Tag: Karen Swallow Prior

Why Am I Not the Leadership Journal Guy?

This week’s evangelical crisis comes as Leadership Journal, the Christianity Today publication for ministry leaders, put out a first-person story of a youth minister who used his position to exploit a teenaged girl in his care. That’s not the tone of the story. It’s about how he got “trapped in sin” (with references to King David). In fact, it’s a remarkably narcissistic piece with him at the center of all activity (which as Libby Anne observes, is told in passive voice).

I was aware that LJ posted the piece because my twitter feed was full of concern. Much of this was expressed by female bloggers (here’s an excellent example from Susannah Hartzell Paul that includes links to others). It really bothers me that males (with some notable exceptions like Micah Murray) were much too quiet. The fact that we weren’t all outraged is an indictment on the structures of patriarchy and power that lie at the root of the issue.

Today Karen Swallow Prior tweeted a simple question:

How old were you when an adult authority pursued you sexually? #howoldwereyou

The responses are heartbreaking even though Karen effectively uses twitter to show remarkable compassion to people reflecting on years of pain.

So why not me? What kept me from being the subject of someone’s tweet?:

I was 19 and taking a sociology class at a Christian College

Early in my career, I had a conversation with a colleague about the potential for sexual entanglement with a student. He had said that he always made sure to keep his door open where the administrative assistant could see him because he never knew when some coed might accuse him of inappropriate behavior.

I realized that being wrongfully accused wasn’t the real challenge. The real challenge was being guilty. Knowing that I could be vulnerable put me on edge. It made me pay attention to the dynamics of day to day relationships.

Over the course of my career, there have been several times where a connection with a student or colleague was different than normal. A student who really liked my classes and enjoyed dropping by the office at odd times. The colleague who seemed overly reliant on my emotional support when dealing with difficult colleagues (“no, you really are good”). The student who was clearly codependent to the point where I’d avoid extended contact. The student who flattered me with attention.

None of these situations ran the risk of developing into what the youth minister described. But I was always aware that they could have.

In nearly all of the cases above, I knew the woman well enough to know something of her family life. There were often issues with father estrangement. Even cases of emotional and potentially sexual abuse. There were usually issues with fractured self-esteem (not uncommon for bright young women in a Christian college).

Perhaps I’ve been gifted with a heightened sense of empathy. Or I overthink everything. Or I ponder consequences. Maybe all of these.

But I really think what protected me from predation was the realization that each of these women had been dealing with issues throughout her life. Serious stuff. And I could only see myself as the potential next guy in the long list of guys that had or would take advantage. I couldn’t be concerned about building people up in the Image of Christ while remaining oblivious to how I’d affect the appropriation of that image.

At the end of the day, I am responsible for my behavior and the impact I have on others. We are all part of each other’s stories. I simply cannot allow myself to be “that guy” that the woman would someday tell her friends, pastor, counselor, or spouse about.

Not because I’m perfect. But because I understand what power imbalances do to people, especially when those in power come to believe that we deserve it.

So I wind up outraged at this youth minister for being so arrogant and ignorant. For a church culture that so enables celebrity that no one would believe in wrongdoing until after the crisis is public. For the complacency of fellow evangelical males who don’t understand what all the fuss is about.

I always knew that there was risk and that I was responsible for dealing with it.

Today, my “office” is really a cubicle. I have no door and the thin walls go up six feet. I can hear every conversation on the floor in every other cubicle. But I still know that if I wanted to be irresponsible, I’d find a way.

It is only the love for the other’s journey that provides inoculation.

 

Re-Thinking Christian Higher Education

Bob Jones UniversityI stole the picture to the left from Randall Balmer’s excellent piece yesterday about the rise of the Religious Right. It’s a shot of Bob Jones University taken three decades ago. I picked it because it has a distinctive institutional feel. There is something very fortress-like about the building shown.

The unique nature of the millennial generation has been a regular theme on this blog. I remain convinced that something substantive has shifted. Today’s Christian university students aren’t looking to enter fortress-like compounds that keep them isolated from the broader world. They see their Christian faith propelling them into that world to impact it for the God, even though they find the world a messy place that doesn’t align with their easy answers.

While I’ve decried fortress-like patterns at schools like Cedarville, Bryan, Bob Jones, Patrick Henry, Pensacola Christian, and many others, I’ve been trying to think deeply about what the alternative looks like. How does a Christian University begin where millennials are? Does their approach to diversity and social networks automatically suggest a relativism to be avoided? Or can we find ways that their questions revitalize a Christian faith that can engage today’s complex world as it is rather than how we imagine it might be?

I came across some interesting blog posts in the last couple of weeks that suggested a path that Christian Higher Education might pursue. In his Revangelical blog, Brandan  Robertson wrote a fascinating piece this morning titled “I’m Probably Wrong“. He describes how he’d get into deep theological conversations with others and then end his reflection with “I’m not sure I believe any of that.” He writes:

The very nature of faith is that it is a jump towards something that we can’t see clearly and can’t comprehend fully. And faith requires humility to admit that we may not be right. That other people may have a more solid perspective. And that maybe the answer isn’t found in “us” or “them”, but somewhere in between. Our faith should always be expanding, deepening, and changing as we seek to know and learn about our eternal God who transcends all things. We should be very nervous of people who claim to have it all figured out- simply because of what that means: they have figured out God. I recently interviewed a well known reformed pastor and asked him if his theology has changed since he had entered in to ministry nearly twenty years ago. His answer was simple: “No.” As I read his response, I was taken back. How can your “words about God” not have changed in twenty plus years?

As I often tell my students, the kind of intellectual humility Brandan is calling for is the essence of good scholarship. We explore possibilities that make us uncomfortable but are willing to retain Faith that God is at work.

Another post that caught my eye came from Jamie (The Very Worst Missionary) Wright a couple of weeks back. She wasn’t writing about education, but the far more important topic of how our children relate to faith. Her piece, titled “Not All Pastor’s Kids are Christian. Sorry.“, is a reflection on her own children. One sings worship songs. The other isn’t sure he believes in God. But rather than worry about “what people might think“, Jamie and her pastor husband have left them room to decide.  In fact, she very carefully speaks to the issue of expected religiosity:

So first we told them to be honest, to tell the truth about who they are and where they’re at with the whole God thing, always, even if it makes people uncomfortable. Even at youth group? Yup. Even on Easter? Yup. Even in front of church leaders? Yup. Even with creepy pastor groupies?…Especially then, son, especially then. This doesn’t mean they go around throwing out personal information at inappropriate times, just that they have permission to speak freely when it’s called for.
Then we told them to be open, to stay receptive to new ideas, and old ones, always, even if it makes them uncomfortable. This advice was not directed at any one child, but to all three, faithful or doubting, because it is too damn easy for us to settle on false ideas and call them Truth, even -and maybe especially – Biblical Truth. What’s that one saying? “Don’t believe everything you think.” …Yeah, that. We could probably all benefit by practicing a little bit more of that kind of cognitive humility (emphasis Jamie’s).

They also said that they should honor their parents, stay in conversation, and respect the choices others have made. This seems to be another good lesson for Christian Universities. We should allow our students to experience God at their own pace. Clearly we want them to be people of deep faith but not fake faith. My senior students regularly reflect on the sense of performance that is involved in attending a Christian institution. Maybe an approach of “cognitive humility” allows for the authenticity that is too often missing. But their questions should never be dismissive or snarky. They shouldn’t negate the faith commitments of others or the institution. But they also shouldn’t bury their important questions. It does us no good for our students to play at faith only to abandon it post-graduation.

Then there are the articles about “trigger warnings“. Karen Swallow Prior had an excellent piece in The Atlantic (which has been on a real roll lately!). She contrasts political correctness of the past with “empathetic correctness” today.

While political correctness seeks to cultivate sensitivity outwardly on behalf of those historically marginalized and oppressed groups, empathetic correctness focuses inwardly toward the protection of individual sensitivities. Now, instead of challenging the status quo by demanding texts that question the comfort of the Western canon, students are demanding the status quo by refusing to read texts that challenge their own personal comfort (emphasis mine).

While I’m a bigger fan of E.J. Dionne than David Brooks (Karen goes the other way), there’s still significance in what she says. Another take on the trigger warning conversation is this piece from the Chronicle of Higher Ed. The author is a German professor and psychiatrist.

It would be much more useful for faculty members and students to be trained how to respond if they are concerned that a student or peer has suffered trauma. Giving members of the college community the tools to guide them to the help they need would be more valuable than trying to insulate them from triggers. Students with unusually intense responses to academic cues should be referred to student-health services, where they can be evaluated and receive evidence-based treatments so that they can participate fully in the life of the university (emphasis mine).

Discussions about difficult topics (Flannery O’Connor, the Holocaust, Same-sex marriage, Biblical scholarship) are part and parcel of higher education regardless of its Christian orientation. But Christian institutions have too long operated in fear of the parent,  pastor, trustee, or pundit who e-mails the president (or a random list of churches) asking “what kind of Christian institution has our students read ___________?)” demanding a stop to the instruction and potentially the removal of the faculty member.

Rather, we need to see that difficult topics are part of growth. The questions are important (and should be treated with intellectual humility). The student’s growth is to be respected (at whatever pace they are moving — or not). And we must be up front about what it means to be educational institutions who believe God is in control.

These are the ideas that have been kicking around in my brain for a long time. If we are to move the conversation away from the Cedarville, Bryan, and Bob Jones examples we will need to build a more robust case for how that educational form can work.

One of the advantages of living in the midwest is that I’m surrounded by Christian universities. A quick count suggests that there are about a dozen within three hours of where I am. I am asking my colleagues at institutions in Michigan, Indiana, and Ohio if they are willing to gather in some central location (like Fort Wayne) for a day to explore these questions. It may be easier to do this across institutions than in any specific institution. I’ll be contacting some of you directly and you can bring all of your questions as well.

 

 

For God’s Sake, Tell The Truth!

imdb.com
imdb.com

Between the run-up to the 2010 midterm elections and the summer before the 2012 presidential election, I maintained a blog on politics and media called the ninth commandment. It explored the nature of civil discourse and questioned why it had become culturally acceptable to lie as a means of argument. In my first post in that blog, I wondered why we paid attention to anything Politifact scored below “mostly true“. In my ideal world, once a statement is debunked it should be retired from circulation.

Recent events have me returning to this theme. It’s not just political figures using social media to denounce the president as they were heading to the State of the Union. It’s evangelical leaders looking for reasons to be offended by the broader culture. It’s progressive evangelicals who caricature other christians, questioning their motives or intelligence or biases. It’s conservative christians attacking other christians just for asking challenging questions.

Many, including me, have opined on the Duck Dynasty controversy where Phil Robertson got in trouble with A&E for his comments about homosexuality in a GQ interview. A&E banned him, then reinstated him (after enjoying a week of press), and now things are kind of back where they were albeit with reduced ratings for DD.

But what gets my attention is not Robertson’s beliefs about how homosexuality fits his “biblical worldview” (see Micah Murray’s interesting analysis here). I have no problem with him arguing that he can’t reconcile scripture and modern social changes. The problem comes when he knowingly links homosexuality with bestiality. In spite of his backwoods image, he must know that this is patently false. So why does he say it? Furthermore, why do evangelicals jump on the bandwagon to defend a patently false statement?

Alan Noble (PhD!) has done a masterful job of deconstructing claims certain media segments put forth of anti-Christian bias (see an example here). For his efforts at gathering what Paul Harvey called “the rest of the story“, he got chastised in comments from other evangelical Christians for not following Matthew 18 in confronting a brother in Christian love. But why is it acceptable for evangelical Christians (even if they are Fox News commentators) to misrepresent the real story? And why do other evangelical Christians swarm to the defense of the misrepresentation?

This week, Rachel Held Evans tried to address the complexity of the contraceptive mandate in the Affordable Care Act, best characterized by the Hobby Lobby case. Hobby Lobby and others claim that being required to have insurance policies that provide contraceptive coverage to their employees is a violation of religious freedom. They object, as a story in Christianity Today puts it, “to the mandate’s requirement that employers provide employees with emergency contraceptives that many evangelicals consider to be abortifacients (emphasis mine).” This sentence is telling — a factual question is couched in the phrase “many evangelicals consider”. It takes a scientific question and guards it in a shell of religious belief. Curiously, Christianity Today had written this piece last April that primarily answers the scientific question at least about one of the emergency medications (see also here and here for similar stories from other sources). So why isn’t that in every piece of reporting they do? Why is the “many evangelicals believe” reference the go-to point?

For trying to address these questions, Rachel became the subject of this piece in First Things, published by the Institute for Religion and Public Life. The third paragraph begins, “Readers may be surprised to learn that Evans identifies herself as a pro-life Christian.” The story continues to let the readers know that this cannot be the case according to their definitions. Failing to address the honest questions Rachel had asked, it was far easier to dismiss her points as insufficiently adherent to the party line. This required argument by extremes, putting words in Rachel’s mouth, and asserting motives they cannot possible know. These are evangelical and Catholic writers responding to an honest piece written by another evangelical writer. Once they opened the door, then less kind distortions and mendacious remarks would follow: many of these also from evangelicals. Rachel shared on twitter just some of the names she was called in comments or tweets (don’t know what her questions had to do with witchcraft!).

Disagreement on policy is legitimate. Defamation is not. Looking at evidence and its policy implications can result in civil discussion (as Rachel and Karen Swallow Prior demonstrated in a long twitter discussion last night). Distorting positions and mis-stating the evidence is not. As Rachel cogently posted yesterday: “Christians: If all truth is God’s truth, then tell it. Tell the truth. Don’t lie about science or history to promote your ideology.”

Here’s one more example in the making. A surprising piece on the internet recently said that a song written by evangelical Joni Eareckson Tada was nominated for the best song Oscar. It is the title song from the movie Alone, But Not Alone. It was a surprising nomination because it’s a small production that nobody had ever heard of (details here). As the story explains, the nomination was withdrawn because of accusations of undue influence by the promoter. Many people in coming days will treat the story as an infringement on religious values, as Christianity Today points out. But even the CT story seems to offer a retelling of the story in favor of the value argument. The headline asks “What Message did the Academy Send?“. The implication, supported by the people quoted in the opening paragraphs, is that this is another example of Christians being shunned by Hollywood. But this is not the case. As the film studies experts who have solid evangelical credential point out, this is a simple example of someone breaking the rules. To characterize is as anything else is simply untrue.

Why is there such a strong tendency for Christians to grab partial truths or outright lies and use them to argue with others? In part, it may be due to a belief that we can’t engage in civil conversations that express our values without compromise. We don’t want compromise because that devalues our long-held positions.

I worry that it has much more to do with the fact that we’re afraid. We’re afraid that our positions won’t stand up to scrutiny in civil discourse.

We’re afraid that our past overstatements, misstatements, and misrepresentations will be exposed and the Christian church will be damaged as a result. This is a completely rational fear. We know that we’ve often violated that ninth commandment and don’t really know how to repent and ask forgiveness.

What I can say for sure is that holding to party lines and calling out dissenters weakens the witness of the church. Zack Hunt made that point extremely well in this post yesterday. He cogently writes:

We’ve been asked for a reason for the hope that is in us, but instead of incarnating that hope through acts of love for those in need, we offer compassionless rhetoric and a sales pitch. And so people leave and search for hope elsewhere.

We are working to be the Body of Christ in society, to be the first fruits of the Kingdom that is here and yet not arrived. How we go about that is critically important, not simply as expressions of our character and discipleship, but to the very mission of Christ’s Church.

So for God’s sake, if not for yours, Tell the Truth.