and more Christians have rejected any version of “God hates fags,” including the cleaned-up, low-cal version that God likes “ex-gays” better.***

Really, Christianity Today? This is the best you’ve got? Interesting that your example of God’s work in the world is a story about a woman’s transformation from a strong, independent professor to an “ex-gay” little wifey. Clearly those damn gay people aren’t going to ruin our country after all. Meanwhile, jocks get away with raping a comatose drunk girl and a thirteen-year-old child. Wonder what their “conversion” stories will look like and if we’ll see them in a CT article down the road.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

*Normally, referring to someone’s hand size is not an issue. But in this case, the writer is making an unnecessary comment about hand size in order to indicate the external birth gender of her trans* friend. It’s explicitly transphobic; she could have left that out and simply said her friend took her hands without the gender reference.

**This is a fraction of the work out there by gay Christians.

***This post is specific to “ex-gay” because that’s what the original CT article was. I was not intentionally slighting those navigating faith and gender identity, but my post is pretty cis-slanted. For more on trans* issues and faith, please check out Father Shay’s blog. In addition to his discussions relevant to being trans*, he also has in-depth theology. Bring a lot of brain power.

Deeper problems in “emergence” Christianity

Emergent Thought, Faith and Spirituality, LGBTQ+, Social Justice, Women

On Tuesday, Julie Clawson posted an excellent piece on the Emergence Christianity gathering in Memphis last weekend. In her article, she rightly criticized Phyllis Tickle’s thoughts on the fall of Constantinian Christianity. (Please read Julie’s post; it’s lengthy, but it’s worth your time.) As a result, several of my fellow women of faith tweeted, reblogged, and discussed the content of Julie’s post and the problems that have become evident in much of emergent culture.

There was no problem with Julie’s thoughtful remarks about the confusion over Phyllis’ speech. There was no problem with the continued discussion on Twitter, in which many women chimed in to suggest that there might be some issues within the movement, including a failure to examine privilege. But for whatever reason, the conversation turned unpleasant when the women involved were accused of “attacking” the movement and being “passive-aggressive.” In other words, it was the Emergence Christianity version of calling women “shrill.”

I stopped identifying with the emergent movement some time ago. I found it to be largely populated by well-educated, white, cis-gendered, straight men. It’s not that I have anything against that particular demographic, but I prefer to have a broader range of people in my life. I have also become frustrated with the fact that Emergent types are willing to talk about inclusion but often fail to practice it. For example, LGBT people are frequently left out of the conversation in the supposed interest of attracting more people to the table. To put it simply, there is a widespread attitude that people should not be made to feel “uncomfortable” if they believe that homosexuality is a sin by having actual gay people speaking and teaching. To allow such would imply that Emergents have taken sides; thus we’re reduced to hearing straight people speak on behalf of LGBT Christians rather than hearing from LGBT Christians themselves.

That said, I have three real problems with the back-and-forth over the last two days. First, anyone who voiced (or tweeted, rather) concern over Phyllis’ statements was shut down as approaching their disagreement in the “wrong” way. In fact, Jay Bakker even suggested to Suzannah Paul in a tweet that the best way to handle criticism is in person or via telephone. This is an absolutely ridiculous thing to say, given the fact that Phyllis’ speech was 1. public; 2. the last thing on the program for the weekend; and 3. made by someone with whom it would be difficult for hundreds of people to have a personal conversation. Should everyone who disagrees with President Obama’s policies attempt to put a call through to the White House? This may be much smaller scale, but the principle is the same. In effect, Jay was shutting Suzannah down for speaking out, rather than engaging her to find out why she felt that the speech was misguided. In fact, in suggesting that it is unfair or unreasonable to critique problematic aspects of Emergence Christianity is much like telling people that it’s un-American to point out continued bias in the broader culture.

The second problem is that following that awkward Twitter non-conversation (note: tweeting about someone’s tweet is also passive-aggressive), the discussion turned to “rigorous thinking.” Once again, this is a way to shut down any real opportunity for honest consideration of privilege within the movement. In this case, anyone who is not an academic or an intellectual is left out. Additionally, it is assumed that only certain people are capable of having intelligent dialogue (read: men). Women could not possibly have put in the time and study needed to be active participants. As Sarah Moon pointed out in a series of tweets,

So, today I critiqued someone’s ideology and their response was “They must not teach [ideology] in the US.” Listen, man.

One of my biggest pet peeves is when white men assume my critiques of their academic discussions is based in ignorance

I have not put hundreds of hours into studying different theories for justice/liberation to be told “You must not have been taught” Nope.

Don’t even get me started on the fact that it is taken as a given that LGBT people don’t have any background in systematic theology. Using the old “but we need to use our big brains to sort this out!” to silence reasonable criticism is a way of belittling anyone who isn’t a straight, white, cis-man by assuming that person is not intelligent or educated.

Which brings me to the last problem. It disturbs me that the words “rigorous thinking” should be used in conjunction with anything having to do with faith. This was exactly the kind of narrow-minded bullshit I tried desperately to leave behind with the evangelicals. In their case, the issue was over finding the one correct interpretation for every single word of the Bible. Right doctrine trumped everything else. Now we have this particular brand of emergent thought that assumes we just need to study harder so that we can figure out God’s intent through Scripture. Understanding the context and nuance in history and the Bible will render previous versions of Christianity null and void and lead us to perfect practice of our faith. Unfortunately, there is no such thing. Replacing one crappy theology with an equally crappy theology leaves us nothing but a huge pile of manure. And certainly, maintaining that study is the most important aspect of spiritual practice ignores the fact that not all Christians are highly intellectual, nor do all of us want to spend the majority of our time poring over dense tomes. Most of us just want to love God and love people, and we’re all still trying to work out what that means.

I no longer have any hope that this movement is redeemable. (I’m sure my first clue ought to have been that Mark Driscoll was once associated with it.) It certainly isn’t the place for progressive Christians to find the kind of faith that does not merely speak on behalf of, but openly invites the voices of those who are most frequently silenced within the church. I don’t believe the answer is to start a new movement; I believe it is to stop looking for a revolution or a leader and start practicing the very things we want to see happen within Christian faith. Until and unless we confront the real problems—those pertaining to privilege, status, and value-attribution—we will never be the people God intended us to be.

“But we’re not all like that!”

Even the appearance of evil

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