The last two days have been unexpectedly difficult. While I celebrate the SCOTUS decisions on DOMA and Prop 8, the responses of many Christians have re-opened some old wounds.
I thought I was over it. I thought I was past feeling the pain of the proof-text grenades. I thought I could handle the burning, fear-based rage that seems to consume the Religious Right after every political victory for LGBTQ equality. I thought I was properly shielded from the arrows thrown by theological scholars with no empathy.
Turns out I can still be hit right between the eyes.
I simply don't understand such hatred and ignorance coming from people who claim to follow JESUS CHRIST.
I'd like to live my life guided by the Holy Spirit. I'd like to live out Kingdom of God ideals taught by Jesus. But I don't want to share a label with these people. How in the hell can these people be my "brothers and sisters in Christ"?
I don't know how to resolve this conflict.
The thing is: I'm a grown-up. I'm 40 years old. I have a loving partner, we live in a progressive city, and we go to a loving and affirming church. I have wonderful and accepting friends. I have a family who are trying to learn and grow and accept who I am; they certainly haven't rejected me. And despite all these support systems and privileges, the potential for being re-wounded remains. Their words and attitudes still have to power to inflict profound shame.
If this can still happen to me, how is it for those who live in conservative areas, go to conservative churches, and hear day after day that there is something broken about them? Whose family would disown them if they knew? Even in the more "loving" churches, where the homophobia is covert rather than overt. Where they hate the sin but love the sinner. I don't think most Christians understand how this covert homophobia affects the soul. It eats away at the psyche. It prevents growth. It kills the spark of life within.
I'm using my tiny platform to plead with Christians to Please Stop, but I know it isn't going to stop. No one who disagrees with me and reads this will change their minds. I guess I'm not writing it to change minds. I'm writing it to document and to make known the very real pain that you are perpetuating with your words and actions. It's not love. And therefore, it is NOT from God. It just can't be. It just CAN'T be.
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Thursday, June 27, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Gay Pride vs. Gay Shame
Perhaps because I felt defective, I had a strong inclination to hide, cover up, and use deliberate caution in any situation. Even though I liked to be hugged, I pretended I didn’t like it. I was embarrassed to take my shirt off to go swimming. I couldn’t say “I love you” even to my parents. I craved the affirmation from those in authority, because their acceptance was the only thing that distracted me from feeling...not quite right. Therefore, I was an extremely well-behaved and compliant child. I remember my 10th birthday—and what happened—so vividly, because even by that time I rarely let my guard down.
We were at Timber Lanes Bowling Alley in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma on a Saturday afternoon. With me were my sister, two cousins who also lived in Tulsa, and two other cousins who lived in Toledo, Ohio, visiting. They were my best friends. Around them, I felt safer than anywhere else. We made each other laugh.
That particular day, we were really cracking each other up. It was the kind of laughter when tears are actually flying out of your eyes; when you’re actually bent over holding your stomach and gasping for breath; when “throwing your head back and laughing” actually happens in real life.
Laughter has a way of lowering your defenses. I was feeling great. I exuberantly flung the heavy black ball down the alley, flapped my hands and arms in excitement, and wiggled my body and hips to will the ball to hit the pins. In these moments of joy and freedom and vulnerability, I forgot there were other people around us. Watching us. Specifically, there were 3 or 4 boys a little bit older than us in the next lane.
How could I not have noticed this?
I can’t remember exactly what made me see him. But I remember what he said and how he said it. With a look of disgust on his face, he said contemptuously: “Are you a BOY or a GIRL?” His friends around him were laughing.
It was like someone had thrown a water balloon right in my face: a shocking *SLAP* that left me stunned and ice cold. I tried to cover and said, lamely, “What do YOU think?” And he said something like: “I don't know! That's why I'm asking!” More laughter.
I tried to ignore him, tried to recapture the momentum of the fun we were having. But it was gone. I was shamed back into hiding. I was careful before, but this clinched it for me: I vowed to keep my shameful exuberance in check from then on. I never wanted to feel that way again.
II.
This past weekend was Gay Pride weekend in Portland. During the early years when I struggled to integrate my sexuality, identity, and spirituality, I was uncomfortable with that word pride. When you are raised as an evangelical Christian, pride is a sin—one of the seven deadly ones, in fact. Also, I wasn’t really proud that I was gay. In those days, I sincerely wished I wasn’t. Life would be so much easier. Even so, I had learned to accept it. If anything, I wanted to march in a Gay Indifferent parade.
“We’re here! We’re queer! And we don’t feel that strongly about it one way or the other!”
As more time went on, I learned not only to accept my sexuality, but to embrace it as a gift. This gift has given me a pathway of spiritual growth, as well as opportunities to develop empathy. It has given me numerous friends I never would have known, had I not been forced on a journey to find something better than a shame- and fear-based faith.
It was just this past weekend that it dawned on me: Gay Pride is the opposite of Gay Shame. “Pride” in this sense does not describe superiority, or blindness to others, or lack of humility, or obnoxious arrogance. It is the state where one can laugh, flap their arms, sing, and express joy without paralyzing caution. Being “Pride-ful” is being whole, more fully human, yourself.
III.
Overall, my relationship with the LGBTQ community has been positive; I’ve received support, love, and wisdom from friends and from the community at large. But being a member of a large, supportive community doesn’t exclude tension, disagreement, or resentment within that community. I’ve written in the past about how confident and exuberant people expose my own Shadow.
You're not supposed to act that way! If you do, bad things will happen, like getting shamed at a Bowling Party!
This weekend, I discovered more nuance as to why I have such strong, negative feelings of resentment and social anxiety around such people, including those within the LGBTQ community. These nuances came to light by watching the Portland Gay Men’s Chorus (PGMC) Pride concert. I used to be a member of that group, but recently took a break to work through some issues. As I sat in the audience, I was feeling those same vague feelings of resentment and social anxiety.
WHY? What can’t I just enjoy the show and shed these negative feelings? So I tried something that my therapist often encouraged me to do when I was having confusing feelings—I “went into the weeds” of the feelings and just sat in them. Soon, I had an epiphany. To summarize:
- When I see confidence and /or exuberance on display in people that I find to be shallow or unkind or insincere, the really negative shame and anger cycle begins. Cue resentment.
- When I see confidence and /or exuberance on display in people that I find to be smart, kind, and sincere, I want them to like me SO BADLY! And if they don’t, then I feel horrible. Cue social anxiety.
IMPORTANT NOTE: there are so many wonderful men (and women!) in PGMC. My partner and I have established some wonderful friendships with other choir members. Because the group is over 120 people, and because of my own introversion and Shadow, it only takes a handful of people to set off these feelings—whether or not these few people actually are shallow, unkind, or insincere! My Shadow would be exposed by any group of 120+ people. I love and respect PGMC and its members; I only refer to it because I have learned so much about my own issues by being a member.
There is so much power in being able to give a name to something that oppresses. Now that I have greater understanding of what’s going on internally, my hope is that I will be able to honor and integrate these feelings—becoming more whole, more fully human, and more myself. Related to this, my friend Emily wrote a piece about identifying (and feeling) the negative emotions of loss. I believe it is so important to be able to enter into these negative spaces and feel them, rather than trying to hide from them. As children, we learn how to cope with a lot of pain by hiding. This develops the Shadow. A primary task we have as adults is to let go of these coping mechanisms and learn to face our pain.
The journey out of shame is long and arduous. But I feel incredibly grateful to have found joy (even exuberance!) as a result of taking this journey.
What about you? Is there a type of person or behavior that brings out the Shadow in you? When you recognize it happening, what do you do?
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Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Interview: Ex-Gay Therapy
Earlier this year, I was interviewed by Luke Botham (for Siren FM in the UK) about my experience with ex-gay therapy. My interview snippet begins around the 1:33 mark. However I encourage you to listen to the entire 3 minute clip--especially the man featured at the beginning.
I would love to hear your reactions in the comments, as well as any experiences you may have had with ex-gay therapy!
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I would love to hear your reactions in the comments, as well as any experiences you may have had with ex-gay therapy!
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Monday, June 3, 2013
The Fundamentalism Trap
My partner and I live in a small condominium complex in Southwest Portland. Although the building is close to a busy road, trees tower over the neighborhood and the surrounding area, providing a sense of beauty and serenity. The backyard is shared by all residents, and it’s a great place for our dog Archie to run around and expend some energy. Other owners have dogs, including an older woman who lives on the bottom floor with her Yorkie. This woman happens to be deaf, and because my partner knows American Sign Language, they have conversations now and then while the dogs romp around on the lawn. She’s a lovely, kind-hearted person.
A couple of nights ago, someone smeared dog shit on her front door.
The message was fairly obvious: Clean up after your dog, bitch. This person chose a malicious act instead of sending an email (all residents have each other’s email addresses), posting a hand-written note to her door, or even talking to the HOA board about the issue.
*****
Yesterday, a good friend told me a story about his neighbors, Reg and Paula (not their real names). A week ago, Reg got a call from the State telling him that his ex-wife in Eugene had been arrested for dealing and possession of meth. His 8-year-old daughter was waiting for him to pick her up. He did so. She had two ear infections and head lice.
While it is good that this little girl is now in a more stable home—with Reg and Paula and their two small boys—what horrific neglect and abuse did she endure? Reg was told that while the police were surveying the house, drug dealers and buyers were coming and going at all hours. This little girl was in an extremely dangerous place. It is now up to her dad and step mom to provide a home of love and the potential for healing. It won’t be easy.
*****
Every day, in the news and in my own small corner of Oregon, I see so much non-love. Of course, for every agonizing question, there is a fundamentalist Christian answer (sin!), but it’s not good enough. I don’t see Christ’s love demonstrated by most fundamentalist Christians—all I see is judgment and self-righteousness. In fact, I’m beginning to think that fundamentalism itself is not a solution but a symptom of what’s wrong in the world.
What is fundamentalism exactly? Fundamentalism is usually applied to world-views or causes that have something good to offer the world and the individual. It attempts to create very specific rules, guidelines, policies, procedures, and processes in order to achieve a goal or a vision. However, this practice tends to choke the life out of something that can otherwise transform a person and provide a pathway for growth. Fundamentalism removes the innate humanity, mystery, freedom, and scalability of a world-view. Worst of all, fundamentalism is a hostile environment for the practice of love.
Among Christians of all types, other religions, atheists, and any cause or group you want to name, there is always some level of in-fighting and arrogant posturing. This arrogant posturing is another key component of fundamentalism. The posture of fundamentalism makes true love, relationship, and connection extremely difficult.
How does this happen?
The rules and guidelines created by fundamentalism attempt to make something complex and/or mysterious into something simple and tangible. I believe that removing this complexity makes us more apt to cling to the dogma—making the dogma itself a part of our identity. And when our dogma is questioned, our identity is questioned—we instinctually go on the attack. In the case of religious fundamentalism, we raise our dogma to the level of God. When our dogmas are challenged, God is challenged and must be strenuously defended. Thus, the posture of fundamentalism is one of defensiveness and (at its worst) arrogance.
Something that should be transforming us into more loving human beings turns us into defensive, arrogant, and unloving people.
It’s quite easy to find harmful examples of fundamentalist Christianity. Take, for example, the sexual abuse scandals that have plagued the Catholic church in recent years, as well as the Sovereign Grace Ministries sexual abuse scandals in the past few months. The posture of these institutions has been arrogant, indignant denial and public relations spin in order to protect those in power. They are so convinced of the correctness of their theology and dogma, that they seemingly will do whatever it takes to protect their reputation. Unfortunately, this comes at the expense of victims and potential victims of abuse.
A more recent (and less drastic) example of a fundamentalist act was seen when John Piper tweeted a verse in Job following the tornado devastation in Moore, Oklahoma. There have been differing opinions on what was actually meant by the tweet, but at best he showed lack of discernment and lack of empathy. He also has a habit of coming out with declarations of God’s wrath after tragedy, so naturally many people assumed this was just another example in his pattern.
There are countless examples of fundamentalism in Christianity—the poster children being the Westboro Baptist Church. Although they are the most extreme example, they are an object lesson of where fundamentalism can lead when taken to its logical conclusion.
I believe that a fundamentalist posture can infect anything, even a progressive cause that isn’t normally linked with the word. One recent example of a more progressive individual with a fundamentalist posture has been Tony Jones, who has been criticized for being arrogant and unwilling to listen. I have found a lot of good and helpful information in what Jones has written in the past. He has been a champion for the LGBTQ community in the church, and for that I am extremely grateful. But even though he has battled against fundamentalist Christianity, he has also displayed the posture of a fundamentalist, especially when it comes to women and their lack of a voice within the emergent church. This has been one of the most painful things for me to watch, personally, over the last six months.
Another progressive who has sometimes taken a fundamentalist posture is Dan Savage. Recently, Savage wrote a book review in the New York Times about Jeff Chu’s new book, Does Jesus Really Love Me?. In the review, Savage compares Andrew Marin and the work of the Marin Foundation to Westboro Baptist Church, except “with hugs.”
As a gay man, I appreciate the work Savage has done on behalf of so many. His “It Gets Better” campaign is well known and has raised awareness of the problem of bullying. However, as a Christian, I’ve also appreciated the work Marin has done to build bridges with evangelical Christians. Honestly, I find I agree more with Savage than I do with Marin. However, Marin’s work is specifically geared to those who are outright hostile to LGBTQ individuals and freedoms. He is working to raise awareness within the more conservative areas of the Christian church about how poorly Christians have treated LGBTQ folks. Marin’s work is especially vital for LGBTQ youth who are being raised in these types of churches. Unfortunately, with Marin, Savage has taken on a fundamentalist posture. He sees all of Christianity as damaging; therefore, in his opinion, Marin is doing damage by not following the same path as he does with his activism.
I have also seen this type of fundamentalist posture within both LGBTQ and Feminist communities.
First of all, I do identify as a Feminist. As a Feminist, I understand that I have a great deal of societal privilege simply because I am a man (and especially because I am white). I understand that patriarchy in our society is a real thing, and that misogyny both within and outside the church is pervasive. I am a participant in these systems, and I am trying to learn how to change that. I believe that Feminism is a Kingdom of God ideal that we as Christians should be striving toward.
However, as a gay man and as a novice Feminist, I’ve seen occasions in both LGBTQ and Feminist spaces where honest questions and curiosity were shut down just because the person was one of privilege; occasions where there was unwillingness to listen to honest criticism; and occasions where shame was used in an attempt to silence dissenting opinion. I’m guilty of it myself, probably more often than I realize.
One important note: there is an inherent danger when labeling someone as having a fundamentalist posture within any religion or cause. As a (self-proclaimed) Feminist and a gay man, I think strong pushback and calling out damaging behavior is appropriate more often than not. As Suzannah Paul put it to me, labeling someone as, for example, a fundamentalist Feminist “can be used to dismiss legitimate anger/perspectives, too. It is hard enough as a woman to get a hearing without being written off as emotional/angry/bitchy/irrational/dogmatic/etc.”
What is my point in all of this? I began this blog post with two specific examples of my direct experience with non-love. Our world needs love so desperately. As people who follow Christ, we have to figure out a better way to love.
But then, perhaps there is an inherent danger here as well? If we provide a specific rubric of behavior for every type of situation, won’t we just be re-creating another type of fundamentalism? There is a balance here that I don’t yet know how to strike. All I know from observing the world is that we are in desperate need of humble hearts, thick skin, and the Holy Spirit, whomever or whatever it is. The fine line we attempt to follow is indeed a narrow road.
The Bible is overflowing with passages about love. Love is mentioned over and over as the most important concept to grasp—the greatest of all things, greater even than faith and hope. I know that I personally, desperately, want a step-by-step procedural manual on how to do this well. But that, again, is a tendency to “fundamentalize” something that is too complex for rules.
There is so much risk involved by stepping outside of our various paradigms in order to love well. In the end, it’s something we must all individually choose to do. We can never force anyone else to love. To try to do so is just another act of fundamentalism.
Tweet
A couple of nights ago, someone smeared dog shit on her front door.
The message was fairly obvious: Clean up after your dog, bitch. This person chose a malicious act instead of sending an email (all residents have each other’s email addresses), posting a hand-written note to her door, or even talking to the HOA board about the issue.
*****
Yesterday, a good friend told me a story about his neighbors, Reg and Paula (not their real names). A week ago, Reg got a call from the State telling him that his ex-wife in Eugene had been arrested for dealing and possession of meth. His 8-year-old daughter was waiting for him to pick her up. He did so. She had two ear infections and head lice.
While it is good that this little girl is now in a more stable home—with Reg and Paula and their two small boys—what horrific neglect and abuse did she endure? Reg was told that while the police were surveying the house, drug dealers and buyers were coming and going at all hours. This little girl was in an extremely dangerous place. It is now up to her dad and step mom to provide a home of love and the potential for healing. It won’t be easy.
*****
Every day, in the news and in my own small corner of Oregon, I see so much non-love. Of course, for every agonizing question, there is a fundamentalist Christian answer (sin!), but it’s not good enough. I don’t see Christ’s love demonstrated by most fundamentalist Christians—all I see is judgment and self-righteousness. In fact, I’m beginning to think that fundamentalism itself is not a solution but a symptom of what’s wrong in the world.
What is fundamentalism exactly? Fundamentalism is usually applied to world-views or causes that have something good to offer the world and the individual. It attempts to create very specific rules, guidelines, policies, procedures, and processes in order to achieve a goal or a vision. However, this practice tends to choke the life out of something that can otherwise transform a person and provide a pathway for growth. Fundamentalism removes the innate humanity, mystery, freedom, and scalability of a world-view. Worst of all, fundamentalism is a hostile environment for the practice of love.
Among Christians of all types, other religions, atheists, and any cause or group you want to name, there is always some level of in-fighting and arrogant posturing. This arrogant posturing is another key component of fundamentalism. The posture of fundamentalism makes true love, relationship, and connection extremely difficult.
How does this happen?
The rules and guidelines created by fundamentalism attempt to make something complex and/or mysterious into something simple and tangible. I believe that removing this complexity makes us more apt to cling to the dogma—making the dogma itself a part of our identity. And when our dogma is questioned, our identity is questioned—we instinctually go on the attack. In the case of religious fundamentalism, we raise our dogma to the level of God. When our dogmas are challenged, God is challenged and must be strenuously defended. Thus, the posture of fundamentalism is one of defensiveness and (at its worst) arrogance.
Something that should be transforming us into more loving human beings turns us into defensive, arrogant, and unloving people.
It’s quite easy to find harmful examples of fundamentalist Christianity. Take, for example, the sexual abuse scandals that have plagued the Catholic church in recent years, as well as the Sovereign Grace Ministries sexual abuse scandals in the past few months. The posture of these institutions has been arrogant, indignant denial and public relations spin in order to protect those in power. They are so convinced of the correctness of their theology and dogma, that they seemingly will do whatever it takes to protect their reputation. Unfortunately, this comes at the expense of victims and potential victims of abuse.
A more recent (and less drastic) example of a fundamentalist act was seen when John Piper tweeted a verse in Job following the tornado devastation in Moore, Oklahoma. There have been differing opinions on what was actually meant by the tweet, but at best he showed lack of discernment and lack of empathy. He also has a habit of coming out with declarations of God’s wrath after tragedy, so naturally many people assumed this was just another example in his pattern.
There are countless examples of fundamentalism in Christianity—the poster children being the Westboro Baptist Church. Although they are the most extreme example, they are an object lesson of where fundamentalism can lead when taken to its logical conclusion.
I believe that a fundamentalist posture can infect anything, even a progressive cause that isn’t normally linked with the word. One recent example of a more progressive individual with a fundamentalist posture has been Tony Jones, who has been criticized for being arrogant and unwilling to listen. I have found a lot of good and helpful information in what Jones has written in the past. He has been a champion for the LGBTQ community in the church, and for that I am extremely grateful. But even though he has battled against fundamentalist Christianity, he has also displayed the posture of a fundamentalist, especially when it comes to women and their lack of a voice within the emergent church. This has been one of the most painful things for me to watch, personally, over the last six months.
Another progressive who has sometimes taken a fundamentalist posture is Dan Savage. Recently, Savage wrote a book review in the New York Times about Jeff Chu’s new book, Does Jesus Really Love Me?. In the review, Savage compares Andrew Marin and the work of the Marin Foundation to Westboro Baptist Church, except “with hugs.”
As a gay man, I appreciate the work Savage has done on behalf of so many. His “It Gets Better” campaign is well known and has raised awareness of the problem of bullying. However, as a Christian, I’ve also appreciated the work Marin has done to build bridges with evangelical Christians. Honestly, I find I agree more with Savage than I do with Marin. However, Marin’s work is specifically geared to those who are outright hostile to LGBTQ individuals and freedoms. He is working to raise awareness within the more conservative areas of the Christian church about how poorly Christians have treated LGBTQ folks. Marin’s work is especially vital for LGBTQ youth who are being raised in these types of churches. Unfortunately, with Marin, Savage has taken on a fundamentalist posture. He sees all of Christianity as damaging; therefore, in his opinion, Marin is doing damage by not following the same path as he does with his activism.
I have also seen this type of fundamentalist posture within both LGBTQ and Feminist communities.
First of all, I do identify as a Feminist. As a Feminist, I understand that I have a great deal of societal privilege simply because I am a man (and especially because I am white). I understand that patriarchy in our society is a real thing, and that misogyny both within and outside the church is pervasive. I am a participant in these systems, and I am trying to learn how to change that. I believe that Feminism is a Kingdom of God ideal that we as Christians should be striving toward.
However, as a gay man and as a novice Feminist, I’ve seen occasions in both LGBTQ and Feminist spaces where honest questions and curiosity were shut down just because the person was one of privilege; occasions where there was unwillingness to listen to honest criticism; and occasions where shame was used in an attempt to silence dissenting opinion. I’m guilty of it myself, probably more often than I realize.
One important note: there is an inherent danger when labeling someone as having a fundamentalist posture within any religion or cause. As a (self-proclaimed) Feminist and a gay man, I think strong pushback and calling out damaging behavior is appropriate more often than not. As Suzannah Paul put it to me, labeling someone as, for example, a fundamentalist Feminist “can be used to dismiss legitimate anger/perspectives, too. It is hard enough as a woman to get a hearing without being written off as emotional/angry/bitchy/irrational/dogmatic/etc.”
What is my point in all of this? I began this blog post with two specific examples of my direct experience with non-love. Our world needs love so desperately. As people who follow Christ, we have to figure out a better way to love.
But then, perhaps there is an inherent danger here as well? If we provide a specific rubric of behavior for every type of situation, won’t we just be re-creating another type of fundamentalism? There is a balance here that I don’t yet know how to strike. All I know from observing the world is that we are in desperate need of humble hearts, thick skin, and the Holy Spirit, whomever or whatever it is. The fine line we attempt to follow is indeed a narrow road.
The Bible is overflowing with passages about love. Love is mentioned over and over as the most important concept to grasp—the greatest of all things, greater even than faith and hope. I know that I personally, desperately, want a step-by-step procedural manual on how to do this well. But that, again, is a tendency to “fundamentalize” something that is too complex for rules.
There is so much risk involved by stepping outside of our various paradigms in order to love well. In the end, it’s something we must all individually choose to do. We can never force anyone else to love. To try to do so is just another act of fundamentalism.
Tweet
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Shadow
There are a lot of different blogging paradigms to choose from. Some writers are disciplined and focused enough to choose a paradigm and stick with it. They write in such a way that connects with readers. As someone messily slopping through life, I appreciate the work that these writers put into their work to make that connection.
On occasion I can write like that. More often I am not that disciplined. I want to tell the truth about myself and my experiences, but in such a way that it is helpful for others and not just as an “online journal.” Even if it simply encourages someone to know they aren’t alone, that’s a success.
I’m currently struggling with something specific, and I THINK it is useful to share because all of us struggle with this issue. We all call it something different, but through years of therapy I’ve chosen a name for it: my SHADOW.
I previously wrote about the Shadow concept at length:
*****
Any sort of exuberance, any sort of self-confidence, was not to be trusted and was therefore relegated to my Shadow. So, when I experienced other people exhibiting these traits (exuberance or self-confidence), a few things were happening, internally, in rapid succession:
So, here’s the deal: I am still tumbling around in this cycle. There are times when I think I’ve overcome negative feelings toward “exuberant and self-confident” people. The Shadow sneaks up on me, though, and prevents me from being the type of person I wish to be (i.e., a person who loves well). Let me give you two specific examples. For both Shadow examples, I explain the Case History and my attempt at Integration.
I love to sing. Whether it was church, school, the car, the shower, you name it. I’m always up for a karaoke night. When I moved to Portland, I started singing with the Portland Gay Men’s Chorus. PGMC was a great find for my partner and me; we made great friends by being involved in the organization, and I loved being a part of a singing group again. HOWEVER.
As time went on, my Shadow grew. I became more anxious and more self-critical, and projected this critical nature onto others. Along with the social anxiety, I found myself easily irritated and annoyed by others. I held onto odd resentments. It eventually became too much, and I decided to take a break, perhaps permanently, from the choir.
Integration: In Progress
Instead of shaming myself into oblivion for taking a break from the choir (“you are a quitter,” “you are a loser,” “you are socially awkward”), I realized that by taking the break, I was honoring some very real, if misdirected, feelings. Stepping back also gave me some space inside my head to do some soul-searching, which led to writing this blog. Now that I have a better understanding of what was happening internally during the last year or so of choir, I am planning to rejoin PGMC in the Fall!
I’ve found some amazing new friends through blogging. Whether I’ve met them directly through interaction on my blog, on other blogs, on Twitter, on Facebook, or a combination, I have been so encouraged to find other strugglers on the journey of faith, spirituality, and humanity. HOWEVER.
There is one person on this corner of the blogosphere who brings my Shadow into focus. (Don’t worry! It isn’t anyone who reads this blog, or anyone that I read/follow on Twitter or Facebook! No, it’s not Tony Jones! And no, I’m not going to tell you who it is!) This person seems to trigger everything inside me about which I feel ashamed. I understand that some of my annoyance and irritation is rational, because this person doesn’t exactly exude grace and humility. But the feelings are very familiar. It’s an overwhelming cycle of loathing and shame, loathing and shame.
Integration: Just Started
This particular “Shadow work” is on the forefront of my mind today. I am experiencing some very negative emotions, and because they are so raw I don’t know how to process them yet. Here’s what I’m doing, though. (1) Writing about it, vaguely, here. (2) Telling a few close friends so they can help me process.
*****
Readers: can you relate to these types of feelings? Do you know individuals who bring your Shadow into focus? What have you done about it? I’d love to hear your thoughts because I could sure use some advice!
Tweet
On occasion I can write like that. More often I am not that disciplined. I want to tell the truth about myself and my experiences, but in such a way that it is helpful for others and not just as an “online journal.” Even if it simply encourages someone to know they aren’t alone, that’s a success.
I’m currently struggling with something specific, and I THINK it is useful to share because all of us struggle with this issue. We all call it something different, but through years of therapy I’ve chosen a name for it: my SHADOW.
I previously wrote about the Shadow concept at length:
*****
Any sort of exuberance, any sort of self-confidence, was not to be trusted and was therefore relegated to my Shadow. So, when I experienced other people exhibiting these traits (exuberance or self-confidence), a few things were happening, internally, in rapid succession:
- I was seeing something that I had rejected in myself as bad.
- I was projecting this “badness” or “wrongness” onto the exuberant/self-confident person.
- I had a strong reaction of distaste and judgment toward them (and, in effect, toward myself).
- I had a longing to be like this person because it was a part of me I had neglected long ago. (I didn’t know the reason why at the moment; I only could feel the longing.)
- I hated myself for wanting to have these traits; for the jealousy and envy I felt.
- Because of the intense feeling of self-hatred, I started hating the person even more for making me feel so horrible.
So, here’s the deal: I am still tumbling around in this cycle. There are times when I think I’ve overcome negative feelings toward “exuberant and self-confident” people. The Shadow sneaks up on me, though, and prevents me from being the type of person I wish to be (i.e., a person who loves well). Let me give you two specific examples. For both Shadow examples, I explain the Case History and my attempt at Integration.
Shadow File 01
Case HistoryI love to sing. Whether it was church, school, the car, the shower, you name it. I’m always up for a karaoke night. When I moved to Portland, I started singing with the Portland Gay Men’s Chorus. PGMC was a great find for my partner and me; we made great friends by being involved in the organization, and I loved being a part of a singing group again. HOWEVER.
As time went on, my Shadow grew. I became more anxious and more self-critical, and projected this critical nature onto others. Along with the social anxiety, I found myself easily irritated and annoyed by others. I held onto odd resentments. It eventually became too much, and I decided to take a break, perhaps permanently, from the choir.
Integration: In Progress
Instead of shaming myself into oblivion for taking a break from the choir (“you are a quitter,” “you are a loser,” “you are socially awkward”), I realized that by taking the break, I was honoring some very real, if misdirected, feelings. Stepping back also gave me some space inside my head to do some soul-searching, which led to writing this blog. Now that I have a better understanding of what was happening internally during the last year or so of choir, I am planning to rejoin PGMC in the Fall!
Shadow File 02
Case HistoryI’ve found some amazing new friends through blogging. Whether I’ve met them directly through interaction on my blog, on other blogs, on Twitter, on Facebook, or a combination, I have been so encouraged to find other strugglers on the journey of faith, spirituality, and humanity. HOWEVER.
There is one person on this corner of the blogosphere who brings my Shadow into focus. (Don’t worry! It isn’t anyone who reads this blog, or anyone that I read/follow on Twitter or Facebook! No, it’s not Tony Jones! And no, I’m not going to tell you who it is!) This person seems to trigger everything inside me about which I feel ashamed. I understand that some of my annoyance and irritation is rational, because this person doesn’t exactly exude grace and humility. But the feelings are very familiar. It’s an overwhelming cycle of loathing and shame, loathing and shame.
Integration: Just Started
This particular “Shadow work” is on the forefront of my mind today. I am experiencing some very negative emotions, and because they are so raw I don’t know how to process them yet. Here’s what I’m doing, though. (1) Writing about it, vaguely, here. (2) Telling a few close friends so they can help me process.
*****
Readers: can you relate to these types of feelings? Do you know individuals who bring your Shadow into focus? What have you done about it? I’d love to hear your thoughts because I could sure use some advice!
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Monday, May 20, 2013
The Old Voice
This blog post was originally going to be a reflection on the book The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck. (Highly recommended!) However, I found it difficult to write about the book without hearing that old Conservative Evangelical warning voice inside my head. So, instead of a book reflection, I offer an example of a typical inner dialogue that occurs whenever I process something that challenges my old way of thinking about God.
Reading, thinking about, and writing about the first seven chapters of Matthew was a wonderful experience for me. I’ve stepped back from the Blogging the Gospels series for now; not because there was a lack of material to write about, but because there is too much. Currently I’ve felt the need to gain some modern context by reading writers who try to follow a Jesus or Jesus-like way.
Old Conservative Evangelical Voice (OCEV):
Ooooh that is an extremely dangerous and unwise! The Bible is where you will find absolute truth! It’s folly to choose to read others’ works over the Word of God!
Me:
Well, actually OCEV, I’m going to listen to my intuition and read things that are a bit more accessible to me right now: books and blogs that contribute to my spiritual growth and knowledge—that portray an honest journey of struggling with God and faith, and/or people who can share what they have learned by a lifetime of slogging through it.
OCEV:
More danger! Don’t listen to your “intuition”! Filthy rags filthy rags! Don’t trust yourself! Trust God!
Me:
Funny you should say that, OCEV. I think that trusting God is what I’m actually doing when I trust that intuition. I trusted your shaming voice for way too long. It’s gotten me nowhere except sitting in a corner, paralyzed with fear, helpful to no one.
OCEV:
Oh, so that’s what you’re doing now, huh? You believe your intuition is the voice of God? Sounds to me like you are going so far as to say you yourself are God. Hm. Guess what. That’s what Lucifer wanted: to be like God. No…even more than that: he wanted to BE God. This sin of pride was the beginning of sin and rebellion! These ideas you are beginning to trust? They are nothing less than Satanic! What do you say to that??
Me:
Heh, yeah I definitely used to believe that OCEV. And I agree with you, in part, that pride is a very nasty thing. When taken to an extreme—when one has lost all ability to listen to others, to question oneself, to possess intellectual humility—it can turn someone into a monster. Regarding your point about Lucifer, I believe that the myth of Lucifer and his fall have to do not with his desire to be God, but his desire to have the same power and authority as God without doing any of the hard work of spiritual growth. It is true that with spiritual growth there does come power. That power, however, is the power to love others and to love them well. This powerful love is personified in Jesus, as well as in others (Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. come to mind).
OCEV:
But spiritual growth isn’t “hard work”! That’s legalism! Spiritual growth is found only by submitting absolutely to Christ and the Bible alone! And what is this talk of “myth”?? You are treading on dangerous ground by labeling stories in the Bible as myth. And how dare you compare mere men to Jesus Christ! Gandhi wasn’t even a Christian!!
Me:
I’m having a hard time keeping up with you (as always), but let me address each of your concerns one by one.
Well, you’ve obviously gone off the deep end. I can partially agree with you regarding #1; I could even stomach your point in #2. But questioning the existence of heaven and hell? Of an afterlife??? Now I’m the one who can’t keep up…with your dangerously heretical “journey.”
Me:
You don’t have to keep up. In fact I wish you wouldn’t.
OCEV:
My voice may be fading, but you can bet I’ll continue to try to be heard. My voice can be heard everywhere: on the news, on the internet (especially in the comment sections of some of your favorite bloggers), and in the people you come across, just to name a few. I don’t give up that easily.
Me:
Neither do I, anymore. Bring it on.
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Reading, thinking about, and writing about the first seven chapters of Matthew was a wonderful experience for me. I’ve stepped back from the Blogging the Gospels series for now; not because there was a lack of material to write about, but because there is too much. Currently I’ve felt the need to gain some modern context by reading writers who try to follow a Jesus or Jesus-like way.
Old Conservative Evangelical Voice (OCEV):
Ooooh that is an extremely dangerous and unwise! The Bible is where you will find absolute truth! It’s folly to choose to read others’ works over the Word of God!
Me:
Well, actually OCEV, I’m going to listen to my intuition and read things that are a bit more accessible to me right now: books and blogs that contribute to my spiritual growth and knowledge—that portray an honest journey of struggling with God and faith, and/or people who can share what they have learned by a lifetime of slogging through it.
OCEV:
More danger! Don’t listen to your “intuition”! Filthy rags filthy rags! Don’t trust yourself! Trust God!
Me:
Funny you should say that, OCEV. I think that trusting God is what I’m actually doing when I trust that intuition. I trusted your shaming voice for way too long. It’s gotten me nowhere except sitting in a corner, paralyzed with fear, helpful to no one.
OCEV:
Oh, so that’s what you’re doing now, huh? You believe your intuition is the voice of God? Sounds to me like you are going so far as to say you yourself are God. Hm. Guess what. That’s what Lucifer wanted: to be like God. No…even more than that: he wanted to BE God. This sin of pride was the beginning of sin and rebellion! These ideas you are beginning to trust? They are nothing less than Satanic! What do you say to that??
Me:
Heh, yeah I definitely used to believe that OCEV. And I agree with you, in part, that pride is a very nasty thing. When taken to an extreme—when one has lost all ability to listen to others, to question oneself, to possess intellectual humility—it can turn someone into a monster. Regarding your point about Lucifer, I believe that the myth of Lucifer and his fall have to do not with his desire to be God, but his desire to have the same power and authority as God without doing any of the hard work of spiritual growth. It is true that with spiritual growth there does come power. That power, however, is the power to love others and to love them well. This powerful love is personified in Jesus, as well as in others (Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. come to mind).
OCEV:
But spiritual growth isn’t “hard work”! That’s legalism! Spiritual growth is found only by submitting absolutely to Christ and the Bible alone! And what is this talk of “myth”?? You are treading on dangerous ground by labeling stories in the Bible as myth. And how dare you compare mere men to Jesus Christ! Gandhi wasn’t even a Christian!!
Me:
I’m having a hard time keeping up with you (as always), but let me address each of your concerns one by one.
- Then tension between “passive submission to God” vs. “take up your cross and follow me” and “my yoke is easy and my burden is light” has always been a stumbling block for me. I remember in a singles Bible study group one evening I asked, “so are we just supposed to hang limp and allow God to move us like a marionette?” Obviously not, but no one could provide a good answer as to the proper posture toward a God who was supposed to control everything and who pre-ordained the universe. This confusion was a big reason why I have looked outside of the Bible for answers, to other people who have asked these questions. This search has not narrowed my view of God, but expanded it. The journey has awakened a spiritual hunger for a God who is both bigger and tinier than my imagination can fathom. Most importantly, it has led me to understand the staggering importance of love and connection.
- What is wrong with using the word “myth”? A myth is a story that communicates a deep, core truth about humanity. You know what other word to which this definition applies? Parable. That’s how Jesus taught in the Bible.
- These individuals have come as close as anyone else to living out the ideals and principles of Christ. Observe how much has been accomplished through their love and humility. If there is an afterlife, and if there is a heaven/hell division, and these individuals aren’t living in the heaven-side? I don’t want to be a part of it.
Well, you’ve obviously gone off the deep end. I can partially agree with you regarding #1; I could even stomach your point in #2. But questioning the existence of heaven and hell? Of an afterlife??? Now I’m the one who can’t keep up…with your dangerously heretical “journey.”
Me:
You don’t have to keep up. In fact I wish you wouldn’t.
OCEV:
My voice may be fading, but you can bet I’ll continue to try to be heard. My voice can be heard everywhere: on the news, on the internet (especially in the comment sections of some of your favorite bloggers), and in the people you come across, just to name a few. I don’t give up that easily.
Me:
Neither do I, anymore. Bring it on.
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Sunday, May 12, 2013
Evil and Love
“The more clearly we see the reality of the world, the better equipped we are to deal with the world.”
- M. Scott Peck, The Road Less Traveled
On April 19, 1995, I was home (which at that time was Toledo, Ohio) watching The Price is Right. I was in the kitchen when I heard the news update: an explosion occurred in Oklahoma City with many feared injured. No deaths reported so far. It didn’t sound too bad, but because I grew up in Oklahoma, the news was jarring. I quickly switched over to CNN to see if there was more information.
At first, the news had an optimistic tone. CNN cut to a local Oklahoma City newscast, because they were on site. I remember vividly the news anchor’s shaky voice as he talked to the reporter on the street. The reporter said it was hard to see and couldn’t confirm anything specific, but they had heard of only 2 or 3 injuries and no fatalities. The news anchor was saying things like, “Oh, thank you Jesus” and “Oh Jesus please let everything be OK.” As he continued the commentary, he was talking about the “most important things in life” and all but led the audience in the Sinner’s Prayer!
Of course the scope of what actually happened was much worse than at first feared. 168 people died, including 19 children under the age of 6. And it was no accident. It was an act of domestic terrorism. Somebody did this on purpose. I was just over 20 years old when it happened—old enough to be aware of the world around me—but that event was really the first time I fully comprehended the devastation of evil.
What am I referring to, specifically, when I use the word evil?
That day was over 18 years ago. Maybe because I’m getting older; maybe because social media technology connects us, quickly, to a larger scope of information. But for whatever reason, ever since that day, it seems that bone-chilling, gut-wrenching horrors are happening one right after the other, with shorter lapses of time between each event. There’s barely enough time to catch one’s breath—let alone try to process—before the next tragedy or unspeakable discovery is breaking news.
II.
PLEASE NOTE: in this section, I describe in some detail some horrible recent events including Newtown, Boston, and the Cleveland kidnapping. Skip to section III if you'd rather not read this section.
This year has been especially evil.
It was shocking news in Oregon (where I live now) when the report surfaced of a mass shooting in a mall near Portland. But not even a week had passed when we heard about the murders at Sandy Hook in Newtown, CT.
Honestly, the tragedy in Newtown affected me just as deeply and profoundly as September 11. Perhaps more so; children were specifically targeted and murdered. It’s still too much to take in. I don’t know how others process tragedy and horror, but I try to put myself in the shoes of those affected. I’ve tried to remember what it was like when I was in kindergarten, and how I would have felt hearing gunshots, hiding, or if I saw someone with a gun enter my classroom and then…hell. Although I’m not a parent, I’ve tried to think how it would feel if my children were inside; how it would feel if my children were murdered; how would I feel if my children survived.
Then another horrific act occurred—this time at the Boston Marathon. Not as many fatalities, but hundreds of serious injuries including the loss of limbs.
These tragedies affect us so deeply because we can’t imagine the pain, let alone imagine purposefully causing that pain.
Most recently, the news has been detailing the escape of the women who were imprisoned against their will in Cleveland. Unspeakable crimes were perpetrated against these women, held captive against their will for TEN FUCKING YEARS. How long is 10 years? It is 520 weeks; or 3,640 days; or 87,360 hours. Living in terrible fear. Being degraded and violated. Not being around anyone who loved them or held them or comforted them. In constant turmoil. Often starved. Often raped. Often beaten. Often chained.
** UPDATE: Since I wrote this post, there has been YET ANOTHER mass shooting, this time in New Orleans during a Mother's Day parade. Twelve were killed. **
Every year it seems to get worse and worse. When will it stop?
III.
Why is there evil in the world? Being a good evangelical, I used to have a quick and easy answer for that: sin. It’s a short, quick answer to end what should be an agonizing search. Furthermore, it is an coldly theological answer to a question that cries out for a response from us that is much deeper and much more human. While there is definitely something broken about our world and within humanity—one could call this “sin” as the Bible does—simply labeling the problem (and then dismissing it as something from which we have been saved) separates us from those who suffer and prevents us from truly loving them. We separate and disconnect from them, labeling them the Other.
One can see this separation in evangelical Christianity today. There is little regard for the poor, the oppressed, or the marginalized. There is little regard for making the world a better place than when we found it. Since we have been “saved,” we are going to heaven and we don’t need to worry anymore about all the horrible things in the world, because somehow God is going to make everything right again. This view blinds Christians to the injustice in the world, and prevents us from truly loving. Being unloving means that we either hate the Other or are indifferent to the Other.
If we don’t love people, we do not have connection with people. This lack of love and connection is a primary reason that there is so much evil in the world. When we feel a connection with someone, it means that when they hurt, we hurt. Who would bully those with whom they felt a true connection? Would we ever purposefully cause pain to them? Would anyone denigrate, violate, rape, torture, and murder those they love?
Please know that I am NOT equating evangelical Christians with bullies, sadists, murderers, rapists, etc. I know many Christians, evangelical and otherwise, who are full of love for others and for the world. They mourn heartache and loss and suffering. They question why and struggle daily. What I am referring to is a potential hatred/indifference for the Other that can occur (and often do occur) in people who call themselves Christians.
IV.
As Christians, when presented with the reality of evil, we have some choices on how to deal with it:
1. Accept It
Our basic humanity doesn’t allow us to be completely cold in the event of disaster, so there is still some mourning that takes place when we choose to simply accept the reality of evil. However, this choice also involves repressing more intense emotions such as rage, confusion, and disillusionment in the name of “submitting” to God. For a long time I tried to follow option #1. I thought it was the right thing to do, following Job as the ultimate model of submission to God and his seemingly-random-like wrath and non-intervention.
2. Blame Something Other than God
There are many things we blame for evil in the world. We’ve already talked about the concept of sin, where mankind’s rebellion incurs God’s wrath. Reacting in this manner helps to ease the existential blow: no matter how good and moral one is, everyone deserves God’s wrath (insert proof-text Romans 3:23 here). Specific “sins” and/or “sinners” can also be cited, such as homosexuality, sexual promiscuity, feminism, other religions, or an opposing political party or politician, just to name a few. Other times, the blame is placed on Satan and demonic activity. Often, both the devil and our sin are blamed.
3. Rage Against God
Because our world is riddled with evil, many (if not most) Christians do find themselves at this stage occasionally. In our rage, we are fully connecting with our emotions and our humanity, and crying out to God to stop suffering and injustice. Being “mad at God” is, in actuality, an emotion that can bring us closer to God. God is big enough to handle our rage.
Most Christians react to evil using options #1 and #2. Many try option #3, yet with reservations and withholding of their truest, rawest emotions. Others just can’t make themselves believe anymore, so they are forced with a decision. Do they stop believing in God or adjust their view of God?
4. Stop Believing in God
One reason someone stops believing in God is the inability to reconcile the reality of evil with what one has been taught about God. (There are other reasons people stop believing in God, but the problem of evil is the focus of this piece.) This choice does not make someone a bad person. It is an honest, human response to available criteria.
I do not know much about atheism, and I hesitate to describe what an atheist actually “believes” for fear that I will oversimplify or explain atheism incorrectly and/or condescendingly. I have a large handful of friends who are atheists (and probably more that I don’t know about), and of these people none of them are nihilists. They have moral and ethical codes by which they live; some call themselves spiritual. For one reason or another, the label of atheism fits them most comfortably.
5. Adjust View of God
Still others go through periods of adjustment in their view of God. I believe that options #4 and #5 are iterative in that they can often be repeated and merged.
V.
Because none of us have actually had a one-on-one, face-to-face conversation with God, anyone who has ever believed in God constructs a view of God in their minds. Because we are finite beings, the construction of God in our minds is inevitably limited.
An evangelical Christian may argue that Jesus and/or the Holy Spirit tells us exactly what we need to know through the Bible. Our view of God must be constructed by the Word of God and the Holy Spirit, they say. However, how do we know what interpretation of the Bible is correct? How do we know when the Holy Spirit is speaking? There are thousands of denominations of Christian churches alone. There are thousands of different religions that claim truth. I believe it is necessary, as Christians, to continually alter our view of God based on new information and experiences. We must continue to question what we think we know. We have to courageously face reality.
By becoming more aware of the reality of evil in the world, my view of God has adjusted radically throughout the years. I chose option #4 for a number of years; for me, that was a necessary step in my own spiritual journey. If I was to believe in God again, option #5 was also absolutely necessary. My view of God today is one of much more mystery. For example, it’s very difficult for me to believe that God is an interventionist, based on the horrors that continue to plague humanity. In the face of evil, I still often go with option #3. More importantly, evil reminds us how much this world needs true love and connection. It is a call to follow the way of Jesus for both inner healing and eventual healing of our world. It is the hope of the Kingdom of God. It is this concept of love that helps me continue to choose to live as a Christian.
UPDATE: Zack Hunt (a.k.a. The American Jesus) published a great piece at A Deeper Story called The Problem of Evil is Hanging in Your Closet. Something practical we can do to decrease the evil in the world!
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- M. Scott Peck, The Road Less Traveled
On April 19, 1995, I was home (which at that time was Toledo, Ohio) watching The Price is Right. I was in the kitchen when I heard the news update: an explosion occurred in Oklahoma City with many feared injured. No deaths reported so far. It didn’t sound too bad, but because I grew up in Oklahoma, the news was jarring. I quickly switched over to CNN to see if there was more information.
At first, the news had an optimistic tone. CNN cut to a local Oklahoma City newscast, because they were on site. I remember vividly the news anchor’s shaky voice as he talked to the reporter on the street. The reporter said it was hard to see and couldn’t confirm anything specific, but they had heard of only 2 or 3 injuries and no fatalities. The news anchor was saying things like, “Oh, thank you Jesus” and “Oh Jesus please let everything be OK.” As he continued the commentary, he was talking about the “most important things in life” and all but led the audience in the Sinner’s Prayer!
Of course the scope of what actually happened was much worse than at first feared. 168 people died, including 19 children under the age of 6. And it was no accident. It was an act of domestic terrorism. Somebody did this on purpose. I was just over 20 years old when it happened—old enough to be aware of the world around me—but that event was really the first time I fully comprehended the devastation of evil.
What am I referring to, specifically, when I use the word evil?
- An evil doer is one who purposely abuses, causes pain, murders, or otherwise harms other human beings (or, for that matter, animals).
- An evil act is something that causes horrific, intolerable, unbearable circumstances which cause profound suffering and, often, death.
- Therefore, evil is an adjective that describes something that purposefully and maliciously causes pain, suffering, and death.
That day was over 18 years ago. Maybe because I’m getting older; maybe because social media technology connects us, quickly, to a larger scope of information. But for whatever reason, ever since that day, it seems that bone-chilling, gut-wrenching horrors are happening one right after the other, with shorter lapses of time between each event. There’s barely enough time to catch one’s breath—let alone try to process—before the next tragedy or unspeakable discovery is breaking news.
II.
PLEASE NOTE: in this section, I describe in some detail some horrible recent events including Newtown, Boston, and the Cleveland kidnapping. Skip to section III if you'd rather not read this section.
This year has been especially evil.
It was shocking news in Oregon (where I live now) when the report surfaced of a mass shooting in a mall near Portland. But not even a week had passed when we heard about the murders at Sandy Hook in Newtown, CT.
Honestly, the tragedy in Newtown affected me just as deeply and profoundly as September 11. Perhaps more so; children were specifically targeted and murdered. It’s still too much to take in. I don’t know how others process tragedy and horror, but I try to put myself in the shoes of those affected. I’ve tried to remember what it was like when I was in kindergarten, and how I would have felt hearing gunshots, hiding, or if I saw someone with a gun enter my classroom and then…hell. Although I’m not a parent, I’ve tried to think how it would feel if my children were inside; how it would feel if my children were murdered; how would I feel if my children survived.
Then another horrific act occurred—this time at the Boston Marathon. Not as many fatalities, but hundreds of serious injuries including the loss of limbs.
These tragedies affect us so deeply because we can’t imagine the pain, let alone imagine purposefully causing that pain.
Most recently, the news has been detailing the escape of the women who were imprisoned against their will in Cleveland. Unspeakable crimes were perpetrated against these women, held captive against their will for TEN FUCKING YEARS. How long is 10 years? It is 520 weeks; or 3,640 days; or 87,360 hours. Living in terrible fear. Being degraded and violated. Not being around anyone who loved them or held them or comforted them. In constant turmoil. Often starved. Often raped. Often beaten. Often chained.
** UPDATE: Since I wrote this post, there has been YET ANOTHER mass shooting, this time in New Orleans during a Mother's Day parade. Twelve were killed. **
Every year it seems to get worse and worse. When will it stop?
III.
Why is there evil in the world? Being a good evangelical, I used to have a quick and easy answer for that: sin. It’s a short, quick answer to end what should be an agonizing search. Furthermore, it is an coldly theological answer to a question that cries out for a response from us that is much deeper and much more human. While there is definitely something broken about our world and within humanity—one could call this “sin” as the Bible does—simply labeling the problem (and then dismissing it as something from which we have been saved) separates us from those who suffer and prevents us from truly loving them. We separate and disconnect from them, labeling them the Other.
One can see this separation in evangelical Christianity today. There is little regard for the poor, the oppressed, or the marginalized. There is little regard for making the world a better place than when we found it. Since we have been “saved,” we are going to heaven and we don’t need to worry anymore about all the horrible things in the world, because somehow God is going to make everything right again. This view blinds Christians to the injustice in the world, and prevents us from truly loving. Being unloving means that we either hate the Other or are indifferent to the Other.
If we don’t love people, we do not have connection with people. This lack of love and connection is a primary reason that there is so much evil in the world. When we feel a connection with someone, it means that when they hurt, we hurt. Who would bully those with whom they felt a true connection? Would we ever purposefully cause pain to them? Would anyone denigrate, violate, rape, torture, and murder those they love?
Please know that I am NOT equating evangelical Christians with bullies, sadists, murderers, rapists, etc. I know many Christians, evangelical and otherwise, who are full of love for others and for the world. They mourn heartache and loss and suffering. They question why and struggle daily. What I am referring to is a potential hatred/indifference for the Other that can occur (and often do occur) in people who call themselves Christians.
IV.
As Christians, when presented with the reality of evil, we have some choices on how to deal with it:
1. Accept It
Our basic humanity doesn’t allow us to be completely cold in the event of disaster, so there is still some mourning that takes place when we choose to simply accept the reality of evil. However, this choice also involves repressing more intense emotions such as rage, confusion, and disillusionment in the name of “submitting” to God. For a long time I tried to follow option #1. I thought it was the right thing to do, following Job as the ultimate model of submission to God and his seemingly-random-like wrath and non-intervention.
2. Blame Something Other than God
There are many things we blame for evil in the world. We’ve already talked about the concept of sin, where mankind’s rebellion incurs God’s wrath. Reacting in this manner helps to ease the existential blow: no matter how good and moral one is, everyone deserves God’s wrath (insert proof-text Romans 3:23 here). Specific “sins” and/or “sinners” can also be cited, such as homosexuality, sexual promiscuity, feminism, other religions, or an opposing political party or politician, just to name a few. Other times, the blame is placed on Satan and demonic activity. Often, both the devil and our sin are blamed.
3. Rage Against God
Because our world is riddled with evil, many (if not most) Christians do find themselves at this stage occasionally. In our rage, we are fully connecting with our emotions and our humanity, and crying out to God to stop suffering and injustice. Being “mad at God” is, in actuality, an emotion that can bring us closer to God. God is big enough to handle our rage.
Most Christians react to evil using options #1 and #2. Many try option #3, yet with reservations and withholding of their truest, rawest emotions. Others just can’t make themselves believe anymore, so they are forced with a decision. Do they stop believing in God or adjust their view of God?
4. Stop Believing in God
One reason someone stops believing in God is the inability to reconcile the reality of evil with what one has been taught about God. (There are other reasons people stop believing in God, but the problem of evil is the focus of this piece.) This choice does not make someone a bad person. It is an honest, human response to available criteria.
I do not know much about atheism, and I hesitate to describe what an atheist actually “believes” for fear that I will oversimplify or explain atheism incorrectly and/or condescendingly. I have a large handful of friends who are atheists (and probably more that I don’t know about), and of these people none of them are nihilists. They have moral and ethical codes by which they live; some call themselves spiritual. For one reason or another, the label of atheism fits them most comfortably.
5. Adjust View of God
Still others go through periods of adjustment in their view of God. I believe that options #4 and #5 are iterative in that they can often be repeated and merged.
V.
Because none of us have actually had a one-on-one, face-to-face conversation with God, anyone who has ever believed in God constructs a view of God in their minds. Because we are finite beings, the construction of God in our minds is inevitably limited.
An evangelical Christian may argue that Jesus and/or the Holy Spirit tells us exactly what we need to know through the Bible. Our view of God must be constructed by the Word of God and the Holy Spirit, they say. However, how do we know what interpretation of the Bible is correct? How do we know when the Holy Spirit is speaking? There are thousands of denominations of Christian churches alone. There are thousands of different religions that claim truth. I believe it is necessary, as Christians, to continually alter our view of God based on new information and experiences. We must continue to question what we think we know. We have to courageously face reality.
By becoming more aware of the reality of evil in the world, my view of God has adjusted radically throughout the years. I chose option #4 for a number of years; for me, that was a necessary step in my own spiritual journey. If I was to believe in God again, option #5 was also absolutely necessary. My view of God today is one of much more mystery. For example, it’s very difficult for me to believe that God is an interventionist, based on the horrors that continue to plague humanity. In the face of evil, I still often go with option #3. More importantly, evil reminds us how much this world needs true love and connection. It is a call to follow the way of Jesus for both inner healing and eventual healing of our world. It is the hope of the Kingdom of God. It is this concept of love that helps me continue to choose to live as a Christian.
UPDATE: Zack Hunt (a.k.a. The American Jesus) published a great piece at A Deeper Story called The Problem of Evil is Hanging in Your Closet. Something practical we can do to decrease the evil in the world!
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