Why Am I STILL Shocked, Surprised, Bewildered, Hoping That Evangelicals Will Do Better?
Sometimes I'm still naive.
As a man in my late 40s--my very late 40s--I'm still sometimes distracted by the privilege I possess as a sic-gendered white Christian male. Because despite all that I've watched and experienced, I still have cultural and political blind spots, y'all. I still have expectations of humanity, even more conservative humanity who say they love Jesus.
Maybe it’s not that i’m naive; maybe it’s because I'm too much of a dreamer.
I still remember vividly how I felt after the 2016 presidential election.
I woke up that following day with an overwhelming sense of dread because Hillary had lost the election. I hated that I had to tell my kids that Hillary lost.
Moreover, I felt grief and shock that a huge majority of white evangelicals had gleefully helped Trump win.
That morning, a family member had sent out a group family text that said, "Praise the Lord--God protected us!"
But despite that very memorable time, I'm still prone to wander and stumble over my privilege.
Because once again, I'm feeling shocked and disappointed and grieved watching so many conservative-led state governments work overtime to introduce (and in some cases, pass) outlandish legislation targeting women and LGBTQIA+ people.
It's easy for me to fall into a state of disillusionment. Because I expect more from people who say they follow Jesus. Why? I have no idea. But I do. For some silly reason, I just don't immediately anticipate that the very same people who say "I love Jesus" with their mouths will also be doing all they can to legislate, control, diminish people who are different from them.
I know, I shouldn't be surprised. I know they've been telling us for years exactly who they are. But I guess because I have so many connections to these people. So many of them are people I call my friends. They're people who are my family members. And, there was a time, when I was right there with them.
But there was also a time—in 2005—when I stopped putting my ideas before people.
And I guess I keep thinking or hoping or believing that at some point these people who I believe love Jesus will evolve, that somehow their humanity will win over their need to control the lives, the healthcares, the moralities of other people.
I guess I think that maybe the words of Jesus will one day ring so clearly in their heads that they will begin to outwardly showcase what those words mean.
I keep believing that at some point their faith will become real faith and not reactive fear. That they will start to really believe the words they say about God and then let God do what God does.
But that doesn't happen. In fact, it feels like it's actually getting worse. That their fears are getting louder. That their faiths are becoming less about belief and more about control, about colonizing, about protecting and enforcing their values on other people.
Their interpretations of the Bible are more important than people.
Their public "moral outrage" is more important than people.
Their control of what truths get taught in public schools (where many of their kids do not attend) is more important than people.
Their whiteness is more important than people.
I could go on and on...
And of course I know there are exceptions. I know people personally who are beautiful exceptions. But many of those who are the exceptions are often very very quiet.
In fact, the only times the exceptions speak up are when they're commenting on posts like this one with their "we're not all like this" messages.
And that's a part of the problem with the quiet "good guys". Too often, the only times they speak up are when they deem people to be "painting with a broad stroke..." And so, they try to diminish the painting.
And I know it's sometimes hard to put people over ideas. I struggle with this on occasion. But it's rare. And it's almost always a very personal matter, not something that affects the lives of large portions of our population.
And maybe that's my problem with continuing to believe and hope despite all that I've experienced. Because I believe that people are more important than their ideas, and I keep believing that maybe they'll eventually see that too.
And choose to stop harming people.
And choose to stop limiting other people's freedoms.
And choose to stop legislating the bodies of women.
And choose to stop talking about Jesus and maybe act like him once in a damn while.
The hate in the world is suffocating, but I believe that love will always win. Some days I question my sanity in thinking this way. I keep a copy of Ephesians 5:1-2 on my desk so I can read it daily to remind me of how we are to love and treat others. Some days I have to read this multiple times. Thank you for a great post.
I have told 3 men who I love and who love me that I am gay. And I also shared with them the cruel things I have experienced in the church. These men who have spoken words of blessing to me repeatedly in the past said nothing when I shared my pain. Not a single word. "I am sorry a Christian told you that you are disgusting, that you are the worst of the worst. I am sorry you don't feel safe in the church. I am sorry you have never heard a Christian say Jesus loves you". None of these statements would have violated their unaffirming theology but they remained silent.
Their theology binds gay people in shame and self-contempt. And as I considered their silence and the silence of a church unwilling to simply say to gay people "Jesus loves you" I realized that they are in bondage too. They have poured the new wine of the Gospel into the old wineskins of the Pharisees. They feel the pull of the Gospel to love but are held back by the need to be right.
The evangelical church has made an idol out of being right. I get it, being right provides security, a sense that I know how the world is ordered and where I fit into it. Most evangelicals have also mistaken certainty for truth. If they are certain, it must be true.
As I heal from church hurt, I am trying to move through this in love. But many days they make it hard and I want to tell them all to F off.