Why I no longer go to an evangelical church

I make this list knowing that there are Protestant churches that probably try to address these problems. And there are always a handful of awesome, good people in every church. Anyway, in no particular order:

1. I hate being judged on my salvation narrative.

2. I hate being at a church where most of my leaders are men and they have no idea what patriarchy means or its insidious effects.
3. I hate that I have to listen to one person's interpretation of a passage and accept it as the word of God, or at least that God is speaking through him. And so often it's cherry picking or decontextualized.
4. I hate that pastors/ministers wear such garish costumes and expect/demand respect.
5. I hate the performance of church. Dress up, small talk, pretend to feel something every week. I especially dislike the competition of performance. Who looks more godly today? Whose family looks more godly today?
6. I hate feeling like I have to be on my best behavior, when there is nothing wrong with my daily behavior. Feels fake.
7. I hate that everything has to do with God. Instead of living your life, everything becomes spiritualized. Very puritan. I also hate that we are constantly encouraged to "know" God. How much do we have to "know" him and "feel close" to him before we just live out what has been asked of us?
8. I hate the music and drama and art. Because there is no room to explore "sin," there is no room for creativity. Every song or skit or whatever has to end on a redemptive note. Formulaic.
9. I hate defending my own views or interpretations to everyone. EVERY ONE.
10. I hate being called a "strong woman" as an insult.
11. I hate being called "proud" or "unteachable."
12. I hate the obligation people have to serve each other or help each other, but not necessarily because they genuinely like or care about you.
13. I hate that there is an agenda to evangelize. Most church people don't have relationships or friendships with true non-Christians. I do. And I don't want to evangelize to them...it's cheesy and fake.
14. I hate that churches think becoming saved is the answer to addiction. It might help some, but not many.
15. I hate that church is so ridiculously far behind the secular world in terms of social justice (race, poverty, women's rights, sexual orientation, gender orientation). What a shame. What a damn shame.
16. This list can go on forever. I hate that if you stand up for what you think Jesus stood up for, you're chastised.
17. I hate any church culture of dating. Like, really hate this one.
18. I hate that anything you talk about in church has to be backed up by the Bible with circular reasoning. I also hate that the Bible is read literally. GOD! That's an annoying one.
19. I hate the using of God to further your own agenda or desires. This is done through counseling, prayer, sermon, Bible study, etc.
20. Last one...for now...Being part of a church, instead of having a community that loves and serves each other because they live together and need each other, is an arbitrary group of middle class attendees who ignore the radical teaching of Jesus and settle for a church life of feelings, occasional good deeds, and mediocrity.

Just as I wrote #20, I thought of five more! I could be here all day.

What I did like about church, but it's not enough to ever draw me back:
1. Choral singing
2. Feelings of bliss or catharsis
3. Feelings of comfort or community, once in a while
4. Bible passage close reading time
5. Having church people who are willing to help you move or bring food when you're sick
6. Feeling of purpose when reading the Gospels

John Piper and Patriarchal Christianity

John Piper's blog has a piece about women's roles and it's really problematic.

What I find infuriating about John Piper and his ministry (and its popularity among evangelicals) is that they refuse discourse. They consider the Bible to be immutable, but only immutable in their interpretation of it. REALLY, how difficult is it for husbands to "accept" their leadership roles? How difficult is it for men to accept the will of God by accepting their assurance of power in the church?

How insulting to couples who find their own way, making things work with each other. Like there is only one way that couples can "make music."

My husband and I have "inverse" roles in many ways. We work out systems around what is most effective, and what helps us love each other more. We make decisions together. We sacrifice for each other. The idea that I need to submit to him in a first century manner is astonishingly closed-minded. And what about my friends who are in same sex relationships and don't define themselves husband or wife? We aren't allowed to be complementary or harmonizing? Not according to Parnell's (Piper's) point of view--it's "un-biblical," thus un-glorifying to God.

He quotes a "pretend" conversation he had with a woman he heard at a conference. This is how he describes her: "The topic was content strategy on the Web, and the woman doing the talking was a respected author and guru in this particular field. She had brilliant insights on online trends and offered memorable one-liners, and somehow managed to bring up “sexism” at least four times. Her topic had little, if anything, to do with gender, but it became clear that she had been the victim of mistreatment in the past. Her references to gender equality became so prevalent, in fact, that in certain asides it could have passed as a women’s empowerment rally." 

My husband and I read this together and he articulated what I wanted to say so well: "Jonathon Parnell [i.e. also Piper] is a misogynist and an idiot. Parnell is obviously unaware that gender is no longer even popularly (never mind scientifically and theoretically) considered to be binary. For example, we have men with vaginas and women with penises. And it's not shocking. However, I bet he'd be shocked. Parnell wouldn't know queer if it was sitting in front of him. And like so many Christian men, he believes that transgressing traditional roles is a sign of abuse. What is actually shocking is that he jokes about sexual abuse and uses the joke to imply that the real woman he has an imaginary conversation with has been abused. So her problem is patriarchal violence and his solution is more patriarchy."

Right on.

He wants to defend his patriarchal views, against women who stand strongly opposed to sexism specifically in their industry. So he paints them as victims: they're lashing out against men because they're hurt. They sound like feminists but really, it's only because they've been wronged by a bad man out there. Anyway, they shouldn't talk about this at a web content strategy conference--take it to a women's empowerment rally!

Interesting to note that in this imaginary conversation, Jonathon Parnell, the author of this piece, can title himself "JP," yet titles the woman from Silicon Valley "SV." He speaks from his personal point of view. She has no name. A symbolic objectification.

"Strong" Women

When I read Kareem Abdul Jabbar's "The 'Strong Woman' Myth", I actually hooted and hollered. I love it when someone articulates what I've known all along. In this article, he discusses the use of "positive" modifiers for people groups in mass media, like saying "proud African Americans" or "strong women." He posits that the modifiers are insulting and detrimental to their communities because they also imply the opposite while being employed, or they take on a derogatory meaning all on its own. For example, "proud" can imply that there are many who aren't, and it has taken on the meaning of "uppity" or "arrogant." Even the word "white" in "white trash" implies that trash usually isn't white. "Strong" is used because women are typically considered "weak," and implies there are still many who are weak.

In my early twenties, I encountered a group of Asian American Christian men in my church, mostly Korean American, who took it upon themselves to label me, and several of my friends, "strong girls." They didn't even use the word "women." They meant it as a joke, to refer to the women in their church who aren't afraid to voice their opinions and debate with men. "Strong girls" didn't act like cooking and cleaning were their first priorities. Strong girls didn't act or look meek...humble. They laughed loudly, they interpreted the Bible in a thought provoking manner, and their intelligence stretched into the secular world. Sometimes they were even funnier than the boys. God fucking forbid.

Once, a guy came up to me to ask if I knew how to iron. I said, "Yeah, who doesn't." He went back to his group of gawking boys and they all exploded in giggles. Later, I found out there was a bet to see if I took on domestic tasks, being a strong girl and all.

It got spiritual too, of course. Suddenly, when the conservative woman in charge of teaching church leaders started saying that the women don't know their place in today's church, how women have improperly stopped wearing pantyhose, how women don't know how to serve anymore, how certain women were unteachable and proud, I felt invisible fingers starting to point at me. And although I couldn't change how I felt, my behavior started to change a bit, just to keep the invisible fingers at bay. I may have laughed more softly. I may have tried a new recipe for a small group Bible study dinner. I may have tried to look like I was praying harder and keeping my mouth shut.

(At this point, I'd like to take a moment to give a shout out to the guys who were friends, who never made me feel unattractive or too strong, the guys who respected me and cared for me. I won't forget you when I'm rich and famous.)

It all hurt my feelings at the time. I was young, and feeling very excited about my new found spirituality. I felt naive and manipulated by...the overall culture of the church? The church leaders? The boys who called me "strong"?

In my thirties, I'm married to a man who is smart and accomplished. It makes me incredibly competitive at times, and he has to remind me how much he respects me to get me to stop. It's crazy! I love him, respect him, am jealous of him, debate with him, tell him he's wrong, apologize to him, cry on his shoulder, let him cry on mine, and never in our marriage has he made me feel like those boys above. He doesn't call me "strong" as an insult because A) he's not a chauvinist, and B) he's secure in his identity and ability.

It took being married to a man like mine to realize those boys never had confidence. They wanted to be respected because of their positions in the church hierarchy of power, not because they deserve respect. And they wanted girls who were quiet and meek, the quintessential Christian wife who didn't care too much about their intellect, their appearance, or their voice, but still had to be thin, hot, and really good at everything behind the scenes. The kind of girl who will respect them simply because Ephesians says to respect the head of the family, whether they've earned it or not. Like this mystery woman exists. This ridiculous desire of theirs causes women to change their personalities, to downplay their talents, to silence their voices.

The reason I write this now is because I know there are still men like this in the church, making women feel too strong if they ever call a church skit sexist, or state that they're feminists, or simply disagree with a male church leader. The church will excuse their behavior because they are men and because they hold positions in the church, but the church will not validate the feelings of the women they affect. I certainly hope I'm wrong. I hope girls that choose to go to church today can freely be themselves. But I have a feeling that as long as churches hold on to the archaic notion that women don't belong in leadership, men will continue to accuse women of being "too strong."

Satan's Greatest Trick

"The greatest trick Satan ever pulled was making the world believe he didn't exist."

Do you know who said this ubiquitous little line? I didn't. I had to look it up. Charles Baudelaire wrote this in Paris Spleen, a book of prose poetry (before it was known as prose poetry), published in 1869.

In the evangelical community, I think the opposite is true. If Satan exists, his greatest trick is to heighten his importance in the church.

I've stumbled across a blog piece called "When Satan Steals Your Motherhood" published January 28, 2014. It's very sweet in some ways. The writer recalls moments of the day where her patience gave out, especially when it comes to her young son. At the end, her son doesn't recall those moments but only the one time where they played on the couch together. It's a lovely moment, recalling the innocence of childhood and shunning the evil of Satan within motherhood--a perfectly packaged ending with a call for action, to, uh, remember to be nice to your kids?

The writer believes that it's not the fact that you're on Pinterest too long, or that you're on the phone too long, or that you compare your kids to others, when Satan gets in. She writes, "No, it’s not the mistakes. It’s not the forgetfulness. It is what happens on the inside that no one else sees. And he knows just how to get to you."

Jesus Christ! Satan knows just how to get us? What does that mean? He knows how to make us feel guilty for being a typical mother? He knows how to creep into our families when they are in their normal state of chaos?

I hate this type of spiritualizing. It makes us paranoid, guilty, angry, scared, and worst of all, like sinners. Being a protestant myself, I know all about these feelings, especially while I attended a fundamentalist church where intentions count. Motives count. If you have "wrong motives," you are sinning. You need to repent. You need grace. 

Yes, we need grace, in every situation, sure. But I wonder what kind of existential grace this writer is asking for-- is it for being a middle to upper middle class woman who has the privilege of not working and raising children? Is it for all the times these women lose their temper or sit on the computer using the social network too long? I swear, my mother lost her temper at me daily for not practicing the piano long enough, for not studying more, for not caring about my B when I could get an A. And I know her prayers were nothing like the mother who wrote this piece. My mother was praying that she would be able to get through her graveyard shift just one more time, that her children would grow up faster so they could start speaking English, that her daughter would take her sacrifices as an immigrant and use them as building blocks for a different kind of life. Guess what? All her prayers were answered. 

I'm now a privileged person. I can take six months off for maternity leave and have my husband support me. Some days, my shitty attitude can be my worst problem. I'm in no way perfect--in fact, I'm judgmental, hot-tempered, competitive, a misanthrope, and a terrible speller. I can ask God to help me fight Satan in some weird spiritual way and remain the kind of individualistic Christian that our churches love to produce--those that concentrate only on their own holiness, those that defend CCM music, those that put on Mother's Day programs at church, those that value how they feel about God and read the Bible to suit their own needs. But I won't, because if Satan exists, this is his greatest trick--especially in the church. 

No, I will remember my mother's prayers. I will remember that there are millions and millions of people who have nothing to eat, nowhere to learn, and everything to pray for. I will continue trying to act justly, love mercy, walk humbly. When I fail, I will not tell myself and other women that Satan is out to steal our joy by using isolated quotes from the Bible. I will probably feel depressed for a while and maybe yell at my family. Then I will apologize and just keep trying. 

My response to a note sent by an evangelical

Recently, my friend's husband messaged me because of his "concern" for my eternal salvation. He is not a bad guy, but this kind of email is prototypical of "true believers." Here is a sample letter, a compilation of letters that people like me receive from time to time.

Praise,

(First some pleasantries)

I fear for you and your testimony. I've been reading some of your facebook posts and they don't reveal the Praise that I know.

Maybe you think that I should mind my own business and want to defriend me. But I do not fear of losing your friendship on a social network site... Rather I am moved by the fear of losing a friend eternally. 

Please understand I am not judging you - I'm just concerned. We used to pray together for missions.

I have to say that I was prompted to send you note and so I have.

I won't go into quoting scripture or outlining a sermon. Just know - I am praying for you.

With prayers (or In Christ, or In His hands),
Concerned Friend #231

My initial feeling was anger, as it usually is. Why do people have to judge me and say they're not judging me? They assume they have something to give me, that I can't give them. A helping hand to salvation. The way to righteousness. Knowledge of the love of God. And as if they are doing it out of true concern, when true concern begets action.

Instead of saying, "Hey Praise! Haven't talked to you in a while!" I get this spiritualized statement of concern: I fear for you and your testimony. I've been reading some of your facebook posts and they don't reveal the Praise that I know.

I'm not sure exactly what FB posts you are referring to. Are you upset about my use of swear words in some status updates (asshat, dickwad, cuntface, shall I go on)? Are you upset by my use of those words against FOX News, or people who make racially offensive remarks? Are you upset when I show my anger against sexism in the Korean American community and tell someone to fuck off?  What about pictures of me in front of tequila shots with my husband and friends? I've quit smoking, but I'm holding a cigarette in a few old photos. Am I hitting the nail on the head to your vague concern? 

You know what I'd really like? If you actually just...liked me. As a person. Thought I was funny or smart. Respected my intelligence. Enjoyed reading how I express myself. Wanted to get to know me. Wanted to expand your own view of Christianity and theology by engaging me in actual discourse. Asked me a question you were curious about concerning a status update. All of those responses would show me you care. The other stuff? Shows me you're religious. And I've really had enough of that.