Why is Church Cliquey? Part 5

Forgive all the exposition in this post, it feels necessary to set up the stunning conclusion—I made this part of my Why is Church Cliquey? series because this series has turned into the story of my relationship with church. The good. The bad. The heartbreaking.

This is where we're going to get specific. Are you ready? I'm not.

Exposition

Some background: I left my church in 2014 because my ex-boyfriend (who was abusive) went there and also held a leadership position. This wasn't a political statement of any kind—I walked in—I saw him—I walked out. Once I realized he still attended and was also apparently on the same volunteering schedule as me, I never went back.

His presence made a safe place unsafe.

Later that same year, I reached out via email to the leadership at my church. I objected to my ex-boyfriend being in any kind of leadership position, and I said so in my email. I never heard anything back, not even to acknowledge that it was received. 

So there you go. There's not much to it—just my moral opposition to someone that I knew to be abusive serving in a leadership role at my former church. I don't know what I expected, exactly. I have no basis for believing that he ever went on to abuse anyone else at the church, partially because I cut off all contact. 

That was in 2014—fast forward to last year. My old church got a new pastor. I've never met the guy, but I have many friends who still attend the church—let's just say we have a lot of mutual fb friends.

So I was stalking his fb page (like I apparently do) and I saw that he had recommended the book "Love and Respect."

Reader, I got angry.

I know, I know, anger bad. But seriously, I saw red—or more accurately the red and white color scheme of the Love & Respect franchise.

I had never read the book, but I was familiar with its ideas. I had written about how its precepts disproportionately place burdens of shame and fear on women.

Rightly or wrongly, I was angry that the new pastor of my old church was recommending this as a "good Christian book" about marriage, knowing how it skewed toward the subjugation of women.

Then, it got worse.

I talked to my friends about this and they brought up that not only had the pastor recommended the book on his fb page, he had also preached about Love and Respect from the pulpit and AND—he was leading a premarital group that used Love and Respect as the focus.

Clearly, this guy was not just a fan (Love and Respect "liked" his post on fb, so I guess Love and Respect is a fan of him)—he was an acolyte, an evangelist for this particular ideology.

This felt too personal to ignore, like someone bursting into my living room and launching into a diatribe about how all half Asian half white women recklessly abuse semicolons, so I finally read the book. Insert ALL THE SWEAR WORDS here.

It was too perfect, too much of a cosmic coincidence—the church I had left because of an abusive relationship had hired a pastor who preached an abusive ideology.

Why?

On the one hand, I mean, it kind of makes sense. The Christian church has long had a misogyny problem and Christian men are probably just as likely to be abusive as anyone else. I realize, counter-intuitively, that not even my ex-boyfriend's misogyny was "personal"—he likely views all women the same way, not just me—I wasn't the only "bitch," after all.

On the other hand, it makes no sense at all because this is f***ing 2016 and I live in Los Angeles, California. This is the same church that regularly had a woman—yes, someone with ovaries—preaching from the pulpit (much to the chagrin of some members of the congregation). This is the young, hip, hipster church filled with artists, musicians, actors, writers. This is MY church...was my church. How could this happen?

Think about it: this pastor is leading couples who are dating or engaged through the book "Love and Respect." Dating—they're just dating and already they're being inculcated into these ideas of "what marriage should be" and "what male/female relationships should look like" and "how wives should appropriately (and unconditionally!) respect their husbands."

Young women are already learning that they should continue to "respect" the men who abuse or betray them, that they should lower their expectations for intimacy and equality, that they are especially culpable for any current or future problems in the relationship—and all this presented as the biblical secret to a good marriage.

Meanwhile, young men are taught that they are entitled to unconditional respect from their girlfriends.*

Yeah, I would say that makes me pretty angry.

Love and Respect is a Religion

And it's like, of course—of course this pastor doesn't just like the book "Love and Respect," he lives and breathes it—because that's how these kinds of ideologies function. You don't just read the book and go, "Hmm, that was good."

You buy the DVD teaching series. You infuse an unsettling power dynamic with casually sexist yet charming jokes and anecdotes from your own marriage. You lead seminars on its principles. You directly quote its ideas and concepts in your sermons without citing your source, implying that this is straight from scripture. You lead multiple book studies. You are one step away from buying special underwear with the Love and Respect logo.*

That's the thing about "Love and Respect." It's counter-intuitive—it has the quality of a "special revelation" given straight to prophet Emerson Eggerichs—this "truth hidden in plain sight" that God chose to reveal, but only to him!

Joy Eggerich (daughter of Emerson) writes in her blog about the concept of unconditional respect: "This was something I struggled with for years as my father was unpacking the powerful truth of respect for me."

"Struggled with"

"for YEARS" (emphasis mine)

And she's HIS DAUGHTER

If you read Joy's blog, you can tell that she's a fairly intelligent person—and yet she struggled with this concept for years? Bullsh**.

This is just one example of women twisting themselves into painful hermeneutical, political, and emotional positions in order to obey God's "command" to demonstrate "respect."

I can certainly understand how someone like Joy might end up in this position—she would have to basically renounce her entire family, risking their disapproval and rejection, in order to break out of the system. So she buys in, 100%—at one point even dating a man who uses her own father's concept of "respect" to cow her into submission.

Love and Respect takes the questionably biblical prescription for female subjugation and male dominance and places it on par with the gospel of Christianity.

Biking My Way to Freedom

I don't know how other people find the strength to leave an abusive relationship, but my moment happened on my bike, pedaling through the streets of Los Angeles on my way home.

I was crying, a total and complete mess. But as my entire body strained against the resistance of the pedals, something broke through the pain and the grief, overwhelming me—

It was a single word: No

That's what I feel now when I think about misogyny and the church. My church. My former church.

No. Just no.

This is not a polite, "No thank you, I would not like any misogyny with my Christianity." This is a declaration, a boundary line, a scream.

No.











*You could argue that the gender roles within Love and Respect are only meant to apply to heterosexual married couples, but in Christian culture, dating is meant as preparation for marriage, so dating relationships should mirror the eventual marriage relationship. Furthermore, you are communicating that in the most significant and central relationship of her life, a woman must always operate in a one-down position. Tell me this doesn't influence her other relationships with men. 

*Things that I know happened and are not just hypothetical: No. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. No.

Evil, And What to Do With It

Little known fact: When I started blogging here, it was mostly extremely brief reflections on books I'd listen to during my day job.

Well, it's back! Not the day job, but the brief reflections on books—I plan to call them "Book Bites," because alliteration is my jam.

First up. Michael Finkel's True Story: Murder, Memoir, Mea Culpa (apparently alliteration is his jam as well).

via amazon.com

I found Finkel's book by searching for "memoir" (subject keyword) and "e-audiobook" (media type) in the LA public library database, so I had little background information to go on when I started listening.

Background

In short, just as the author is fired from The New York Times for falsifying a character in an investigative news article, he finds himself in an odd friendship with Christian Longo, a man accused of murdering his wife and three children.

Their lives intersect after Finkel learns that Longo impersonated him while on the lam in Mexico—telling everyone who asked that he was a New York Times journalist. The two become avid pen pals and even friends.

Finkel weaves his downfall as a reporter with Longo's account of how he came to murder his wife and children. Although Longo's crimes are exceptional, Finkel comes to identify with Longo, seeing them as in some ways very much alike.

Reflection (spoilers!)

What would it be like to come face to face with evil? And what if you kind of liked the guy anyway? Finkel leaves no doubt in the reader's mind that Christian Longo is an evil person, even as he describes him as charming, witty, and likable.

At the end of his trial, Longo takes the stand to give his account of the murders. It's chilling—not because he's telling the truth (he seems incapable of this), but because of the nature of his lies (as Finkel points out).

I feel like this gets to the heart of a certain something about evil: it gets the details wrong—although internally consistent, Longo's account rings a false ethical note. Longo cannot paint himself in anything less than a favorable light, even as he describes killing his own two year old daughter. He is always the real victim. When he sheds tears over the death of his family (which he caused for no discernible reason), you get the sense that he is actually crying for himself—his loss, his nightmares, his pain. When he remembers hearing his daughter's screams, he feels sorry for himself for having to relive such a painful memory.

I felt conflicted about the character of Michael Finkel, the author. I have a difficult time sympathizing with writers who commit the kind of journalistic crimes that cost him his job. He admits to being an egoist—He was infatuated with "Michel Finkel, New York Times journalist." He admits that he's always had a problem with lying. And when he first brings up his crimes, he gives several superficial rationalizations (deadline pressure, not wanting to let his editor down) which smacks of denying full responsibility.

Ultimately, he comes clean, to his editors and to us. It's harrowing.

But I couldn't shake the sense that Finkel somewhat gleefully capitalized on his special connection with a murderer to revive his own career—I don't know whether this blind spot in the narration is deliberate or not. I don't think we needed a good deal of handwringing over how horrible the death of a women and three young children is—the despicable nature of the crime speaks for itself.

But Finkel seems far more interested in drawing connections between himself and Longo and their mutual manipulation than forthrightly examining the ethics of giving a murderer such free grace to tell his own story. Finkel's self-examination feels surface level at best.

After Longo is convicted on all counts and sentenced to death, he begins dangling the carrot of "What Really Happened" for Finkel—telling, retelling, and revising the story he told in court.

If you've ever dealt with a manipulative person who is trying to maintain a connection with you at all costs, you know exactly what is going on, although Finkel surprisingly seems unaware and initially falls for the gambit (tell me more...)

And there's another connection between Finkel and Longo: neither of them really consider the harm that they've done to other people. Finkel is sorry that he lied, yes, but he never examines (or even mentions) the consequences of his lies for anyone but himself—for example, by considering what it means for a white American male to impersonate a west African child laborer, or how he may have harmed the very humanitarian cause he was trying to support, or, to parallel Longo, how he inadvertently abbreviated or circumvented someone else's story.

In the end, I can't help but feel that as Longo tells and retells "his" story to his devoted audience (Finkel, in this case), he is killing his wife and children over and over and over and over again.

It makes me want to scream at the injustice of it—Longo can revise his life, distorting the truth, changing this or that detail at will, painting himself as the victim, deciding that the murders don't matter anymore and that he's moving on—meanwhile, he put a period on the lives of his family and forever wrested away their ability to write or revise or retell.

After reading this book, I have no interest in reading another word about or by Christian Longo. I don't want to hear his side of the story. Again. I don't care what happens to him. The best I can do is indifference.

Finkel describes having this same experience—wanting nothing to do with Longo—before being sucked back into his web of manipulation and deception. It never ends.

Crossover Recommendations

I was reminded of M. Scott Peck's People of the Lie: The Hope for Healing Human Evil. There are definite echoes of Christian Longo in Peck's account of evil. I highly recommend this book.

via amazon.com

For more on writers who play fast and loose with the truth, Jon Ronson's book So You've Been Publicly Shamed spends a lot of time on famed fibber Jonah Lehrer. Interestingly enough, Lehrer is also an opaque character—there's never a plausible explanation for why he did what he did, perhaps because the only explanation is that he thought he could get away with it.

Netflix's show Making a Murderer is an obvious companion piece to "True Story"—whether or not you think Steven Avery might still be guilty could be a litmus test of whether you believe in evil or not.

The Wizard of Oz and Other Narcissists by Eleanor Payson is one of the best books about narcissism that I've read. Longo was diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder, and although most narcissists are not killers, a book about dealing with them might still be helpful.

2016 Bucket List

"The right time is any time that one is still so lucky as to have..."- Henry James

So, this is going to be a grab bag of personal goals and fun things to do this year, in no particular order of importance and subject to future updates and revisions as my wanton, womanly whims waft me. Luckily, Los Angeles is full of restaurants to sample, bizarre workouts to try, museums to visit, and guinea pigs to cuddle. Here's to a great 2016.

1. Volunteer at Los Angeles Guinea Pig Rescue

SO FLUFFY!!! Photo via LA Guinea Pig Rescue

Why haven't I done this yet. Why am I not hanging out with dozens of guinea pigs right now. SO FREAKING CUTE. TEARS. CANNOT EVEN RIGHT NOW.

2. Go hammock camping

Ever since my sister bought me a $5 hammock at Five Below, I have been dreaming about sipping wine in my hammock before a blazing fire while watching Netflix (that's what people do when they're camping...right?) As far as I can tell, all you need to go hammock camping is a hammock, tree straps, and two appropriately spaced trees. Living the dream!

3. Host a clothing swap (or three)

Leftover shoes from the last swap

When I told my sister that this was on my bucket list, she observed that, "Saying you're going to host a clothing swap this year is like saying, 'This year, I'm going to take a poop." She's not wrong. I'm taking one right now.

4. Start a local Artist's Way group

I participated in an Artist's Way group last year and it kind of sort of changed my life. This is one of those books that makes an evangelist out of you—the kind you give to your friends and strangers on the metro. Due to my continuing commitment to drive only when necessary, I would like to start a group close to my house. Like, walking/biking distance.

5. Ride my bike during CicLAvia

This is one of my favorite LA events. They shut down miles of public streets just for bikes/pedestrians/rollerbladers/skateboarders/scooters. I may have moved out of the valley but that doesn't mean I'm not going to haul/public-transpo my bike up there for this event.

6. Be in my brother's wedding

My brother is getting married!!! Not only is he all grown up (real job and everything), he's also an amazing person to talk to and hang out with. Sibling lottery on lock.

7. Make my own Bloody Mary mix from scratch.

I tried this once with fresh-squeezed tomato juice and the results were just "meh." Moral of the story: keep your tomatoes canned and your pepper gratuitous.

8. Take up weight lifting

9. Ride my bike to the beach


10. Visit the Broad

11. Learn to sew

I may or may not have taken a free sewing class at Mood LA two years ago. I may or may not have only gotten to the part where we pinned the pieces of a tote bag together. I may or may not still have those pinned together pieces sitting in my car. *Hangs head in shame*

12. Get a new job

13. Find a spiritual community or group that doesn't cause spontaneous feminist combustion

14. Be an extra in a web series as "Hipster Party Goer"

CHECK AND CHECK

15. Try acroyoga

16. Get health insurance

17. Learn how to [ice] skate backwards

So, this one time, I tried out for the hockey team at Cambridge when I was studying abroad. I put on all the gear, I went through all the drills, and though I wasn't the worst skater of the bunch, I could not for the life of me skate backwards. More than one person, including one really cute guy, tried to show me but I could—not—get—it. Goals.

18. Be an extra in a music video as "Skater Girl."

CHECK AND CHECK

My Top Five Posts of 2015

2015 may have been the year I spent recovering from everything that happened in 2014, mostly a horrible relationship that managed to hit the traumatic trifecta of my personal life, professional life, and spiritual life.

The question of 2014 was, "How will I ever heal from this?"

The answer of 2015 was, "Through writing. And by the grace of God."

Writing has been one of the most healing practices in my life—and I'm beyond grateful to be able to do that here.

On that note, here are my five favorite posts from 2015, in the order they were written:

Photo by Matthias Ripp

1. Why is Church Cliquey? Part 4

"There's that familiar narrative we tell each other after a breakup: Time to move on. You can do better. There are plenty of denominations in this diocese, or something like that. And I feel a bit silly. Like I'm all torn up over a breakup where the guy was never really that into me in the first place."

I don't know if I would describe this as a personal favorite, but as the latest in my "Why is Church Cliquey?" series it feels significant to my journey as a Christian and (post) Evangelical. Looking back, I can see how even though I left my church for personal reasons, the exodus was both a long time coming and to a certain point, inevitable. I can feel part 5 coming on like a case of norovirus. You're welcome in advance.

2. The INTP & Giving Zero Fucks, Parts 1, 2 & 3

"You don't care," is also emotionally coercive: "You should care. Shame on you for not caring. If you were a good person, a good Christian, a good girlfriend, a good employee, you would give a f*** about what I want you to give a f*** about."

This series was so much fun to write (not least because who doesn't like to drop the F bomb every third sentence, amiright?) Numerous people (two) told me that they also found it amusing, so mission accomplished. Apparently, there is a huge (in the 100s) blog market out there for INTP-related content, so expect to see more in the future. One of my most googled posts is "INTP = Asshole?" and I laugh every single time it comes up in the search keywords.

3. The Church & Mental Health: Interview with a Therapist

"There's an old saying one of my bosses likes, it goes: 'Feelings buried alive never die.' And what happens is they come out in other very nasty ways."

Addressing the intersection of Christianity and mental health, the interviews in this series brought healing when I least expected it. I can't emphasize enough how thankful I am—how God used conversation, and questions, and writing to bring healing and resolution to some traumatic things that happened in 2014 around the issue of mental health, and even more inexplicably, to a trauma that I have struggled to make sense of for over 10 years (I haven't published that interview yet. Bring it on 2016!) I don't know what to make of it. It's a miracle in its own right. And for me, it was one of the most grace-filled moments of 2015.

4. Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys Are All Dented Cans - Entitlement

"It's not anger. Because anger doesn't cause abuse. It's not pain. Because there are many, many men (and women) who experience intense, searing, heart-rending pain and yet fail to abuse anyone. It's not that they rage--it's that they feel justified in their cruelty."

Wow, talk about raw pain. The "Undateable" series might be the most popular series I've ever written—and some of the most appreciative readers have been men, which is awesome. I've used the series in part to process one of the most traumatic relationships of my life, and I think this post gets at the heart of why dating men like this can make you question your spiritual and religious beliefs. Because unfortunately, Christian men and men in the church are no less entitled (some would say they are more entitled because of historical Christian misogyny) than non-Christian men. What happens when you would no longer like a side of misogyny and sexism with your Christianity (thank you, but I don't like mushrooms). Do you give it up altogether?

5. Jessica Jones, Sex Robots for Jesus, and the Love/Respect Binary

"So I'm going to call 'Love and Respect' what it is: a false doctrine. Idolatry. A dangerous, misogynistic, and abusive ideology masquerading as the biblical, magic pill solution to all male/female relationships."

Hello misogyny, my old friend. Speaking of misogyny and the church—I've always had something of a personal vendetta against "Love and Respect" the franchise. But I had never actually read the book. HOLY BLANKETY BLANK. It was so much worse than I thought it would be, and that's saying something. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this book is evil. And if even one person questions 1/100th of its assumptions about men, women, gender roles, and marriage, I will consider that a success. I see more writing about complementarianism and "Love and Respect" in my future, God help us all.

Runners up:

Why I kept Quiet About Being Sexually Harassed
Should I Stay or Should I go?
"Give Me Sex Jesus"