An Issue of Sexism and Humor: I Am Not Amused

I've been fighting the urge to angry blog for the past 24 hours, and now that I feel more level headed and less "come at me, bro!" I still feel compelled to write this blog.

Before I begin, let me give this disclaimer: I'm going to summarize an issue I encountered via facebook yesterday. I'm not a proponent of passive aggressively using the internet to start or fan disputes. I think it's immature and un-Christ-like. That being said, I still feel compelled to write about this because it's an example of a bigger issue that's been bothering me for awhile now.

As you've all probably heard, the George Zimmerman case went to trial this past week. The jury, which is comprised of all women, started deliberating yesterday afternoon.

Two hours into deliberation, they asked the court to provide them with a numbered list of evidence. Shortly after this happened, someone I barely know on facebook (we're no longer friends, not because of this instance, but because I met him once at Liberty and I quite frankly didn't even realize we were still friends on facebook) made the following remark: "Two hours into deliberation and you're just NOW asking for evidence? What have you been talking about all this time? #women #omgiloveyouroutfitwhodoesyourhair? (To translate: Omg I love your outfit who does your hair?)

Let me put this disclaimer: Though I really don't know this individual very well, I do know enough about him to know that he is a very kind hearted person, and that he would never intentionally belittle anyone. This is not your run of the mill, I'm going to put people down because I can, person. He even helps lead a youth group (something I really would expect him to be perfect for). That being said, the comment really took me off guard.

I recognized immediately that it was just supposed to be a joke. I wasn't supposed to read anything into it. He wasn't seriously trying to belittle these jurors, nor was he trying to belittle women in general.

But I think that's what bothered me most about it. He wasn't TRYING to do any of those things. He was just trying to be funny. And he was, to most people.

That really bothers me. It has bothered me probably more than it should for the past day. Every time I think about it I shake my head in annoyance. Not necessarily at him, because, as I said, this is a good guy, but at the fact that, in this day in age, comments like this are funny.

Maybe I should have just continued with my day, taken him off of my friends list (again, because I wasn't sure why I was friends with him still anyway) and let the issue rest. But if you know me you know I obviously didn't do that.

I pointed out that, though I'm sure he only meant it as a joke, that it could be easily taken as really sexist. Here are the responses I got:

First from someone who laughed me off and said something to the effect of "oh please, girls say horrible things about guys all the time. We need to have our fun too."

And you know what? He's right. Women do berate and belittle men with frequency, and as a wife and the mother of a little boy, and, honestly just as a human being, that has always bothered me too. I told him that it's not fun when women do it and it's not fun when men do it.

I left for dinner and came back a few hours later. When I checked my facebook I found an overwhelming response, mostly from other women.

And none of them agreed with what I said. My opinion was sarcastically belittled or laughed off. He was encouraged to present the joke as part of an "SNL skit" (something he probably does with the youth group, I would guess.) I was mocked by women who pretended to likewise be offended and then laughed. The person who wrote the comment to begin with said something to the effect of "we're way to easily offended in America." Another person wrote "America: where the majority are terrorized by the minority."

Firstly, I don't believe I "terrorized" anyone. I pointed out in a kind way that his comment had the potential to be taken in an offensive manner. I reiterated that I'm sure it was never intended to be malicious, but that I just felt compelled to bring it to his attention. I agreed that women shouldn't do this to men. I did not reply to any of the several people who replied to his status.

Am I angry? A little. Not really anymore. Not at him or any of the other people who replied, anyway. But I am angry at the state of not just America, but the Church, in many ways.

Over and over again I see attitudes that spell out "if you're offended, that's your problem, not mine. It's not my responsibility to not be offensive."

Actually, it is, in some ways. I'm not suggesting that people should or could cease to have opinions that offend other people-- nor that you shouldn't express an opinion if offends other people. That's part of life and, while it's sometimes unfortunate, it's inevitable.  But this was something entirely different. This was simply a "joke" (I'll get to that in a minute) that took advantage of a stereotype for the sake of humor. It was not necessary. It didn't express something vital. It was for the sake of humor only. James 3 urges Christians to be mindful of the importance of words-- to realize that what you say matters and cannot be taken back. It encourages Christians to be considerate of the people around them. So when I hear Christians say "it's not my problem that you're offended" over something like this, I want to pull my hair out. We are ABSOLUTELY called by God to watch our words-- to be peacemakers. Again, I'm not suggesting we compromise the message of the Gospel because it's offensive at times, but I am saying that you're tacky jokes are not only unnecessary but sinful in some ways.

As for the comment being a joke, that frustrates me too-- for several reasons:

1. This is not a hypothetical group of women deliberating on a hypothetical case. A 16 year old boy was actually murdered. His life is gone. And the fate of the man who killed him (I'm not here to debate if it was self defense or not) is on the line. His comment was not directed at nobody, it was directed at real live people who are in a horribly difficult situation.

2. He's using sexism for humor. #women #omg i love your outfit who does your hair. He is proposing that the jury is incompetent on the basis that they're women. I understand he probably doesn't actually esteem women in that way-- he was trying to be funny-- but particularly as a church leader I would expect him to be mindful that he is (whether or not he meant it this way) sending the message that women are incapable of handling serious business.

If it was a group of all black people and he'd said "What have they been talking about? #who does your weave?" it would be very obviously offensive. In fact, I'd wager he never would have made such a comment. And if he had, I'd wager nobody would be justifying it.

We'd care if it was racist. So why don't we care that it was sexist? My mind was just seriously blown when I was the only one not willing to laugh at this joke. It perpetuates a belittling attitude toward women. It is specifically making fun of six, real people. It is making light of a murder case.

But it was just for humor, so it's somehow okay. I'm sick of people putting humor above tact and consideration. And I'm sick of the attitude that claims we're not responsible for whether or not we offend somebody. To some degree, we are.

God Does Not Exist To Make You Happy

"And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose."
Romans 8:28

"God works all things together for my good."
Christian pop culture's interpretation of Romans 8:28

In recent months, I have found it extremely difficult to listen to Christian radio stations-- not because it's cheesy (though it often is) or because a lot of the songs sound the same (though they do), but because the messages are becoming more and more self serving, and less and less God centered, and, frankly, I can get a more musically diverse version of that on secular radio stations.

Here's what I mean: As I was driving home from the store today I flipped to the Christian station I usually listen to and heard the following lyrics: "God works all things together for my good."  Over and over and over again.  And all I could think was, 'actually, that's theologically inaccurate.' And it's been nagging me all day, not just because it's erroneous and I enjoy being a contrarian, but because it's a misconception that perpetuates a lot of even bigger misconceptions about who God is.

It's not just this song either. I hear the same thing in almost every other Christian song I hear lately-- maybe not always in the same way, but the underlying point is the same: God exists to work things out for my good, and our relationship is very much dependent on how I'm feeling.

And I can see why this mentality is a popular one; who wouldn't want God as their personal assistant? But it's a dangerous misconception that ultimately prevents you from seeing who God is, and eventually encourages disillusionment with God.

The idea that God exists to please you (or that He'll work everything out for your own personal good) is fine and dandy as long as everything is going well. You can shout alleluia's and post happy-go-lucky facebook statuses regarding how good He is to you. But what happens when something doesn't go well? If we believe that God is supposed to be working everything out for our good, it's easy to feel bitter toward God when something bad happens. But Christians have an answer for that, too. Instead of taking a step back and realizing that, just maybe, we've been misinterpreting this verse, we justify it in another way: God is just testing me; this pain will eventually lead to something better.

I don't believe that pain is a bridge to a happy ending. I don't believe that it was an original part of God's plan, and I don't believe He intentionally puts us through pain to achieve growth or to teach us a lesson. That's not to say that growing will always be easy, because it won't, but Christian's, as a rule of thumb, have a habit of assigning God's name to bad things and attaching Romans 8:28 to it for good measure-- as if to say, just trust in the end result.

All of this changes, however, when we take a deeper look at what Romans 8:28 actually says, because it isn't "He works all things together for my good."

Firstly, the Bible never says for YOUR good-- it says for the good of those who love Him. He's not referring to one person, necessarily, but to a group of people. And if you notice, the verse doesn't stop at "those who love Him," but continues on to say "those who are called according to His purpose." I know this verse is the center of way too much debate between Calvinists and Everyone Else, but here's how I see it: He will work things out for those who love Him, and who are working toward God's will.

Wait a minute, Val, that doesn't sound like God is promising me He'll ensure I score a recording contract/win the lottery/do whatever I want to do.

That's because He isn't; God promises a lot of things, but He doesn't promise to give you whatever you want. He doesn't even promise to always make you happy. This makes a lot more sense. Now, when something goes wrong, we're not as baffled as to why that is. We don't have to immediately wonder what part of God's plan this is-- maybe it wasn't a part of His plan at all. Maybe it's a result of the fact that we live in a fallen world, and so tragic, unfair things happen sometimes. Maybe it's just not what He's planning for your life, and therefore not the right thing. Maybe your motivation is a selfish one.

I'm not trying to say that the artist who wrote this song (don't even know who it was) doesn't understand what Romans 8:28 is actually saying, but he makes it easy for people who listen to his song to misinterpret it. And, honestly, it fits right into the current Christian culture, which only strives to understand God as it pertains to themselves.

There is a God outside your realm of perspective, and if you only ever try to see Him from where you're standing, you will only ever see a very limited God.

Happy Mother's Day

Some of you may have noticed that I don't make a habit of posting tons of pictures of Declan. This isn't because I don't take them, or even that I don't think to, but because every time I see something I want to capture and share, I'm a little disappointed when I look at the picture staring back up at me.

The number of times I see something in Declan that I want to capture-- to freeze and pocket and hold onto forever-- is not quantifiable. From the moment he was born, I've been trying to let other people see what I see when I look at my son; but I've given up.

Because I'm his Mommy, and it's the best thing I've ever been.  Because I'm his Mommy, and I think that means I get a window into the stolen precious moments God weaved into him before birth.

I don't post pictures of the way his hair curls around his ears when it's humid out, because you won't see it like I do.  I don't post pictures of the way he tilts his whole head back when he smiles.

I can't post a picture of the elated look of relief he gives me when I pick him up from the church nursery, or the way he bounces up and down in his crib when I walk into his room.

A video won't let you hear his laugh like I hear it-- so intense sometimes that he actually cries and has to stop to catch his breath.

You'll never get to see understanding dawn in his eyes when he learns something new. Not like I do.

Because I'm his Mommy, and it's the best thing I've ever been.

Part of me delights in this-- is happy that these things are all mine.  But a bigger part of me panics when I realize time doesn't stop for these moments-- time doesn't stop for anything.

And I know my memory will not go untouched or untainted by time's grip. And that one day these things won't be vivid in my mind like they are today. That one day he'll give that flirty grin to the woman he'll marry, and that the hand he reaches for when he's scared won't be mine.

So when I take a picture, almost greedy, almost hoping I can just keep one of these moments, I'm always disappointed.

And I don't even try anymore, because it's time wasted-- time I won't get back.

I can't hold onto these things anymore than I can hold onto water with my bare hands; but I can drink as deeply as I can while the moments still linger.

Happy Mother's Day to all you Moms who know what I'm talking about.

The Time Declan Was Almost Initiated Into A Sorority

A couple of weeks ago, Matt and I decided to take Declan to Virginia Tech's annual spring football game.  It's essentially a glorified scrimage, but it was a good opportunity to hang out with some friends, enjoy great weather, and get Declan into the stadium for free. (They charge full ticket price during the regular season, which is kind of ridiculous to me.)

We were lucky enough to find parking only a few minute's walk from the stadium, which doesn't always happen, but we were a little late, so decided to take a short cut.  This short cut happened to lead us right by your typical beat down, party on the lawn, bass shaking the windows type sorority house. (Or maybe it wasn't a sorority house, but there was definitely a pretty wild sorority party taking place.)

I guess they were just extremely exuberant for the spring game (again, glorified scrimage) because these girls were holding nothing back. And there seemed to be no shortage of a certain type of beverage, either. I jokingly (but not really, I was serious) told Matt that I doubted any of these people were planning on attending the game.

And I was right, because as we made our way back to the car, they were still there-- and the crowd was growing.  We're having a little bit of a laugh about this until I see them-- two entirely inebriated stumbling across the street toward the house.  We keep walking, only a few yards away from passing the house when one of them spots Declan who, in all fairness, was looking quite dashing that day.

It was like a tribal call: "Baaaaabyyyyyy!"

And that was all it took for about three or four of them to flock toward us. We tried to sidestep them, but to no avail. The only way to describe these girls are as follows: Drunk, Drunker, Drunkest, and How Are You Still Upright?

How Are You Still Upright: I love your baby. Like, LOVE your baby.

Me: Thanks. Me too.

Drunker: Seriously, cutest baby I've ever seen in my life.

Drunkest: Yeah, she's gorgeous.

Me: He's pretty cute.

How Are You Still Upright: Oh it's a he, guys, it's a HE.

She reaches a hand out to touch his face, at this point, and the only reason I don't stop her is because I'm busy contemplating the best ways to break her wrist if need be.  She actually reaches toward Matt as if to take him from her arms, and I'm about to throw down, when fortunately Drunk steps in.

Drunk: You are NOT picking up that baby, How Are You Still Standing.

How Are You Still Standing: (annoyed) I wasn't. I babysit, so I'm good. You don't have to worry.

And she says this like, five more times, as she continues to attempt to pet Declan's hair. Fortunately, I think her depth perception was off, because she's basically stroking the air.

How Are You Still Standing: Seriously, the girl I watch is (does a mental calculation) eleven months old? Yeah. So, yeah, I babysit. I'm serious.

Honestly, I hope you're not serious because that means, A) you're frequently in charge of another human life and, B) someone trusted you enough to put you in charge of a human life. This does little to put my mind at ease.

Drunk: So are you guys Hokies?

Me: He is, I'm not. (I'm just going to start telling people I am when they ask; they'll like me more.)

Drunk: Oh okay, but, like, you like, GET IT, right? I mean, you GET IT?

That you're drunk? Yes, got that a few minutes ago.

Me: Yep, I love it here.

Drunk: (think valley girl accent) Yeah, I love it here. I (expletive) love.it.here. And, like, I have to marry a TECH MAN (eyeballs Matt, who is holding Declan in one arm and my hand with the other.)

Me: Yeah... me too.

Drunkest: But like seriously--

Me: Well, we're going to go

Drunkest: Love your baby. She's so cute.

How Are You Still Standing is supremely confused-- she looks like she has already forgotten our entire conversation, and is unsure of who we are.  She moves as if to hug us, but we make our move and she misses.

How Are You Still Standing: Bye. Love you guys!

And that is how Declan was almost initiated into a sorority.

And also why he won't be going to college.

Where Does The Time Go?

As the weather starts to warm up (although in VA it doesn't 'start to warm up' as much as it goes from snowing to 75 within 24 hours) I can't help but remember this time last year.

We'd just gotten back from a crazy trip up north-- one that involved an ambulance transfer to Boston and a 2 day stint at Tufts Medical Center-- and were praying for the safe arrival of our baby boy.

He's currently napping upstairs in his crib... (Well, he's actually screaming bloody murder, but he's safe and healthy.) I know that not all of my friends believe this has anything to do with the power of prayer, or with the providence of God, but I do, and I'm thankful every day for it. Matt and I spent seven months of our pregnancy worrying that something was going to be wrong with Declan.  We only had two positive reports throughout the pregnancy, and I had two ultrasounds every month. I'm sure I'd feel grateful for a healthy baby even without such a scary pregnancy, but every day I see him learning and growing, my heart glows. I wasn't sure if we'd get to see him doing the things he's doing.

Already he's taking steps (definitely wouldn't call it walking-- he looks like he just got off the Mayflower when he does it), climbing on anything and everything, mimicking the sounds Matt and I make, feeding himself finger foods, clapping his hands when he's excited, putting toys back into his toy box when he doesn't want them (this is really funny to see), and using "nice hands" with our kitty. (He's not using nice hands with my hair yet, but we'll get there.)

The people at his pediatrician's office finally learned how to pronounce his name. (Well, all except one of the doctors, who refers to Declan as 'Butterball.' Not sure if that's affectionate or an indicator that Declan needs to be eating less.)

He's fast approaching his first birthday, and today is just one of those days when I wonder where the time went. I am proud of our Love Bug and thankful to the Lord for all He's done for us!

The Christian Culture Phenomenon

Something that I've become increasingly aware of since leaving the "Liberty Bubble" is the fact that, in many ways, I've been more a member of Christian culture than a member of the Church for much of my walk with Christ. I've hopped on board the devotionals, charity efforts, new music, and lexicon like the rest of my Christian peer group only to see that, in retrospect, many of these things were trends-- fads that perhaps started out being about Jesus but ended up being about Christian culture.

Since leaving college, I've attended two churches-- neither of which are contemporary in nature, and neither of which are chalk full of other people my age. The result has been really interesting. In some ways I feel like my faith has suffered as a result; contemporary music connects with me so much more than hymns. I'm not sure why, but it just does. There are some weeks where I go an entire service without really paying attention to a word I've sung. In that regard, I miss being in a contemporary church. In many more ways, however, the experience has been invaluably eye opening.

My pastor does not preach from a stool, basking underneath a smokey purple hue on a stage, latte in one hand and ipad in the other. The people who sit in the pew behind me are, on average, at least twenty years older than I am. There is a box of donuts sitting in the foyer as opposed to a cafe. The people who make the most effort to connect with the college group are grandparents. The only context in which I see an acoustic guitar is in my office collecting dust.

When somebody gives a mission report at our church, they're not wearing cutoff jeans or a backpack, and they're not sporting some trendy tattoo or piercing that screams "look, I've assimilated into another culture! you wouldn't get it." They don't talk about how they "loved on kids" (because trendy Christians can't simply say "loved" without a preposition immediately following), or how they experienced some really big "God things."

The absence of all of these things has really made me see that while I was in the presence of them, I was more concerned with "Jesus culture" (pretty sure the Biblical term for this is actually the church, but hey, you just do you) than I was with Jesus. And to be honest, I can kind of see why the rest of the world gets a little annoyed with "Jesus culture" at times.

Let me be clear, I'm not attempting to say that the things I've described so far are wrong, or that they don't have a place in the Church, because that's not my point. I think the point I'm trying to make is that these things, while they're permitted in the church, AREN'T the Church. And if you're unable to worship without them, you're probably not really worshiping in the first place.

It's getting under my skin more and more to see posts on facebook or twitter about rallying behind big causes, not because doing so is wrong, but because I get the feeling most of the people who are "disappearing for a day" from facebook in honor of those in slavery (that'll show 'em!) are really only doing so because some pastor at some conference caused an emotional reaction, and plus all you're friends are doing it too. It's not wrong to start caring about a cause because somebody brought it to your attention, but it is wrong to just hop on a bandwagon. Are you contributing to causes like these because the Holy Spirit has convicted you to, or to make yourself feel good about the things you're doing? It's a fine line.

And all of these catch phrases are driving me crazy. "Love God, love people." Okay, I get it, you've minimized Luke 10:27 to make it bumper sticker worthy, but in doing so, you've also minimized the charge of the Gospel; is that really something you feel comfortable doing? If the Bible was supposed to fit on a bumper sticker (not even a long one-- one of those new oval ones you can stick on your back window) I don't think God would have taken as long as He did to compile the thing. Sorry to have wasted your time, canonization committee, but we're going in a different direction. Bright side: we'll send you a T-shirt.

We've taken the Christianity of the Bible and turned it into a culture. And some people are able to exist in this culture and still pursue the teachings of the Bible-- which is great-- but many more are not. Many more come through the doors of the church and leave without ever really knowing what the Bible actually says.

Something I miss about the north is the fact that people who said they were Christians actually followed Christ, and the people who didn't just didn't. There was no confusion about. There were very few people who were convinced they were following after Jesus when, in all reality, they were playing "Chubby Bunny" at youth group.

So in all that, I guess my point is not to let anything hinder you from pursuing Christ-- not even His people.

Just An Update

Hello all!

Declan is finally napping for the first time today, my classes for the semester wrapped up yesterday, and I finally have a free moment to update on life.

We've been pretty busy lately, but, honestly, who isn't these days? Easter is fast approaching, which means we're getting ready for some much looked forward to time on Cape with my family. It's crazy to think that the last time everyone from that neck of the woods saw Tutter, he'd just gotten proper head control. Now he's crawling all over the place and even trying to walk.

Having a mobile baby is an incredibly scary thing. I kind of joke about not being excited about his first steps, which obviously isn't true. I'm so proud of my little guy and am in awe of the way he's grown in the past eight months. (Let's be honest, I'm in awe of the fact that neither Matt nor I have broken him yet.) But in all seriousness, there's a part of me that just isn't ready for him to be moving as much as he is. Praise the Lord we decided to convert our dining room into a play area, because without that I shudder to think of the kind of trouble he'd find around the house.

I keep having nightmares that he's crawling around the kitchen, chewing on bottles of Windex and pressing his hands to a hot oven. I guess it's time to baby proof... which leads me to our next piece of big news.

We're moving! (Again...) At least this time I'm not 8.5 months pregnant. It was something we prayed about doing in January, quickly decided it wasn't a good time for us, and then re-considered again when we found the right house. It's newly renovated, has a new kitchen, and 4 bedrooms. The biggest bonus is the fact that it  allows us to reduce our monthly payments by a significant amount. If all goes well, we'll hopefully close by April and slowly start the moving process. (The last time for at LEAST five years, thankfully!) We feel really blessed that God opened this opportunity up for us. Needless to say, this house is a good deal more baby-friendly than the one we're renting currently, and we'll be able to baby proof once we start moving in.

Declan is now awake and wants to say hi:    yunnyn

Words of wisdom.

As he is now currently wobbling around the playroom like he recently got off the Mayflower, I'd better go assist him (find a helmet that fits him).