“But we’re not all like that!”

Straight Ally Flag

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

By Josef Seibel (Portrait of two young women) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D, 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.

Lust and the Problem of Thought-Policing

By Soffie Hicks from Wales (Lust) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Lust: The Seven Deadly Sins, by Soffie Hicks

Rachel Held Evans’ recent post on Elizabeth Smart and purity culture gave many of us a lot to think about.  I don’t always read the comments on her blog, as there are often so many and it can be tough to wade through them.  But after I posted a comment myself, I received this comment in reply.  Essentially, the person responding to what some of us had posted was trying to make a case against masturbation based on the idea that sexual fantasy is wrong and equivalent to “lust.”

This is something I believe bears examination because Christians (particularly of the conservative evangelical flavor) have an unhealthy relationship with the word lust.  I’ve seen just about every interpretation of the word, and it makes me cringe nearly every time.  I have to stop myself from leaving comments on Christian blogs that say things like, “You need to go back to high school health class” or “I recommend a good physiology lesson” or “Please just check dictionary.com before you try to parse the word” or “You’re making this up as you go along, aren’t you?”  If I had a dime for every time I saw one of the following “definitions” of lust, I’d be living on my own tropical island:

  • Lust is a desire to possess someone
  • Lust is sexual fantasy
  • Lust is being sexually attracted to someone you’re not married to
  • Lust is always an unhealthy reaction
  • Lust is an overblown desire
  • Lust is making someone an object
  • Lust is obsession

Deep sigh.  No, no, no, no, no, no, and also no.  All of those have been used as tools to control people’s sexuality, including by progressive Christians.  On the more liberal end, many feminist Christians use the word lust to mean that if one is sexually aroused by seeing an attractive person, one should not then take that home and fantasize while masturbating.  (And I would go one further–they usually mean men should not do this because it’s “creepy.”)  Meanwhile, on the conservative end, it’s been used for pretty much everything under the sun, from policing women’s clothes to policing boys’ erections.  Any sexual practices the church dislikes often get lumped into the lust category.  Oh, you’re attracted to people of the same sex?  Lust!  Oh, you had a sexy thought about your boyfriend? Lust!  Oh, you got hard in the middle of math class? Must have been lust!

None of those are the dictionary definition, nor are they found in the Bible.

According to the dictionary, lust is intense desire, and it isn’t limited to sex.  One can lust for power or food or money as well.  Additionally, it isn’t always negative, though in Christian circles it certainly has been used that way.  For example, one might describe an exuberant person who lives to the full as having a “lust for life.”  In that context, it’s intended as a good thing.

As for what the Bible says, that’s another matter entirely.  Jesus’ comparison of lust and adultery has been used to club people over the head every bit as much as the anti-gay “clobber” passages.  In fact, it’s been used both to rob women of their agency (by blaming lust on “immodesty”) and to shame men for so much as glancing at a woman in a bikini.  Among more progressive Christians, it’s been used in roughly the same way, unfortunately, with the added bonus that some feminist Christians seem to have a particular inclination to believe that if men just control their “lust” then violence against women will stop.  (Sadly, since “lust” is not the root cause of violence against women, I fear that’s a losing battle.)  Lust is equated with a power differential and a desire to reduce people to objects for our own pleasure.

Not being a Biblical scholar, I had to look it up.  As it turns out, the word “lust” is probably not an accurate translation for what Jesus meant when he said,

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Do not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” (Matthew 5:27-28 NIV)

As it happens, the Greek word is the same word as the one for “covet.”  Now, I’m sure that at least some of my fellow feminists know that, and that’s why they’ve defined “lust” as obsessive, objectifying, or possessive.  But I’m going to argue here that the reason it bothers some women that (again, men) might fantasize about women they’ve seen has nothing to do with whether or not those men actually want to have sex with them.  It has more to do with the objectification.  That’s at a valid argument, to an extent, but it has nothing whatsoever to do with what Jesus said.  The specific thing being warned against is not objectification but possession–the desire to have or own something that does not belong to you–and a general approach to women which includes the intent to possess.

That’s an important distinction to make.  There is a big difference between being aroused by a sexy person on the beach (and even fantasizing about it later) and going to the beach with the intent to troll for people to fantasize about.  In the former, it’s a response to an unanticipated stimulus; in the latter, it’s an intentional search for the stimulus.  Intent matters–it means something.

We need to stop thinking about God as some kind of Cosmic Thought Cop, and we need to stop policing each other.  The way it looks to me is that both ends of the Christian spectrum seem to have an unhealthy obsession themselves with controlling other people.  Stomping your feet and demanding that people stop having sexual fantasies about actual humans is cut from the same cloth as expecting people to never have any sexual thoughts until they are properly married, and then only ever about their spouses.  In both cases, it’s not about anyone’s behavior or intent, it’s merely about the pictures in their heads.  We can–and should–have a conversation about whether what’s in one’s thoughts might translate to behavior.  But it won’t be productive until we stop trying to control every last brain wave that we find personally bothersome.

For more on this topic, I suggest reading “Whoever Looks at a Woman With Lust”: Misinterpreted Bible Passages #1.  It’s pretty straight cis male-centric, though, so keep that in mind as you read–not everything in there is universally applicable.

What our boys learn

Yesterday, Emily Wierenga apologized.  I’m glad, because she owed it to those who were hurt by her original post about relationships and submission.  There were several reasons why I didn’t respond to the first post.  First, I was late to the game.  I’d been on vacation when it appeared, so I missed it–all I saw was the fallout.  Second, plenty of others had already written what needed to be said.  Third, I already didn’t care much for her theology or her title of “Everyday Radical” (she’s not particularly radical); I really couldn’t figure out why everyone was so surprised by her words.

I don’t want to go around and around about the original post.  I will say that no matter how “heartfelt” or sincere-sounding her apology, she still has problematic theology that she refuses to acknowledge.  I’m glad she understands how hurtful her words were, but she also needs to examine her beliefs a lot more closely.  Her original post was addressed to people like me–Christian feminists.  It was not a rallying cry for people who share her views but something written to those of us she feels are outside that theology.  Therefore, I see no need to extend some kind of olive branch in her direction.  I don’t stand with Emily or people who share her beliefs, despite the fact that we may all call ourselves Christians.  As a woman, as a feminist, and as a Christian, I have a responsibility to address things that contribute to the way women are seen in the church.  That includes speaking out against the patriarchal leanings of other writers–whether those people are men or women.  The fact that we both have vaginas in no way obligates me to some kind of womanly solidarity.

When I saw that Emily was offering an apology, I was glad; I believed she was doing the right thing–until I read a couple of paragraphs down.  These words made my blood boil:

I didn’t know the way I would cry at night for fear of sending my boys to school, for all of the school shootings and drugs but not only that: for the way they wouldn’t be taught how to be strong leaders, but rather, would be questioned about their gender, made guilty for the way their kind had treated women in the past, and told that they could be attracted to either males or females because there was no male or female: there just was.

I’m not going to waste time on the rest of her apology; it wasn’t bad, though I think she still needs to consider the implications of her original post beyond its triggering effect.  No, I want to address what I quoted above.  I am the mother of a nine-year-old boy who attends public school; there has never once been a time when I have been afraid that he would be taught any of those things Emily mentions:

1. They wouldn’t be taught how to be strong leaders

First of all, that’s not the job of the school.  The job of the school is to teach our children how to read and write and do sums.  If we want any of our children–sons or daughters–to be “strong leaders,” then we must take responsibility as their parents.  Not only that, this desire to have (in particular boys) become strong leaders ignores the fact that not everyone has a personality suited to “leadership” (at least, not the way it’s defined in conservative evangelical circles).  As for what I think Emily might actually mean–that boys need to learn to be strong leaders so they can lead their wives–that is most definitely not something I want my son learning at school.  If that’s your religious belief, you’re welcome to it, but don’t impose it on my kid.

2. They . . . would be questioned about their gender

As far as I know, this is a made-up concern.  I have yet to meet a teacher or school employee who questions my child’s gender.  I’m not entirely sure how Emily means this, but if she means that girls are given unfair advantage because there’s a sudden backlash against boys, she needs a pretty serious reality check.  Boys are still more frequently called on in class, and boys are more often encouraged to explore math and science.  What gets questioned is when boys fail to live up to that expectation.

If Emily means that suddenly boys won’t be boys and girls won’t be girls, that’s also pretty ridiculous.  Is she assuming some mass takeover of our schools by an imaginary army of transgender people and their allies?  Or is she just lamenting that now it’s okay for boys to like pink and take ballet?  (I doubt she’s having the same questions about whether girls can climb trees and play with trucks.)

3. . . . made guilty for the way their kind had treated women in the past

My son hasn’t yet come home telling me that girls are good and boys are bad for hurting them.  Again, this is not a thing that happens in schools.  I just don’t understand where Emily’s deep fear of feminists is coming from.  We’re not staging protests on the high school campuses or storming the gates of district offices.  We’re not making impassioned pleas at school board meetings.  No one is telling our boys that “their kind” are heinous beasts that have perpetrated evil on womankind.  This smacks of feminist stereotypes.  What I hope my son is learning (and I believe he is, if his behavior is an indication) is that girls are equally intelligent, interesting, strong, brave, and fun.  Through his friendships with girls, my son is learning things that will eventually make him a better man.  The adults around him are encouraging this–and that’s a very good thing.

Also, let’s be clear on this: Men being assholes to women? Not so much a thing of the past.

4. . . . told that they could be attracted to either males or females

Damn skippy, though I doubt this happens at age nine.  I certainly hope that my son is aware that whatever sexual attractions he feels are normal.  I learned at church that sexual attraction was bad unless it was within marriage between a man and a woman.  Because I live in a conservative city, the most “sex ed” I got there was a very brief, embarrassed, “Um…uh…use some birth control so you don’t get a nebulous disease we’re not actually going to describe for you.  Now, watch this video of a woman giving birth so you’re too disgusted to get pregnant.”

Anyway, Emily is wrong about this one too–is she not aware that kids are still being bullied for their sexuality?  Even if schools are teaching an inclusive sex education (which they’re not in most places), the horror of having your kid know gay people exist is a lot less scary than being the gay kid who gets threatened or beaten.  Priorities, people.  Sort them.

5. . . . because there was no male or female: there just was.

This is also foolish.  No one teaches or believes this.  It’s fear-mongering.  I do not know any person–cis or trans–who believes or teaches this.  For the love of God, please go look things up before you start spouting off on them.

Oh, wait.  She probably means proper gender roles, not actual genders.  Er…I hope.  What she seems to possibly mean here (?)–though I honestly can’t tell; I’m still confused–is that it’s okay for men to be attracted to men or women to women because the lines between their roles have gotten too fuzzy.  I can’t decide which interpretation of Emily’s words is more offensive.  In either case, gross stereotypes are being perpetuated here.  Whatever Emily’s intent, it changes nothing.  There are no schools teaching these bizarre things about gender.

When I send my son to school, I worry that he might have forgotten his lunch money.  I worry that he might be bullied (or worse, engage in bullying behavior).  I wonder if his ADHD is making him struggle through his day or if he’s getting enough stretch breaks.  I think about whether he’s learning to work cooperatively with all kinds of people.  I hope fervently he doesn’t get hurt on the playground or in phys ed.  I think about ways to make getting his homework done a priority on nights he has ballet class.  I pray that today is not the day a troubled young man decides to show up at his school and shoot a classroom full of children.

I do not worry that he won’t grow up to be the right kind of man.

 

Because I can’t think of something else to write

By Timothy Takemoto from Yamaguchi, Japan (Sex is Dangerous 3  Uploaded by Fæ) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Condom traffic light–this made me giggle.

It’s Wednesday, and I’m fresh out of the drive to write anything deeper than a backyard kiddie pool.  So on this fine, sunny morning (at least, it’s sunny where I am), you shall be treated to my random musings on writing.  Warning: I’m going to talk about smut a little.*

Last night, I was on Facebook chat with two authors with whom I’m privileged to work as a proofreader–let’s call them Author A and Author B.  They’re writing a novel together, and they’ve asked me to do the proofreading on this one, too.  I’m honored.  As I’ve gotten to know these fine women and their writing styles, I’ve grown to enjoy our working relationship immensely.  One of the perks of that is being able to laugh together.  And one of the things we like to laugh about is their merciless teasing about my . . . what should I call it? I think “condom kink” will do.

I’m not entirely sure how it started, actually.  (My kink, not the teasing.)  I think possibly sometime last fall when I was working on my NaNoWriMo novel.  I popped in at the erotica message board to ask about writing effectively when it comes to condom use.  (Before you all ask, no, I don’t typically write erotica; I just figured those people were the “experts” on the subject, and I was writing a sex scene.)  Not surprisingly, I got a couple dozen replies, and they were all over the map.  The vast majority (almost exclusively women) said they prefer just a passing mention; many felt it to be irresponsible not to talk about it at least briefly.  Several women said they dislike condoms in real life and in fiction.  The men (yes, people, men write erotica too) nearly all supported the idea of condom use as appealing and said, “Heck, yeah, you can make it sexy.”  (Weird, right?  How often are we told that men hate those damn things?)

Fast-forward to my present life as a proofreader.  I jokingly made a comment in the margin of Author B’s Word document praising her for mentioning a condom.  That one little comment has sparked a running gag–and I couldn’t be more delighted.  I mean, what better way to talk about this stuff?

See, here’s the thing.  I keep hearing from my sister feminists that we’re all in charge of our vaginas and what goes in them or comes out of them.  We’re supposed to be responsible for our desire to have or not have the children we want.  I absolutely agree, and I support legislation that will help us to do that.  But my big question is, who’s responsible for the penis?  Because it sure as heck ain’t me.

As a long-time married woman who trusts that I’m the only person with whom my husband is having sex, I don’t worry about these things.  I’ve got my uterus under control, thanks.  But what if we weren’t monogamous?  You had better believe that 1) we would NOT be having condom-free sex and 2) I would do everything in my power to make that condom damn sexy.  That right there is me being in charge of what goes in my vagina.  Any man who’s worth having sex with would be ready and willing to keep both himself and his partner from getting sick.

So you know what?  I’m happy to take the teasing–I know it’s all in fun.  I’m also willing (though slightly more reluctant) to admit my kink.  But I stand by what I write, and unless it’s an intentional part of the plot, you won’t ever find me writing a non-monogamous couple sans condom.  (Actually, you probably won’t find anything terribly graphic, either, but that’s a story for another day.)

Happy Wednesday, y’all.  Don’t forget your raincoats. *wink*

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

*Cue my more conservative friends: “But…but…you’re a Christian!  How can you write smut?!”  Me: *huge eye roll*

Love, Sex, and Marriage: Not Metaphors

Gustave-Claude-Etienne Courtois [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

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

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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

God loves fags signs

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.

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*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.

Trust in me

© Chrisharvey | Stock Free Images & Dreamstime Stock Photos

As I mentioned yesterday in my Fifty Shades post, I want to explore this idea of trust a bit further.  It’s important, because I’m seeing something huge happening among people who call themselves both feminists and Christians.  We are standing at the threshold of a new (and hopefully healthier) sexual ethic that reflects both our faith and the letting go of patriarchal norms.  This is a marvelous thing that is unfolding, and I am beyond thrilled to be part of it.

Last week, fellow blogger Dianna Anderson posted this fantastic piece titled No Touching: Consent as the First Step.  I absolutely agree wholeheartedly that consent must be a foundational element of our sexual ethic, because otherwise, little else that we say matters.  As important as consent is, however, it cannot by itself be our ethic.  We need other elements–without them, we end up with the potential for “whatever makes you happy.”  That’s not truly healthy either.

The next thing we must talk about is trust.  Consent is good, but it must go hand-in-hand with trust.  What made me think of it was not the lack of trust I see in Fifty Shades (though that did help clarify it).  I was actually inspired by this quote from the aforementioned post by Dianna:

Consent is asking at every step “Is this okay? Does this feel good? Can I touch you here?” and getting a unequivocally positive response before proceeding.

With all due respect, I disagree with this statement.  There are times and situations in which it is certainly true, but it is not universally applicable.  When my husband and I are physically intimate with each other, we don’t ask permission and require an enthusiastic “yes” before every single activity.  To my recollection, we have never done this.  In fact, it would be rather strange if we started.  At this point, the expectation is that if one of us does not want to do something or is not enjoying it, we will speak up; if one of us speaks up, the other is expected to listen.  We communicate if we want to try something we’ve never done, but otherwise, we simply do what feels right in the moment.

That got me thinking: Why is that?

Why don’t we have to ask permission for every kiss, every touch?  And why didn’t we need to even when we began a physically intimate relationship?

The answer is that we trust each other.  We have always had the kind of open, honest relationship that made such trust possible.  This is why we don’t need to ask permission.  It isn’t because permission is merely assumed; it’s because we understand each other well enough that we don’t need words to communicate.

It just so happens that I think that the level of trust one has for a partner and the level of physical intimacy should match.  That means that the “are you married, check yes or no” question is the wrong one to ask.  It also means that “do you have permission” might also be the wrong question to ask if it’s asked in isolation.

I’m not comfortable affixing labels to relationships in such a way that the only equation is consent + trust = married couple.  And for those who do not share my religious sensibilities, it’s not my job to police your ethics or tell you that you shouldn’t have a sexual encounter that requires asking permission for every act.  But as for people calling themselves Christians, I absolutely believe that we should not be sexually linked with people we do not fully trust.

There are a number of other factors that come into play when developing a healthy ethic, but both consent and trust are foundational.  I would like to see us build on these two things as we seek to discern how we can have relationships that honor others and reflect our faith.

A touchy subject

I’m talking frankly about sensitive issues.  This is a continuation of my previous posts.   If you are uncomfortable talking about sex or self-pleasure, you’ll wan to read something else.  If you’re okay with my subject matter (or are very curious, even if you don’t want to admit it), read on.

I’m taking a lighter tone on this one, because I’m putting an emphasis on the positive aspects of self-gratification.  These are by no means exhaustive lists, and I encourage you to check out the links.  Also, if you can handle some frank talks, please be sure to check out Laci Green‘s videos.  She’s like Dr. Ruth for the new generation, and she’s just so much fun.  One quick note:  These points are pretty heteronormative.  I’m not trying to be exclusionary here, but this is a situation in which I don’t think I can speak from a different perspective.  If anyone is interested in discussing this from other points of view, I’m absolutely open to that.  This is just to start the conversation.

Here’s some info for the gents, but if you’re a woman reading this, I promise not to tell. If you don’t want to read it, skip to the next section.

1. Guys, you have an evolutionary advantage.  Women are born with all the eggs we ever need, and when they’re gone, that’s it.  Men start making sperm at puberty and don’t stop.  That’s why you have 70-year-old celebrities still fathering children.  Clearly, this is awesome news for you.  But here’s the thing: you have to keep the plumbing working. Regular ejaculation keeps your swimmers in good shape and helps prevent prostate problems.  Why, yes, it does prevent prostate cancer, thanks for asking.  At least a few times a week should do it.  Hey, I just tell it like it is.

2. Do-it-yourself sex means no unwanted fatherhood, no scary rashes, and no angst over ex-girlfriends.  I mean, if we want to promote “safer sex,” you can’t get any safer than getting off in the shower.  This works well for religious sorts, too.  Take care of it at home, then keep your hands to yourself on a date.  Win-win.

3. For younger guys, if you masturbate, you will have less sticky laundry to do.  Yep, it’s true—guys who don’t tend to have more wet dreams, which persist longer without regular ejaculation.  In my opinion, you might as well at least be awake to enjoy it.  Just find somewhere you won’t make a mess.  And you’re welcome for reducing chores.

4. Unless it’s interfering with the rest of your social life (“Dude, I can’t go see Maximum Alien Destruction Force 3 tonight, I gotta stay home and jerk off!”), then you’re in good shape.  Yeah, I know, there’s that whole guys-think-about-it-24/7 thing.  Really?  No spare thoughts for, say, homework, or your job?  Huh.  Still, I think most guys can manage to drag themselves away from their bedrooms long enough to function in society.  But if you really can’t, then you have bigger problems and probably should get some professional help.

5. Most guys are doing it anyway.  Let’s dispense with the guilt.  I know, I know.  Just because everyone’s doing it doesn’t make it right.  In this case, though, I believe it applies.  The vast majority of boys and men masturbate—like, upwards of 95% of them, and that’s the ones that admit to it.  Maybe I’m naive, or maybe I just don’t know what it’s like to be a guy, but my guess is that all 95% of the male population doesn’t have some kind of porn addiction or lust problem.  I was under the impression that normal, healthy dudes can get off without looking at pictures and videos of giant mutant boobs.

6. That passage in Leviticus I mentioned in a previous post (15:16):  Where do you suppose the “emission of semen” comes from, since there are separate laws related to sex?  Hmm, let’s think a minute…

7. Even Dr. James Dobson agrees that it’s normal and healthy, so if you like what Dr. Dobson has to say, then there you go.  Never thought I’d find something Dr. Dobson and I agree on; I hope that’s not a sign of the apocalypse.

8. Finally, for you married guys, this isn’t just a singles issue.  Don’t worry, you’re off the hook too.  As long as it’s not interfering with your relationship with your wife, it’s perfectly fine.  Not only that, wink, wink, you can make it part of your intimate relationship.  In fact, there are books and web sites devoted to the subject, including advice on techniques.  Just have open, honest communication.  Hiding things leads to shame, guilt, and lack of trust.

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Okay, gals, it’s your turn.  You can play along, dudes.  Admit it, you’re curious.

1. Sad but true: 40% of women aren’t having orgasms.  That’s depressing!  Surely we can do better?  Part of the problem is that we’ve been coached to attach our sexuality to men.  We’re taught that sex is great, sex is awesome.  But nobody teaches us what our bodies can do or how to make them do it.  FYI: The vagina isn’t analogous to the penis; the clitoris is.  Make of that what you will.

2. Let’s face facts, some guys just want to get right to the main event.  For that reason alone many women may have no idea that sex of the “tab A into slot B” variety isn’t necessarily the best way to enjoy our partners and our bodies.  Did you know that it takes 20 minutes of gentle stimulation for a woman to climax?  Me, neither, til I read it in a book written by a female specialist during my research.  (Yeah, sad that I had to research this subject.  See what I mean about knowing our bodies?)  Self-pleasure is the best way to find out what you like.  Try it out yourself, then show your partner what you need.

3. For unpartnered women, the same principle applies as with the men.  Imagine ten years’ worth of sexual frustration.  Yuck.  Do me a favor, don’t starve yourself.  That idea never works anyway.  Think about how you feel when you “save yourself” for Thanksgiving dinner.  You get so hungry you feel like crap and even the napkins look good.  Then you binge and feel like crap because you overate.  If sex were really better after a decade-long starvation, married couples ought to intentionally deny each other sex for ten years so it would feel that much better.  Um, no thanks.

3. You can reduce menstrual cramps and prepare for childbirth.  It’s true–regular orgasms strengthen pelvic floor and uterine muscles.  Bonus!  Start now, and by the time you’re ready for babies (if you want them), you’ll have the strongest uterus in three counties.

4. Exploring your own body can help you prepare for intercourse.  You know how everyone says sex hurts the first time?  Well, it doesn’t have to.  See, there’s this nice, stretchy membrane just inside your vagina called the hymen.  It doesn’t go “pop” when you put something in there, it stretches.  But the stretching can be uncomfy the first few times.  Before you have insertive sex with a partner, stretch it out yourself.  You can do this with your fingers or with a (clean!) object.  Go slow, use lube.

5. You won’t get pregnant, catch a disease, or have to deal with an over-eager boyfriend (read: quick).  Again, the same “safer sex” strategy applies to women.  Seriously, I don’t get how people can learn how to put a condom on a banana, but not that getting yourself off is safe, clean, and convenient.  And extra points for not having to remember the dang pill every day.

6. Lots of girls experiment with their bodies, but not all figure things out, and they give up. Don’t do that. Give yourself time, privacy, and a guilt-free atmosphere.  We need to stop being ashamed of our bodies and what they can do. Our bodies function exactly as they were meant to. This is a beautiful, wonderful thing, not something to be embarrassed by or to feel guilty about.

7. There are whole web sites devoted to this kind of thing.  The vast majority of Google results for “Christians” and “masturbation” turn up sites that are supposed to help men stop doing it, or conflate self-gratification with porn addiction.  Guess what?  The sites for women are a lot cooler, but they’re harder to find.  I guess no one worries about our eternal sexual souls.  Here’s an article to get you started if you’ve never ventured into the waters.  Browse the rest of the site for some great tips on how to make your married life more exciting, too.  If you’re not married or with a partner yet, read up now.  Imagine how awesome it will be when you are in a relationship and can show your partner a thing or two.

8. I have no idea whether men would benefit from talking about their solo efforts with each other (in a positive context, not a “man, you need some help with your lust” context).  I do know that women would.  People are relational creatures and we need each other.  Why not open the dialogue with one another? In the right environment, we can give each other advice, listen to each others’ stories, and offer support.

So there you have it, folks.  I hope that I’ve been able to give you some things to think about over the last few days as well as a place to start when it comes to creating a sex-positive atmosphere.  Too many of us have been conditioned to have a shame-based view of human sexuality.  I hope that eventually we can reach a point where we eliminate the fear and stress that can be associated with intimacy and pleasure and instead develop a climate of healthy respect and trust.