Being sex positive means that one believes sex is good and exploring sexuality is good, as long as it is conducted safely and consensually. It's characteristic of liberal groups, and the Berkeley campus is no exception. A sex positive person does not shy away from having or frankly discussing sex, and believes that it is good for a person to discover who they are sexually, whether with one or more partners.
And I'm sex positive. A kid who grew up Baptist and was taught that sex before marriage is wrong, and was taught all sorts of methods for "keeping pure until marriage," is sex positive. This definitely alienates me from most forms of Christianity, where sex is clearly a big deal for a reason that essentially boils down to "because God says so." How do we know what God is really saying? Are we so arrogant that we think we can really know what God means and is trying to tell us? This leads to larger debates, of course, so let's consider those questions rhetorical for now. The point is: as a sex positive person, have I separated myself from the community that counts as legitimate Christians?
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
If you're not an expert
Christians sometimes like to talk about things they have no idea about, but they think that they are experts because they know Jesus. And it often leads to conversations completely absent of grace. This needs to stop.
Example 1: mental illness. Many Christians who have never personally experienced a mental illness are quick to oversimplify the complexity and gravity of it. Anytime a solution is suggested with the word "just" in it, there clearly is a lack of understanding about the illness. Mental illness is not easily solved by "just" one simple step or series of steps. It is an incredibly long and slow process to overcome the beast(s) of mental illness. Christians who have not experienced it for themselves can have a hard time understanding this. Also, being on medication is not a sin. God has allowed man to create anti-depressants as a resource to help overcome mental illness. It only makes sense to use whatever resources are available to fight the illness. In my opinion, you don't have a right to offer advice to a mentally ill person unless you have been there yourself, or unless you have a degree in clinical psychology.
Example 2: homosexuality. For Christians who do not have homosexual desires, it is quite easy and painless for them to simply say, "Practicing homosexuality is a lifestyle which is outside of God's plan" or other similar statements. But before you say that statement, step into the shoes of a homosexual Christian. Imagine how you would feel if you are told that every romantic attraction you have is a perversion and is wrong. Imagine how hopeless you would feel if you were told that you must be celibate, and you can never share your life with a partner. When those statements are made, regardless of what you believe about the issue, it hurts. It puts gay Christians into a state of self-loathing and suppression, regardless of what they believe about the issue. In my opinion, you don't have a right to speak condemningly about the issue of homosexuality unless you identify as homosexual and have experienced what we have experienced.
Example 3: abortion. It is extremely easy for Christians, particularly Christian men, to shame women who have had an abortion. As a Christian male, I can't speak as an expert on this topic, but I imagine that abortion is a highly complex issue. There is probably a whole lot of pain involved both in the conception of the child and in the choice to remove the child from the womb. I highly doubt that any woman who has had an abortion did so senselessly. You don't know her story of why she did it. There's probably a good chance that she's actually not a heartless human, and that she does indeed value human life (gasp!). I don't think anyone has a right to say whether an abortion was "right" or "wrong"--that's between her and God. And we should allow her to let us into that part of her life only if she wants to let us in there. Because it's probably a very sensitive issue.
Of course, I am not saying that if a Christian has not experienced these things, then they are automatically condemning of them. There are countless Christians who have not experienced these three examples, but they still have grace for those who struggle with these three issues. Follow their example.
What is one way we can ensure that these kinds of conversations do not lead to graceless, painful blows? Perhaps consider starting a statement with "I have no experience with this topic" or "I don't know what it's like." If you use these statements, you must also be open to listening and accepting people's stories. You must be open to changing your beliefs about an issue. It is dangerous when we come to a point where we are so sure of what we believe that we shut out all other opposing voices.
Example 1: mental illness. Many Christians who have never personally experienced a mental illness are quick to oversimplify the complexity and gravity of it. Anytime a solution is suggested with the word "just" in it, there clearly is a lack of understanding about the illness. Mental illness is not easily solved by "just" one simple step or series of steps. It is an incredibly long and slow process to overcome the beast(s) of mental illness. Christians who have not experienced it for themselves can have a hard time understanding this. Also, being on medication is not a sin. God has allowed man to create anti-depressants as a resource to help overcome mental illness. It only makes sense to use whatever resources are available to fight the illness. In my opinion, you don't have a right to offer advice to a mentally ill person unless you have been there yourself, or unless you have a degree in clinical psychology.
Example 2: homosexuality. For Christians who do not have homosexual desires, it is quite easy and painless for them to simply say, "Practicing homosexuality is a lifestyle which is outside of God's plan" or other similar statements. But before you say that statement, step into the shoes of a homosexual Christian. Imagine how you would feel if you are told that every romantic attraction you have is a perversion and is wrong. Imagine how hopeless you would feel if you were told that you must be celibate, and you can never share your life with a partner. When those statements are made, regardless of what you believe about the issue, it hurts. It puts gay Christians into a state of self-loathing and suppression, regardless of what they believe about the issue. In my opinion, you don't have a right to speak condemningly about the issue of homosexuality unless you identify as homosexual and have experienced what we have experienced.
Example 3: abortion. It is extremely easy for Christians, particularly Christian men, to shame women who have had an abortion. As a Christian male, I can't speak as an expert on this topic, but I imagine that abortion is a highly complex issue. There is probably a whole lot of pain involved both in the conception of the child and in the choice to remove the child from the womb. I highly doubt that any woman who has had an abortion did so senselessly. You don't know her story of why she did it. There's probably a good chance that she's actually not a heartless human, and that she does indeed value human life (gasp!). I don't think anyone has a right to say whether an abortion was "right" or "wrong"--that's between her and God. And we should allow her to let us into that part of her life only if she wants to let us in there. Because it's probably a very sensitive issue.
Of course, I am not saying that if a Christian has not experienced these things, then they are automatically condemning of them. There are countless Christians who have not experienced these three examples, but they still have grace for those who struggle with these three issues. Follow their example.
What is one way we can ensure that these kinds of conversations do not lead to graceless, painful blows? Perhaps consider starting a statement with "I have no experience with this topic" or "I don't know what it's like." If you use these statements, you must also be open to listening and accepting people's stories. You must be open to changing your beliefs about an issue. It is dangerous when we come to a point where we are so sure of what we believe that we shut out all other opposing voices.
Labels:
advice,
anxiety,
christianity,
depression,
feminism,
gay,
homosexuality,
relationships,
social justice
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Two words
Many American Christians make a big stink about two words. They assertively respond "Merry Christmas" to a store employee when he or she wishes them "Happy Holidays." They fight to keep "under God" as part of the Pledge of Allegiance. They stress the "In God" portion of the U.S.'s motto "In God We Trust."
They lament that stressing or fighting for these two words is something that they find themselves having to do. They claim that this signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
But I claim otherwise.
That so many school shootings happen and we allow them to continue by failing to take preventative steps signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That a white man can be acquitted in court for racially profiling and killing a black man signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That the incomes of the top fractions of the population are skyrocketing while people sleep on the streets signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That people who illegally come into this country to make a better life for their families across the border are told to leave without receiving any assistance signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That kids in school think it is okay to pick on other kids who are different signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That Christians drive people away from the church signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
This begs the question--was Christ ever in our society to begin with?
Perhaps there are issues in our society that are bigger than two words.
They lament that stressing or fighting for these two words is something that they find themselves having to do. They claim that this signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
But I claim otherwise.
That so many school shootings happen and we allow them to continue by failing to take preventative steps signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That a white man can be acquitted in court for racially profiling and killing a black man signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That the incomes of the top fractions of the population are skyrocketing while people sleep on the streets signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That people who illegally come into this country to make a better life for their families across the border are told to leave without receiving any assistance signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That kids in school think it is okay to pick on other kids who are different signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
That Christians drive people away from the church signals the eradication of Christ from our society.
This begs the question--was Christ ever in our society to begin with?
Perhaps there are issues in our society that are bigger than two words.
Labels:
analysis,
christianity,
evangelical,
gun rights,
language,
race,
social justice
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
White picket fence
I'm never going to have the typical American "ideal" life. I'm never going to experience the scene where I have my stay-at-home wife and two and a half kids, and we live in a house in the suburbs that we are paying a mortgage on. That's not going to happen to me.
When I first started being honest with myself about who I really was and whom I was romantically attracted to, these thoughts ran through my head. And they came with a twinge of sadness. I wanted my life to be what I had grown up with and seen modelled for me. It was a safe and predictable lifestyle to have. But since I'm attracted to guys, that ideal could never happen.
But now, things are different. Thinking those thoughts does not lead me to despair. Rather, I see brightness in my future.
Chances are good that I am going to be living in a city after I finish college or grad school and enter the working world. I'll probably be renting an apartment either by myself or with a roommate or two. Chances are also good that I will date well into my late twenties, given my track record with dating thus far. I will probably hold off on marriage so that I can establish an identity for myself in the workplace.
And then when I get married, I do not foresee us moving out to the burbs and starting a family. We'll probably still be in a city, renting an apartment. He's probably going to be just as ambitious as I am in the workplace, so it'll probably be several years before kids are even an option on the table. We might decide that kids will never even be an option. That's the best part--we can't just "accidentally" have a kid. It will only happen if we both agree either to adopt or to find a surrogate.
Even if we do have (a) kid(s), we may just decide to stay in a city and raise children there. Suburbs are boring! Perhaps we will take turns staying at home with our child(ren). Or perhaps we will hire a live-in nanny to care for our child(ren) while we are at work. Also, on an unrelated note, what will the last name of our child(ren) be?
The fact that I will never have a typical American family life represents a tremendous opportunity for me. I have never had a same-sex couple role model in my life, so my future really is unknown. I have no basis to model my future around, so I get to carve my own future with someone that I love immensely. I get to be creative and make up the rules as I go; there aren't really any expectations or norms as to what a same-sex-couple-headed household looks like. And that's an exciting and bright future.
When I first started being honest with myself about who I really was and whom I was romantically attracted to, these thoughts ran through my head. And they came with a twinge of sadness. I wanted my life to be what I had grown up with and seen modelled for me. It was a safe and predictable lifestyle to have. But since I'm attracted to guys, that ideal could never happen.
But now, things are different. Thinking those thoughts does not lead me to despair. Rather, I see brightness in my future.
Chances are good that I am going to be living in a city after I finish college or grad school and enter the working world. I'll probably be renting an apartment either by myself or with a roommate or two. Chances are also good that I will date well into my late twenties, given my track record with dating thus far. I will probably hold off on marriage so that I can establish an identity for myself in the workplace.
And then when I get married, I do not foresee us moving out to the burbs and starting a family. We'll probably still be in a city, renting an apartment. He's probably going to be just as ambitious as I am in the workplace, so it'll probably be several years before kids are even an option on the table. We might decide that kids will never even be an option. That's the best part--we can't just "accidentally" have a kid. It will only happen if we both agree either to adopt or to find a surrogate.
Even if we do have (a) kid(s), we may just decide to stay in a city and raise children there. Suburbs are boring! Perhaps we will take turns staying at home with our child(ren). Or perhaps we will hire a live-in nanny to care for our child(ren) while we are at work. Also, on an unrelated note, what will the last name of our child(ren) be?
The fact that I will never have a typical American family life represents a tremendous opportunity for me. I have never had a same-sex couple role model in my life, so my future really is unknown. I have no basis to model my future around, so I get to carve my own future with someone that I love immensely. I get to be creative and make up the rules as I go; there aren't really any expectations or norms as to what a same-sex-couple-headed household looks like. And that's an exciting and bright future.
Labels:
gay,
homosexuality,
relationships,
social justice
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