presentation @ boston college

On March 29th I attended the Biennial Boston College Conference on History of Religion and presented a paper that tried, for the first time, to offer up some analysis regarding my current project. A big thanks to the conference coordinators for a great experience!

This project is, broadly, exploring the ways in which the Christian left negotiated sex, sexuality, and gender during the thirty year period between 1960 and 1980. Narrowly, for this paper, I looked at a ten-year period of the Methodist publication motive for clues regarding mainline Protestant conceptions of gender and sexuality. As I've mentioned before in this space, I'm particularly interested in what the magazine had to say about sexuality because after breaking with the church, the publication's final two issues focused on the topics of gay liberation and lesbian/feminism (their terminology). Rather than seeing this break as a natural, inevitable conflict between a traditionalist anti-gay church and more radical youth activists, I am asking why Christian left theology ultimately failed to provide a hospitable atmosphere for meaningful, nuanced discussion about queer sexual morality.

At least, that's what I'm fumbling my way toward asking. I'm not sure how close this one conference paper gets to that goal -- but it is a start. So for those who've been following my research this past year, I offer this work-in-progress as a reward.

Access the PDF online via Google Drive.

I'd also like to give a shout-out to my two excellent and inspiring co-panelists, Trevor Burrows (Purdue University) and Casey Bohlen (Harvard University), both of whom are working on aspects of Christian faith and political action during what we might term the "long Sixties" -- looking back into the 1950s and forward toward the 1980s.  I look forward to watching their progress as scholars and writers in the field.

quick hit: a must-read piece on ex-homeschool activists

The American Prospect has a most excellent article up today, The Homeschool Apostates, by Kathryn Joyce, exploring the growing visibility of young adults who are organizing and pushing back against their parents' decision to use home education as a tool for familial control:

Even conservative Patrick Henry felt like a bright new reality. While much about the college confirmed the worldview Lauren grew up in, small freedoms like going out for an unplanned coffee came as a revelation. She describes it as “a sudden sense of being able to say yes to things, when your entire life is no.”

Family ties began to fray after she met John, a fellow student who’d had a more positive homeschooling experience growing up; he took her swing dancing and taught her how to order at Starbucks, and they fell in love. Her parents tried to break the couple up—at one point even asking the college to expel Lauren or take away her scholarship for disobeying them. Their efforts backfired; soon after her graduation, Lauren married John and entered law school.

As someone who grew up within the early unschooling wave of the modern home education movement, and thrived within it, I often find myself frustrated by most media coverage of homeschooling -- it is too often simplistic, judgmental, one part awe (such well-behaved children!) one part hysteria (equating home education, per se, with child abuse). In contrast, Joyce does an excellent job of covering a specific type of homeschooling, as well as teasing out the highly gendered nature of Christian homeschooling culture. She also foregrounds the thoughtful, passionate voices of home-educated young people who look back on their childhoods and the Christian subculture they were immersed in with a critical eye.

While I don't agree with everything these ex-homeschoolers have to say, I think their voices are crucial ones for us to listen to -- particularly those of us who have benefited from the low level of state oversight that enabled our families to do our own thing while these controlling parents to did theirs. I don't always agree with the remedies these ex-homeschoolers propose, but I do believe their experiences must be taken seriously. We can't in good faith build a culture of learner-led education on the backs of young people who have been denied a very basic level of self-determination and autonomy.

Anyway. Go read the whole thing.

booknotes: does jesus really love me?

cross-posted from the family scholars blog.

On Friday, while stuck at home due to the "shelter in place" orders here in Boston, I read Jeff Chu's recent book Does Jesus Really Love Me?: A Gay Christian's Pilgrimage in Search of God in America (Harper, 2013).

Part memoir, part ethnography, part journalistic endeavor, Does Jesus...? is more impressionistic than it is polemical or scholarly. Chu offers a series of portraits, featuring both people (pastors, congregants, ex-Christians, agnostics) and institutions (from the Metropolitan Community Church, overwhelmingly queer in membership, to the Westboro Baptist Church). Across sections titled "Doubting," "Struggling," "Reconciling," and "Hoping," Chu offers us a tour around America and the religious and sexual-identity spectrum  as well, introducing us to individuals and congregations wrestling with the relationship between faith and queer sexuality. Chu himself has settled into a life of being gay and Christian, he nevertheless draws empathic (if at times slightly baffled) portraits of LGBT individuals who have forged other paths: queer folks who have been driven from the church or simply drifted away, a gay man who has chosen to remain celibate, a straight woman and gay man in a "mixed orientation" marriage. While he features a few high-profile individuals (Ted Haggard, Fred Phelps, Mary Glasspool), more of the voices in Does Jesus...? are unknowns: the Bible teacher fired from his job for a same-sex affair, the closeted young adult wrestling with if, when, and how to come out to his parents and community, the Christian musician who describes with charming self-deprecation her first gig at a lesbian bar.

I found myself thinking, as I read, a very librarian question: to whom might I recommend this book? One of the pastors Chu interviews offers the following observation: she sees anti-gay Christians and affirming/welcoming Christians trying to have two very different conversations in their discussions around homosexuality. The anti-gay contingent, she maintains, is focused on scriptural authority. The affirming group is focused on stories -- on personal testimony. If this is true (though I'm not ready to buy the theory wholesale), then Chu's book will not have much success in convincing those who believe Christianity demands abstaining from same-sex sexual activity. It is not a work of exegesis, of Biblical interpretation. It is not making a theological argument. Rather, Does Jesus...? is offering us a chance to reconsider our simplistic notions of what "Christian" and "gay," and the assumption that there is but one type of relationship between the two: a repressive or alienated one.

This is an approach that I think might resonate more strongly with the "personal testimony" contingent. With LGBT folks who are, themselves, wondering, "Does Jesus really love me?" Or with queer activists asking how to engage American believers in the LGBT push for equality and acceptance. Or with unchurched/secular-identified queer folks and allies who see the church as bolstering anti-gay sentiment and are baffled why queer Christians seek to remain in the fold.

For example, as a queer woman who grew up in a conservative Christian community (in a region settled by the Reformed Church in America, Chu's present denomination!) and attended a college with deep RCA roots, one of the chapters which spoke most directly to my own experience was the chapter about Harding University.  Or, more specifically, Harding University's student-published Queer Press zine, created and distributed by queer students and alumni primarily to reach out to other (largely closeted) students on the conservative Christian campus. Not only did the creators face a backlash from the administration, they also discovered that their sectarian struggle didn't always translate very well before a secular audience:

[Secular] bloggers would praise the zine but add, "Why would you go to a school that doesn't accept you for who you are?" or "Why not just leave?" These questions reflect a different type of thoughtlessness. For one thing, Harding students are just like millions of others who depend financially on Mom and Dad [to attend college]. Then there's the fact that, again like millions of others everywhere, these students are in a season of fragility and flux. They're still wrestling with their identities, their faith, and their homosexuality, which may not even be acknowledge before college. As one puts it to me, "It's not like someone woke up one morning and said, I'm gay but I'm to go there and make my life suck."

When queer students and allies at my alma mater were making a concerted effort to get the Board of Trustees to revisit their official anti-gay stance, some high-profile queer-friendly blogs got wind of the struggle and there was a lot of puzzlement over why these students had enrolled in, or remained at, such a hostile institution. Setting aside the reality that secular institutions are not always bastions of acceptance themselves, it seems important for non-Christian LGBT activists and allies to remember that "Christian" is often as deeply-held an identity as "lesbian," "bi," or "gay." To ask a queer person raised Christian why they don't just quit their faith is profoundly lacking in compassion or understanding for the complexity of the human soul.*

Overall, I highly recommend Does Jesus..? to anyone interested in reflecting on the human face of the culture war (for lack of a better term) over sexual diversity in American Christianity. It might also, given its episodic nature, make for really good Sunday School or Church reading group material.

Related: For those unable to put their hands on a copy of the book, Chu was a guest on the Diane Rehm Show back in March, and it was an excellent conversation. You can listen to the audio or read a full transcript of the interview (your support for NPR at work!) courtesy of WAMU.

---

*On a side note, I know many feminists who've encountered similar disbelief that they choose to reconcile their religiosity and their feminism -- often, in fact, grounding their feminist values in their faith. It's fascinating to me that so many people on both sides (the religious side or the queer/feminist side) view these aspects of self as oil-and-water opposites.

fun with amicus briefs! [doma & the supremes]

cross-posted from the family scholars blog.

(via)

Thanks to Amy's recent post that linked to John Culhane's piece on the importance of amicus briefs, I spent a nerdy afternoon this past weekend browsing through some of the many briefs submitted to the U.S. Supreme Court in relation to the two same-sex marriage cases that will be reviewed by the court this session. They are all available to read in PDF at the American Bar Association's website; you can also find a list at the SCOTUSblog. I thought I'd share a few highlights with you. Of particular interest to the folks at Family Scholars might be the brief submitted jointly by the Family Equality Council, Colage, Our Family Coalition, Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network, the Center on Children and Families,  the Child Rights Project, and Sarah Gogin. Together, they seek to represent the children raised by same-sex parents as well as young people who experience same-sex desire as they look toward a future forming adult relationships. They begin:

The voices of children raised by same-sex parents -- those who live every day within the family structure at the heart of these lawsuits -- are too often unheard in debates about same-sex couples and marriage. Their stories are too often missing from discussions of "traditional" families or "family values," and their personal experience too often discounted as irrelegant. Although those who oppose marriage for same-sex couples frequently make assumptions about the quality of the children's family lives, the children themselves are rarely asked to explain what they actually experience.

Throughout the brief, they foreground the voices of young people who are growing up with LGBT parents, and their list of "authorities" (the brief equivalent of a bibliography) offers a valuable starting point for thosee interested in learning more about the experience of people who have grown up within LGBT households. As the brief asserts,

Although the Proponents [of Proposition 8] claim an interest in stabilizing the American family structure, the elimination of marriage for same-sex couples in California and the refusal to recognize valid married couples on the federal level have the exact opposite effect. Placing an official stamp of governmental opprobrium on the relationships of same-sex parents instead serves to stigmatize and de-legitimize the relationships, and, as a result, the children themselves.

Not to mention, the children of our nation who will grow into adult same-sex desires and relationships:

By officially sanctioning their exclusion from marriage and placing existing marriages of same-sex couples in the singular position of being "not marriages" for federal law, these measures exacerbate feelings of hopelessness about the future and perpetual "different-ness" that many LGBT youth already feel and discourage them from aspiring to full participation in civic life.

As an historian, I was also pleased to see both the Organization of American Historians (OAH) and the American Historical Association  (AHA) had filed briefs discussing the history of marriage law in the United States. The AHA draws on the scholarship of its professional membership to make several key arguments: that the federal government has historically deferred to state law when determining marital status; that the meaning of marriage is not limited to procreation; that marriage practices have changed over time, and that this is a strength not a weakness of marriage as a social institution. From their summary of the arguments:

Control of marital status is reserved to the states in our federal system. Marriage has always been understood as a civil contract embodying a couple's free consent to join in long-lasting intimate and economic union. In authorizing marriage, states turn a couple's vows into a legal status, thus protecting the couple's bond and aiming moreover to advance general social and economic welfare. Throughout U.S. history, states have valued marriage as a means to benefit society. Seeing multiple purposes in marriage, states have encouraged maritally-based households as advantages to public good, whether or not minor children are present, and without regard to biological relationships of descent. ...For two centuries before 1996, state marital diversity reigned, along with serious inter-state contestation, without Congress stepping in to create marital "uniformity" for federal purposes. Congress never took a position on a marital eligibility question pre-emptively so as to discredit a policy choice that a state might make. Before DOMA, federal agencies assessed marriage validity by consulting the relevant state laws. In historical perspective, DOMA appears as an attempt by Congress to single out particular state-licensed marriages for disfavored treatment.

The OHA, in a brief filed with the American Studies Association, takes up a slightly different aspect of the case.  They outline the history of discrimination towards sexual minorities in the United States, and pointing toward legal precedent for taking history into account when assessing the full weight of discriminatory practice:

As professional organizations devoted to the study of American history and culture, amici are not before the Court to advocate a particular legal doctrine or standard. But they wish to advise the court that the historical record is clear. Gay men and lesbians in America have been subjected to generations of intense, irrational, and often violent discrimination, commencing as soon as they emerged as a group into American public consciousness and continuing today.

The NAACP Legal Defense & Educational Fund reminds the court of its historic role in guaranteeing equal protection rights to all citizens, asserting that "The role of the courts is to safeguard the rights of historically subordinated groups by applying heightened scrutiny to laws like DOMA, that disadvantage them as a class."

And finally, it was also heartening to see a number of briefs from religious organizations supporting marriage equality, including one filed on behalf of a truly heartwarming number of faith traditions: the Bishops Of The Episcopal Church In The States Of California, Connecticut, Iowa, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New York, Vermont, and Washington and The District Of Columbia; The Jewish Theological Seminary Of America; Manhattan Conference Of The Metropolitan New York Synod Of The Evangelical Lutheran Church In America; The Rabbinical Assembly; The Reconstructionist Rabbinical Association; Reconstructionist Rabbinical College; Rabbi Akiva Herzfeld Of Shaarey Tphiloh; The Union For Reform Judaism; Unitarian Universalist Association; United Church Of Christ; The United Synagogue Of Conservative Judaism; Affirmation; Covenant Network Of Presbyterians; Friends For Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, And Queer Concerns; Methodist Federation For Social Action; More Light Presbyterians; Presbyterian Welcome; Reconciling Ministries Network; Reconciling Works: Lutherans For Full Participation; and Religious Institute, Inc. (yes really!). Their premise is:

Americans are a religious people, but diversely so. Religious adherents differ on contentious issues, and religious bodies have themselves evolved and disagreed over time -- on marriage as well as other civil rights and social issues. In view of that history and the wide range of modern religious thought on same-sex unions, it would be a mistake to elevate any one view on marriage above all others as the "Christian" or "religious" view. Indeed, it would be constitutionally inappropriate, because civil marriage is a secular institution ... and the Constitution bars the government from favoring certain religious views over others ... Religious freedom means that all voices may contribute to our national conversation, but particular religious perspectives on marriage cannot be permitted to control civil recognition of marriage for all.

These highlights represent just a handful of the perspectives filed with the court, and I encourage all of you to go explore on your own -- and share what briefs spoke to you, and why, in comments.

so, that happened [a new guest blogging gig]

Ah, the strange and wondrous things that happen when you go traipsing around The Internet.

As you know, I've been hanging around the comment threads at Family Scholars Blog for awhile now. In part because I'm interested in how the other half lives thinks.  In part because I like to argue.

And in part because, in the very selfish, immature corner of my brain-heart-body it irks me that there are people out there who really think that I'm "depraved on account I'm deprived" (or some variation thereof). I'm fascinated and appalled that people feel so threatened by my existence as a (gay) married, sexually-active bisexual that they try to pass laws to erase my (gay) married existence, and -- when that fails -- simply say that my marriage isn't real.

It's fascinating, as I say, and appalling.

And not a little frightening. To know that my life excites such fear, angst, anger, and loathing.

I like to keep all that in sight, watchfully.

Well, then a couple of weeks ago they invited me to blog with them, as a regular guest blogger. 

And my first reaction was absolutely not, no. But I said I'd think about the offer. Talk to some people. Sleep on it.

What could I possibly bring to that site, as a guest blogger, that I wasn't already bringing in comments? And, more importantly, why did they want me? I admitted to myself fears that I might simply be being recruited as a Poster Lesbian: "See? She plays well with others!" they might say, and when accused of anti-gay bias the group could point to my guest blogger bio: "See?! We even have a Queer Feminist Gay-Married Bisexual writing for us!"

Wouldn't I be risking, on some level, being their Queer Cover? The sexual-identity equivalent of the Black Friend?

But then I started to think about what I might be able to offer in such a space, to those who were truly open to listening (and, yes, though I complain about those who revile and erase me more, the more contemplative conservatives exist).

And this is what I thought. That much of the conversation about queerness, feminism, and other lefty-liberal modes of being at the Family Scholars Blog (FSB) takes place without reference to -- let alone centering of -- actual queer / feminist / lefty-liberal voices or experiences. Even when those voices are referenced, it's generally in the form of a sound bite we're all supposed to know is ridiculous or wrong-headed ("pfft, look at those hysterical feminists with their foolish notions about gender equality -- what do they know").

Well, I'd like to talk about what it is we do know, and what life looks like from where we stand.

So I've accepted the FSB offer, and I'm going to start a monthly series there (cross-posted here), "The Feminist Librarian's Bookshelf," with 3-to-5 titles per post as suggested reading on a theme ("gender and neuroscience," "teenagers and sexuality," "queer families"). My hope is that I can offer a glimpse into the literature that informs those of us who take a quite different view than many, if not most, at the FSB, with regards to family life. I'm not particularly aiming to convert, although obviously it would be nice if some of my favorite authors resonated with readers here and there. My goal is to encourage people to "walk a mile in someone else's shoes," and think about what it might be like if you were to look at the world through the eyes of a lefty lesbian teenage, a liberal Latina mama, a feminist trans* woman, an asexual anarchist, a socialist living in poverty, or hippie home-educators.

There's talk over at the FSB about civility of discourse, about meeting people halfway and compromising, about being willing to doubt (one's own truths) and being open to having one's mind changed.

I'm not sure how I feel about these values. I sometimes feel there is a type of privilege at work here, in which  unexamined certitude is disproportionately a problem of those whose worldviews and values are reflected back at them from mainstream culture. Those on the margins not only have the value of self-doubt shoved in their faces 24/7, they must learn to see the world through the eyes of the privileged and powerful in order to survive. Indeed: part of my fascination with the religious right comes from growing up a liberal-progressive (dare I say radical!) minority within a conservative Christian culture. I had to learn how Christian conservatives understood the world in order to survive. They didn't have to learn anything about me, if they didn't care to.

So I'll be walking a mindful line over there, at FSB, between recognizing the true values of civil conversation, of lovingkindness and compassion, of being open to new experiences and viewpoints, of being open to the change those experiences and viewpoints will wreak within me -- and at the same time holding my own, in part by example demonstrating that it is possible for a diversity of individuals with very different lives to co-exist in a democracy without the world imploding. We don't all have to be alike, and that's okay. We don't all have to fear others who are different from us and/or those who choose a different way of life. Their different choices don't, for the most part, constrain our own freedom of choice unduly.

You can read my self-introduction over a FSB and I'll be cross-posting Thursday's bookshelf post (five novels that influenced my adolescent perspective on love and romance) here.

booknotes: book of mormon girl

I rarely have the time these days to invest in comment threads on blogs, though I skim hundreds of RSS-scraped posts every day via Google Reader. Yet over the past few months, I've spent quite a bit of time over at the Family Scholars blog, engaging with socially conservative bloggers and commenters about issues such marriage equality and queer family formation.

I actually find the practice almost ... soothing.

Hanna, meanwhile, is mystified about my motivations, since just having me describe some of the interactions I have there ramps up her anxiety and stress levels to uncomfortable proportions. And I find I don't have very articulate reasons for why I find arguing with the opposition -- bearing witness, speaking up for my point of view -- to be an almost meditative practice.

Except that, growing up and going to college where I did, it's what I've had to do by default most of my life. So it's what feels comfortable, feels familiar: standing on the edges knocking politely on the door to remind those on the inside (of the mainstream culture, church, school, whatever) that I'm still here.

I don't necessarily want to be let in? It's a nice world, in many ways, where I am out here. I've always been a fan of fresh air and expansive horizons.

But I don't want them to forget that I'm out here.

Another aspect of my insistence on being a complicating presence came home to me while I was reading Joanna Brooks' Book of Mormon Girl (Free Press, 2012) this past week. It had been on my radar for awhile, but what prompted me to read it was an email from a friend of mine, a former member of the LDS church, who has walked away from the faith in his adulthood for a variety of reasons not the least of which is the fact that he's gay and the Mormon church is not all that cool -- at least at an institutional level -- with queerness. He'd found the book a disorienting read, he reported to me, because while he's quit the church entirely Brooks continues to struggle mightily with her inherited faith and childhood experience, and the betrayal of the community she once felt safe within when she stepped outside the bounds of orthodoxy (as an outspoken Mormon feminist, queer ally married to a Jewish man). Why did she continue to fight to belong in a church that clearly pushed her away, hard, with both hands?

It's a stubbornness I recognize, though I wasn't actually raised in the church (Mormon or otherwise). The faith of my heritage was loosely Protestant, my father the son of a New Testament theologian, my mother the mostly unchurched daughter of a Christian Scientist and disbelieving Scotch Presbyterian. In my adolescence, we attended a liberal Dutch protestant church (a denomination in the Reformed Church in America) for a handful of years where I argued passionately with Conservative youth leaders from my position as a nascent feminist and tried to envision the Church as a pathway to effectively channel my welling passion for social justice.

Then I went to college and discovered feminist theology which offered (though I didn't have these words at the time) a way of thought and action that was both intersectional and spiritual: a faith of uncompromising social justice, nonviolent action, solidarity, and equality: each and every one of us is a child of God. Full worthy to be loved and capable of loving.

It's a theology that I, unchurched though I am, continue to strive for in the spiritual practice of daily living.

And it felt like a theology that many religious folk around me were uninterested in pursuing.

I've said before, and I'll repeat it here, that I found my Christianity and left the church in more or less the same breath.

I saw what Christianity could be and is, at its best and brightest, and in my adolescent impatience had no time for those preoccupied with orthodoxy at the expense of lovingkindness. Lacking the deep roots of religious history, community, family, and faith that ties women like Joanna Brooks to the church -- and I know many of them, ardent feminist thinkers, queers, social justice workers, all fighting past the burnout to build a Church I would be proud to call mine -- I up and quit and walked away.

But in part because of the women (and I know there are men, too, but it's the women I think of in these moments, the ones who stand up and refuse not to be counted) I keep circling back. I keep tapping on the door, poking my head in, and reminding folks that my life, too, is relevant to the conversation: You're talking about the welfare state? I might be financially secure right now, but I've had state-subsidized healthcare. You're talking about male headship? Let me talk to you about sex, gender, and humanity. You're talking about same-sex marriage? Let me introduce you to my wife, our two cats, and quotidian details of our lives.You're talking about war? Let's talk about the history of religious nonviolence.

My mother has always said that she won't join any church that constructs an "us" from which a "them" is excluded, kept at arms length, on the outside. Which is why, to this day, she remains unbaptized (and why none of us children were baptized), and certainly informs my own decision not to seek church membership.

But I keep tapping at the door. I keep having the conversations. I want to bear witness (imperfect, broken, human, though I am) to the fact that we could do better and that I know there are those working mightily within the Church, as well as without, to make it so.

Hmm. The plan was to write a book review, but clearly I had other things to say. Still: Book of Mormon Girl is sweet, funny, heartbreaking, thoughtful, and passionate. As a queer American I found the chapter on Proposition 8 particularly painful to read; as a woman who came of age about 5-10 years after Brooks, I found her chapter on feminism and faith, and the trauma of the LDS purges in the 90s (when the hierarchy excommunicated a number of liberal intellectuals and activists, and declared feminists, gays, and lesbians the "enemy") to be particularly resonant. As an historian with an interest in the personal journeys of those who grow up in fundamentalist, evangelical circles, Brooks' narrative was of scholarly interest to me as well. I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to think more deeply about what it means to be a politically and socially progressive person in the context of a reactionary religion.

in which I write letters: dear alma mater ... again

Diane De Young
Associate Director of the Hope Fund
Hope College
PO Box 9000
Holland, MI 49424-9000

4 September 2012 

Dear Ms. De Young,

Thank you for your recent letter alerting me to the upcoming Hope College Phonathon. I am writing to explain why I will not be contributing to the campaign; you are welcome to share my reasons with whomever might benefit from this information. 

As I'm sure your records indicate, I attended Hope College from 1998-2005, graduating with a BA in Women's Studies and History (double major). During my seven years at Hope, I formed lasting relationships with my faculty mentors and received what I would consider a superior college education. While at Hope, I benefited from merit and need-based scholarships, as well as the tuition benefit awarded to children of Hope College employees (my father is Mark Cook, director of the Hope-Geneva Bookstore). The quality of my Hope College experience was part of what enabled me to make the most of my graduate education at Simmons College, where I completed an MA in History and an MS in Library Science. Today, I serve as the Reference Librarian at the Massachusetts Historical Society, and this past March I had the rewarding experience of returning to Hope College as a guest speaker at the Women's Studies Celebration. I was recently asked to provide a letter of support for Dr. Jeanne Petit as she is considered for promotion to the rank of Full Professor, a request it was my pleasure to fulfill.

However, as a woman who will shortly be marrying my girlfriend of the past three years here in Massachusetts, I am a Hope College alumni who feels unwelcome and unloved by the institution as a whole. In April 2010, as the Board of Trustees was revisiting their support of the current Institutional Statement on Homosexuality, I wrote to then-Chairperson Joel Bowens and explained that until Hope College alters its position on human sexuality to be affirming of all a full range of human orientations, identities, and desires, I will not support the college financially. I cannot in good conscience send money to an institution that does not recognize the legitimacy of my primary relationship. I will speak up whenever given the opportunity -- such as during fundraising campaigns -- against the actions and words of the Board, and of Hope as an institution, that continue to create a hostile environment for faculty, staff, students, and alumni who are not straight or do not believe that non-straight sexuality is immoral.

I will continue to speak highly of the faculty who mentored me, and provide what support I can to individuals and programs that are welcoming and affirming to all (such as the Women's Studies program). Yet I will not be participating in the Phonathon, in the Hope Fund, or any other fundraising campaigns until Hope College as an institution recognizes and affirms the lives of those of us who find joy and meaning in same-sex relationships.

I look forward to watching Hope's progress toward a more inclusive future, and hope that someday I will be able to respond to your requests without reservation.

Sincerely,

Anna

Anna J. Cook ('05)
# Xxxxxxx Xx. Apt #
Xxxxxxx, MA
02134

in which I write letters: the problem with throwing religious home-educators under the bus

Dear Claire,

I'm writing to you as a long-time reader of The Tenured Radical, as a fellow blogger, fellow leftist, and individual who spent the first seventeen years of my life learning outside of school -- as did my fiancee, until she entered public high school. I wanted to respond to your post regarding home education and the religious right.

I realize that in our contemporary landscape "homeschooling" in the public eye has become virtually synonymous with conservative Christian organizations like the Home School Legal Defense Fund (which actually financed a lot of the court battles that made home education legal for families of all political persuasions), and families who take their children out of public schools for fundamentalist religious reasons. However, I find your characterization of home education "as a grassroots movement" being anti-intellectual and anti-citizenship troubling.

Yes, you are talking about a specific subset of home-educating families and philosophies, but throughout your piece you obscure the wide variety of motivations to home education and styles of learning and teaching by using "home schoolers" as a substitute for "fundamentalist-evangelical Christian conservative homeschoolers." As a woman who grew up as part of the "grassroots" home education movement in Michigan during the 1980s and 90s, this erases my experience -- and the experience of many of my contemporaries -- whose home-based education expanded horizons, rather than limiting and controlling them.

You say in your post:

Public education is about putting citizens in the making in one place to talk to each other and learn together.  Is it an accident that when large numbers of voters fail to participate in a common enterprise with Americans not of their choosing that we have so little to say to each other during an election season?

I have seen a lot of anti-homeschooling liberals express similar sentiments, that home education is somehow inherently un-democratic because it removes children from the public square. This is a very limited understanding of the potential of learning outside of school, and in fact many of the progressive home-education folks I know would argue precisely the opposite: that home-based education takes children out of the age-segregated ghetto of school and brings them into the community at large.

As a home-educated child, rather than spending my days in a school building I volunteered at cultural institutions such as the public library and the local history museum, participated in community art classes and music groups, in sports activities and "field trips." I held part-time jobs as a teenager that not only gave me excellent work experience but also further grounded me in the community. I was involved in church, another locus of social interaction and civic participation.

Obviously, this is not an automatic benefit of home-based education. But I would argue that exposure to a wide range of viewpoints, diversity, and the values of civic participation is not an automatic benefit of public education either. Public schools can be homogeneous, and educators narrow-minded, just like individual parents and families can be. My siblings both attended public high school for part of their grade-school education and benefited from that experience; my brother now teaches art in a public middle school. I am grateful that public provision of education is part of our nation's commitment to its citizens, and feel that -- like hospitals or roads! -- public schools are our responsibility to fund whether or not we choose to, or need to, access those services.

Suffice to say, I believe it is a profound mis-characterization of home-education per se to suggest it is at root an anti-democratic, anti-public-spirited endeavor. Obviously, some people who make the choice to home-educate will do so for sectarian reasons, to withdraw from the society at large, because of profound disagreement with mainstream policies. There are examples to be found on the left as well as the right in this regard. But I would argue that this is a freedom-of-conscience decision. There is a long tradition in the United States of allowing parents to decide what the best method of education provision for their family is; compulsory education does not mandate form or content for good reason -- local, familial, and religious priorities and needs vary. There is no "one size fits all" that would work well for the majority.

I believe that demonizing/scapegoating people who choose to home-educate for religious reasons actually threatens the freedom of all of us to form and organize our families as we see fit (see: same-sex marriage, polyamory, attachment parenting, etc.). It is certainly within our rights to point out that some forms of parenting foster us/them thinking -- but home education is not the cause of that parenting outcome. It is simply the chosen method of delivery for some families. It is a tool, not a uniform ideology, and the values a family holds will shape how home education works for that family, rather than home education pre-determining an exclusionist, reactionary outcome.

In closing I want to thank you for your articulate, insightful blogging at The Chronicle; I have your blog in my Google Reader and regularly click in to read what you have to say. As a fellow blogger I realize that no one post can cover all aspects of an issue. In this instance, I just wanted to share my perspective as someone "on the ground" as a home-educated adult, who has been on the receiving end of fellow liberals' suspicion of home-based education for many years! I think that the picture is (as always) much more complex than outsiders perceive it to be, and conflating "home education" with "reactionary conservative isolationist" does more harm than good.

Sincerely,
Anna

booknotes: pray the gay away

Between the winter of 1987 and the summer of 1988, Boston-based journalist Neil Miller traveled across the United States "in search of gay America." Though he spoke to women and men in the "well-trodden ... urban gay ghettos" of Washington, D.C., New York City (the "gay metropolis"), and San Francisco, his primary purpose was to document the experience of queer folks living in what coasters refer to as "flyover" states, the "red state" regions of the American South, Great Lakes, Midwest, and Plains states. As Miller writes:

Acceptance and self-acceptance amidst the anonymity of cities like New York and Los Angeles and even Boston meant little, I was convinced. One had to travel beyond the large metropolitan areas on the two coasts to places where diversity was less acceptable, where it was harder to melt into the crowd ... that was where the majority of gay people lived anyway, even if you didn't read about them in the gay press or see them on the evening news (In Search of Gay America, 11).

What Miller found in his travels was that queer people in the heartland were often less visible than their East and West coast counterparts; they kept their heads down and their mouths shut, maybe living in a community where everyone knew they were gay but no one openly acknowledged it. Many of Miller’s interviewees talked about the social isolation, particularly if they were un-partnered; in the pre-internet era single lesbians and gay men often had to travel regularly to urban centers to meet and socialize with others like themselves.

In the two decades since Miller's travels, much has changed in the world of LGBT visibility, culture, and activism -- yet our collective understanding of queer culture remains focused on urban, coastal areas as gay-friendly, while the rest of the country is dismissed (especially by those who don't live there) as a place where "diversity is less acceptable" and life is harder for queer men and women trying to make their way in the world.  Bernadette Barton's new study, Pray the Gay Away: The Extraordinary Lives of Bible Belt Gays (New York University Press, October 2012) both confirms and complicates this narrative.

A Massachusetts-born academic who moved with her partner to Kentucky, Barton was taken aback when a neighbor denounced homosexuality as a sin after Barton came out to him. Curious to understand how "Bible Belt gays" experienced this climate of casual anti-gay sentiment, she began interviewing gays and lesbians who grew up in what she terms the "Bible Belt panopticon," the southern mid section of the nation in which tight-knit communities and strong evangelical, fundamentalist Christian culture come together to create and police conservative norms. When the normative culture is implicitly anti-gay, open bigotry is not needed to encourage self-policing. For example, Barton quotes an interviewee reacting to a church billboard proclaiming, "Get Right or Get Left":

Get right means to be saved and get left means to be left behind at the Resurrection, but this also conveys the dual message of the church's political affiliation as well. It's very polarizing, and when I read it, it sounds like a threat.

Barton observes:

This is an example of how antigay rhetoric, especially to a Bible Belt gay, doesn't have to say anything at all about homosexuality. It's the associations. A Bible Belt gay knows homosexuality isn't included in the right column.

Pray the Gay Away explores different ways in which this Bible Belt panopticon manifests, from family expectations to ex-gay ministries, gay-unfriendly workplaces and legislation to ban same-sex marriage. Throughout, the voices of Barton’s interviewees are powerful evidence in support of her thesis. One graduate student, for example, tells Barton about how his parents tried exorcism when they found out he was in a same-sex relationship. When he remained unrepentant they not only disowned him and cut all financial support, but also removed all of his belongings from his dorm room before they returned home. Through the support of his campus community, the student was able to remain in school -- but the resilience of the child does nothing to redeem the horrific behavior of his parents.

I grew up in West Michigan, an area that is -- though technically outside the Bible Belt proper -- incredibly religiously and politically conservative. Reading Barton's work, I found much to identify with in its descriptions of life in a community that resists difference and where anti-gay feeling is commonplace. I was particularly struck by her observation that in such communities, "gay" and "straight" are the only two categories a person can belong to. Anyone who is something other than straight is “gay.” You're either "right," after all, or "left." That observation made me wonder whether it took me so long to recognize my own sexual fluidity in part because I literally had no language with which to describe myself.

Though I no longer have to live in a culture that makes it difficult (if not dangerous) to speak of my existence, I am mindful that what Barton terms the “toxic closet” effects everyone whom anti-gay bigotry touches, not just queer folk. My parents, for example, felt profoundly alienated when the city council rejected an anti-discrimination ordinance last year. And my grandmother is uncertain with whom she can safely share the joyful news of my marriage. The “Bible Belt panopticon” constrains us all.

At times, Pray the Gay Away seems to paint the Bible Belt as a monolithic culture of hate. I was pleased to see how careful Barton is to point out that she "deliberately sought out individuals who grew up in homophobic families and churches to best explore their consequences," and that her narrative describes the normative culture of the Bible Belt, rather than attempting to describe all people therein. (For a broader examination of queer folks' relationships with their families of origin, see the excellent Not in This Family by Heather Murray.) Barton’s conversations with gay Christians and gay-friendly church leaders, as well as her nuanced exploration of ex-gay ministries help show that even situations which appear toxic at first glance often contain more complex realities.

Yet ultimately, Barton argues that in the Bible Belt region "rampant expressions of institutional and generalized homophobic hate speech in the region bolster individually held homophobic attitudes and encourage those who have dissenting opinions to remain silent." One lesbian student whom she interviews theorizes that it might even be accurate to identify these anti-gay attitudes and actions as "gay cultural genocide.”

I highly recommend Pray the Gay Away to anyone with an interest in contemporary queer experience, in Bible Belt Christianity, and the intersection of the two. I’d go so far as to say it’s required reading for anyone who cares about what it means to be gay in America today. Whether or not you’ve ever lived in the “toxic closet” yourself, too many of our fellow citizens still wake up there every morning. We owe it to them to listen to the stories they have so generously shared.

Cross-posted at In Our Words.

'the act of marriage' live-blog: abortion bonus post (the end)

See also: intro, ch 1, ch 2-3, ch 4-5, ch 6-7, ch 8-10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14.

As promised on Tuesday, here is the bonus post reproducing the section in The Act of Marriage which deals with abortion. It's notable, I think, that a Christian book on sexuality deals with abortion only in the final chapter, in a question-and-answer section, rather than having either a) a chapter devoted to the subject, or b) addressing abortion in the chapter on family planning. This may seem odd to present-day readers, who are used to abortion being one of the rallying cries of the "family values" coalition. But actually, abortion did not become a major political issue for non-Catholics until the late 70s. So the way abortion is handled in The Act of Marriage is a fascinating sliver of post-Roe, pre-Operation Rescue abortion ethics for evangelicals. I'm reproducing the text here in full, with my interleaved commentary.

ABORTION: Is it ever right for a Christian woman to have an abortion?

Note immediately how the question is framed: "a Christian woman." This phrasing pulls the question from the realm of law and politics and places it in the realm of personal, religious conscience. Since no one can be forced to be a Christian in the United States, and whatever the LaHayes say subsequently applies only to Christian women, there is no explicit coercion -- no forced birth, at least in the legal sense. Obviously, a woman could be pressured and forced on a much more intimate scale by religious community, doctor, and family -- but this is not being framed as a matter of law.

A crucial issue in today's society relates to the morality of abortion. Ever since the 1973 Supreme Court ruling granted a constitutional guarantee of privacy in such matters and left the decision to the individual woman during the first six months of her pregnancy, legalized abortions have increased at a catastrophic rate. Many opponents of abortion warned that if it were made legal, it would result in promiscuity, infidelity, venereal disease, and guilt. Who can deny the accuracy of their forecast?

On the other hand, we do start out at the gate talking about Roe v. Wade. And it's clear the LaHayes feel the decision led to general degradation. Notice what's not listed in the results of abortion? That's right: murder. They're talking about sexual misbehavior, not about baby-killing. In a lot of ways, these are still the root concerns of sexual conservatives -- they've just learned that "baby killing" is a much more effective rhetorical move. Basically, the concerns the LaHayes list here about abortion mirror the concerns they have about secular, humanistic, "un-Christian" sexual mores in general. No more, no less.

There are two kinds of abortions -- natural and induced. Although medical science cannot always tell why, some women abort their pregnancies naturally, which may be nature's way of dealing with birth defects or other prenatal complications. Induced abortions are medically simple if performed by a competent doctor in the early stages of pregnancy.  

The way miscarriage and abortion are grouped together here,  and the accurate observation that early-stage abortions are "medically simple" and can be performed safely by a trained physician, serve to reassure the reader, to normalize the idea of abortion. This is not a passage designed to frighten or shock.

There are two reasons for inducing an abortion: (1) when such action is necessary to save the life of the mother -- called "therapeutic abortion"; and (2) for the convenience of the mother because she is either unmarried or does not want the child. In such cases those making such a decision must bear the moral responsibility for their actions.

So they're creating two distinct categories here, and it looks as if category one ("therapeutic abortion") is deemed "necessary" and not at moral issue here -- and even the second category, abortion for "convenience" is not automatically decried.

Christians as a rule know that the Bible condemns murder; consequently, many use the sixth commandment as justification for condemning all forms of abortion. The problem is that the Bible is not clear as to when the fertilized egg becomes a person -- at the moment of conception, or when the embryo develops into a fully formed human being at three to six months. If one regards the fertilized egg as just "a living cell" that has potential to become a human, it is easier to approve of some form of abortion than if he believes that the soul enters at conception.

Throughout The Act of Marriage the LaHayes are careful to differentiate between moral parameters they find support for in the Bible (homosexuality; adultery) and those which they don't necessarily approve, but about which the Bible is silent (oral sex; birth control). They make no exception for abortion, suggesting that Biblical censure of abortion hinges on whether abortion equals murder -- and notice that they leave that question open-ended!

We faced this problem initially when a mother of four who thought she could not have any more children became pregnant. Because of a rare blood condition, her doctor advised, "If you do not get an abortion, the birth of this child will take your life." If we had relied only on the sixth commandment, our response would have resulted in murder either way -- the mother or the unformed child. After much prayer we counseled the couple to follow their doctor's recommendation.

The modern-day anti-choice movement rarely, if ever, places the pregnant woman's life at the center of the story in this way -- let alone articulate the notion that two lives may be at stake here: the pregnant woman as well as that (potential) life of an "unformed child." The abortion debate has sidelined women's lives in the interest of focusing on what happens inside the womb, as if it were somehow disembodied from the woman who must decide (or be forced) to carry the pregnancy to term inside herself.

I think it's also notable that the example above is of a woman who is already a parent. Often, in the anti-choice rhetoric of today, women-who-have-abortions and women-who-give-birth-and-parent are imagined as two separate populations; in this instance, they are found (as they most often are) in the same person.

Another case involved an innocent fourteen-year-old rape victim. The crime occurred while she was coming home from school, and investigation disclosed she had never seen the man before.

Ah perfect-victim-stranger-rape, how we miss hearing about you ... oh, wait.

We felt that she had been through enough trauma. Certainly a loving God would not require an innocent girl, victim of a man's bestial appetite, to drop out of school, endure nine months of pregnancy, and inaugurate motherhood before her fifteenth birthday. We found that her pastor's approval was very important for her mental and spiritual rehabilitation. To this day only about six people know of this tragedy, and now, some years later, she is a happy, well-adjusted wife and mother.

Again we see the melding of women-who-have-abortions and women-who-are-mothers. Yes, the approval of abortion as an option in this instance is predicated on the "stranger rapes innocent girl" trope, but these days many anti-choicers argue against exceptions for rape/incest and the life of the mother.

Still another case concerned a couple who had a retarded child and were expecting again. A chemical analysis indicated that their unborn child would also be malformed in some way. After much prayer and soul-searching, we advocated a therapeutic abortion. Admittedly, we may some day have to account to God for these decisions, but to our best understanding of the Bible and the peace we had in our hearts at the time, we have no regrets.

I find it fascinating that they hold up these decisions difficult, human decisions for which there may be no fully right answer. They may "some day have to account to God" for the way they counseled families to seek abortions, but they "have no regrets" about encouraging families to choose abortion, even when the life of the mother was not immediately at stake. Particularly in this last instance, their decision-making process included a much more comprehensive understanding of family well-being and caretaking capacity than is normally up for discussion in present-day anti-abortion circles.

Through these experiences we have developed the following opinion on the subject.

Once again, the distinction between Biblical truth and the LaHayes' (albeit pastorally-authoritative) ethics.

We oppose abortion for all personal or selfish reasons, but accept therapeutic abortion in those rare cases in which a Christian doctor, minister, and the girl's parents prayerfully agree that it is in the best interest of either the mother or the unborn child. If a girl or woman is immoral and becomes pregnant, she should bear the responsibility for her actions by giving birth to the child.

Slut shaming in all its glory!

If she is a minor, we recommend that a Christian couple who desires a child be found and the child be adopted immediately after birth; the man involved should pay all necessary expenses plus room and board for the girl during her pregnancy. We do not believe that a forced marriage is always a solution, for it depends on the two people's ages and whether one is an unbeliever. We have observed that unless the couple is mature enough to marry, they start out with so many strikes against them that marriage becomes a tragic mistake following an unfortunate sin. Better that they confess their sin in God, then responsibly do what is best for the unborn child (235-237).

They don't articulate it in so many words here, but I think it's telling that -- in the mid-1970s! -- they're still assuming that an underage teenager will be sent to an unwed mother's home for the duration of her pregnancy (why else the need for "room and board"?). And while this is obviously far from a liberal-progressive position on teen pregnancy, I appreciate the changing mores that allowed the LaHayes to encourage their readers not to pressure teens into shotgun marriages before the baby was born, in fact suggesting that "what is best for the unborn child" may, in fact, not be a childhood spent in an unhappy household.

So there you have it: fundamentalist, evangelical Christian abortion ethics, circa 1976. If only we could make our way back to even that narrow window of opportunity!

'the act of marriage' live-blog: ch 14 (questions answered, from a-to-zed)

See also: intro, ch 1, ch 2-3, ch 4-5, ch 6-7, ch 8-10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13.

Can you believe we've reached the end? After this week's installment, you should know everything you need to know about sexual intimacy in Christian marriage, and I should be fully equipped to be an Adequate Lady Spouse to my Future Wife.

The final chapter of The Act of Marriage is an FAQ chapter, "Practical Answers to Common Questions," from Abortion to Temperament with lots in between. I'm actually going to reproduce the response on abortion in full Thursday, in a separate post, because I think it's a fascinating window into evangelical Christian abortion ethics circa 1976. I think it will contain some surprises for those used to late-twentieth-century anti-choice plan-B-is-murder hardliners. Don't worry! There's still plenty of slut-shaming. But there's no discussion of whether or not abortion should be legally accessible, and the pregnant woman herself doesn't disappear from view as is often the case in current-day discussions of whether a fertilized egg has rights independent of the person in whose womb it might grow to term.

But first! For a whirlwind tour of Christian sexual ethics, from A-to-Zed (I get 0-10 points based on my level of agreement with the LaHaye's stance):

Abortion. "Is it ever right for a Christian woman to have an abortion?" Yes, sometimes. As long as she's not seeking an abortion for the wrong reasons. (More on this later.) [4]

Adultery. Assumed to be morally wrong* but something which a) is probably the wife's fault on some level for not meeting her husband's needs, and b) something for which the wife must forgive her husband, provided he "repents" and cuts off all contact with the lover. And yes, the husband is the presumed guilty party. [5]

Birth Control. As discussed in previous posts, birth control is considered morally sound to limit family size, as long as couples do not outright reject parenting. Couples are counseled to be intentional about how many children they can care for, and how many pregnancies the mother can healthfully sustain. [8]

Communication. Communication around sexual matters is deemed essential in marriage, though readers are counseled not to speak of any previous relationships ("some perverted") with their spouse. [8]

Counseling. Counseling is advised, as long as it is obtained from a minister or Christian therapist. [5]

Dating. Young people can date, but should seek out Christian partners, and refrain from sexual activity except with their "life's partner" for their body is a temple of God. Oral stimulation may or may not count as "sex" but is "much too intimate for unmarried people" (245). [2]

Ejaculation. Delay, delay, delay, and make sure your wife comes first! [0]

Fantasy. Fantasizing about anything other than your spouse in a sexual context is lust and therefore sinful. Don't do it. Avoid "suggestive" material and pray. "Bring your mind into obedience with Christ (2 Cor. 10:5) and cast down all evil imaginations" (248). [0]

Foreplay. Desirable, especially among women. "Haste makes waste ... certainly applies to lovemaking" (249) and the clit and the breasts definitely deserve some attention. [5]

Fornication. See "Adultery."

Free Love. Damages spiritual and physical health, is too impersonal, creates "unfair and unnecessary comparisons" (250), causes feelings of guilt, isn't free, and is, in fact, WRONG. "God's standards are not flexible" (251). Living together prior to marriage decreases marital satisfaction. At the same time, parents are urged not to cut ties with children who are living in sin. [1]

Frequency. "Whatever rate of frequency brings joy and fulfillment to the two of you is 'average'for you" (253). [10]

Frigidity. Is a psychological condition caused in daughters by cold, distant fathers. Can be overcome with God's help. [1]

Genitalia. A range in size and appearance of genitalia is normal, clitoral stimulation is central to women's satisfaction, Christian women shouldn't bother to get breast implants ("you need to accept yourself as God made you") and if you have trouble reaching orgasm after hysterectomy it's a psychological not physical problem.** [5]

Homosexuality. Is a sexual perversion. Childhood exploration of one's own genitals is normal, and should not be punished.*** We don't know what causes homosexuality, but likely a combination of factors - though not single-parent families. Conversion to Christianity is the only power to redeem a person from homosexual sin. [0]

Impotence. See chapter ten.

Love. "No Christian should endure marriage without it ... [and] every wife has the right to expect to be loved to orgasm" (267-68). [8]

Marriage Adjustment. "Slam the divorce door, which is not a live option for Christians" (268).^ [0]

Masturbation. "Is it wrong for a Christian to masturbate?" No acceptable (see "Fantisizing"), even following divorce or widowing, or if your spouse fails to satisfy during intercourse. [0]

Menstruation. It's not sinful or unhealthy to have sex during menstruation, but a husband should follow his wife's lead. [10].

Oral Sex. The Bible is "completely silent" on the subject, but "we suggest it should be limited to foreplay" (276) and never be demanded of a partner who dislikes it. [5]

Orgasm. Simultaneous orgasm is likely to occur, even for couples with "excellent" love-making skills only sixty to seventy percent of the time, women will need manual manipulation of the clit to come, and there is nothing wrong with women who desire (and enjoy) sex and orgasm. [5]

Orgasmic Failure. See chapters 8-10.

Petting. "Petting is just a sophisticated term describing illicit foreplay by the unmarried and it is dangerous" (280)^^ [0]

Positions. "Any place that is mutually agreeable and does not betray your privacy is acceptable" (281). [10]

Privacy. Put a lock on your door, teach your children to respect parental privacy, and avoid having them see you naked. [8]

Romance. Even pastors on a tight budget should not feel guilty about planning and saving for an "overnight honeymoon" on occasion with their wife. "If your first objective is to seek the kingdom of God, there is nothing wrong with your third or fourth objective being a decent salary to live on" (282).^^^ [5]

September Sex. Couples can enjoy sexual intimacy throughout their lives. [10]

Sex Drive. It isn't wrong for a woman to have a higher sex drive than her male partner. [10]

Sex During Pregnancy. Is not contra-indicated. [10]

Stimulation. Vibrators are dangerous as they might "establishing an appetite for a level of stimulation their partner could not provide naturally" (287).  [0]

Television. Is a distraction and a "thief of love." [2]

Temperament. In which we suddenly learn about the sex drives of Sanguines, Cholerics and Melancholics. [??]

IN SUM: Adequate Lady-Spouse Metric

Chapter 14: 137/290 possible points = -153



Chapter 13: -190
Chapter 12: -29.5
Chapter 11: -35
Chapters 8-10: 0 (n/a)
Chapters 6-7: -62
Chapters 4-5: +30
Chapters 2-3: -33
Chapter 1: -50

Cumulative ALSM Score: -522.5

--> Basically? I'd totally suck at being a fundie Christian wife. It's a good thing that's not what Hanna's looking for!

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*An assumption I also share, since I take "adultery" to mean a situation where one person cheats on the rules of the primary relationship by having sex with a third (or more) parties without the consent of their spouse. NOT COOL.

**I didn't bother to look up how much the LaHayes could have known about hormonal issues related to hysterectomies, so they may or may not be responsible for the mis-information here. But aside from the physical recovery from abdominal surgery, and lingering scar tissue, hysterectomies alter your hormones and can alter one's ability to experience orgasm, and/or how you experience arousal.

***This may seem like a strange observation to place here in the Q&A, but there are still people today who argue that masturbation equals homosexuality because it's sexual intimacy with a body the same sex as your own er, exactly the same as your own, er, is your own.

^Like with abortion, it's note-worthy to me that the LaHayes are arguing for Christians to abide by a separate morality from non-Christians, rather than framing any sort of political agenda concerning divorce law. Rather than argue people shouldn't be allowed to divorce, they simply counsel Christians it's "not an option" to people of faith.

^^This might tie with "children fulfill the psychic design of your mind" as Best Phrase Of The Book.

^^^Leaving one with the question, of course, what should the second objective be?

'the act of marriage' live-blog: ch. 13 (time-out for evangelism)

See also: intro, ch 1, ch 2-3, ch 4-5, ch 6-7, ch 8-10, ch 11, ch 12.

Welcome back! Now for the chapter you've all been waiting for ... the obligatory time-out for evangelism! Some of you may have been assuming that since the entire thrust of The Act of Marriage narrative is that a) the readers of the book are overwhelmingly Christians and b) being Christian means you're gonna have awesome God-boosted sexytimes, that the text needs no explicit shout-out to repent and be saved. After all, you'd be preaching to the choir, and for anyone who doesn't already know the words to the hymn you've got the best sales pitch ever: BETTER ORGASMS.

Oh, but you would be so wrong. Because Christians can never be saved enough. This was a major theme of the fundamentalist evangelicalism I encountered during my thesis research: individuals who had repented and been "saved" face continual pressure to recommit to Christ out of fear that their born-again experience was somehow less-than (think Jesus Camp). Putting the fear of God into those already in the fold is part-and-parcel of any proselytizing among fundamentalist evangelicals. And given that Tim LaHaye is, first and foremost, a minister, means that this remains a key aspect of his modus operandi:

Unless [the] God-shaped vacuum [in every person] is filled by a personal relationship with God, man is condemned throughout his lifetime to an endless treadmill of activity in an attempt to fill it (219).

This chapter is full of infographics arguing that people without Christ in their lives will be full of guilt, fear, purposelessness, emptiness, confusion, and misery.* In contrast:

When Christ controls one's life, that person seeks to do those things and think those thoughts that please the Lord, who in turn will grant that person an abundance of the joy, love, and peace which guarantees the happiness every human being desires ... When [Christ] directs a person's nature, that person's clean thought patterns will produce good feelings and in turn turn engender the physical responses that everyone wants (230). 

As Hanna points out, this makes Jesus sound like the worst micro-managing boss ever. It also makes Jesus sound like a drug you might find in the stash of your buddy who sells pot out of his back garden.

Which, I suppose, if praying is what does it for you -- why not?**

There's a couple of things going on here I want to comment on, before we move onto the final, Q & A chapter next week (the final chapter! can you believe we've made it through the whole book?!).

I think it's really intriguing -- and particularly evident in this chapter, since this is the chapter that's basically selling Christ as an awesome trip -- that the LaHayes feel the need to sell Christianity as the path to the good life and that the "good life" doesn't just mean the absence of hellfire and brimstone (the afterlife is, actually, noteably absent throughout The Act). The argument to being/becoming Christian isn't "if you don't accept God you will BURN IN HELL," though I'm sure most of their target audience received that message loud and clear in other places. No, the message in The Act is be/become Christian and you will have "good feelings" and "the physical responses that everyone wants" (read: ORGASM).

Jesus: A Really Good Fuck. Maybe the brides of Christ were onto something?

No only will Jesus/God give you a really good time in bed, but he'll also give you and your partner together a super-awesome roll in the hay, which makes Jesus/God sound like something between a sex therapist and a congenial fuck buddy:

When Sara accepted Christ as her Lord and Savior in my office that day, she cancelled their divorce proceedings and went home to become a loving, submissive, gracious wife ... within ten weeks [her husband] Sam also came to the saving knowledge of Christ, and they have enjoyed a compatible relationship for many years (232).

This sells Christ not as "Lord and Savior" in the Biblical sense -- though obviously that is the ultimate end goal, saving souls -- but rather as a means to an end: a "compatible relationship" between husband and wife (and perhaps every-other-Thursday also the Son of God?). Such a pitch effectively twines together a prosperity gospel ethos with a reconfiguration of sexuality as something with positive spiritual possibility, even outside of the context of procreation. And both of these themes became absolutely central to late-twentieth-century American evangelical culture. Sexual conservatives, to this day, will argue (either in psuedo-scientific or blatantly theological terms) that Christians who remain chaste until marriage and lead a Christ-centered sexual life thereafter will experience the best most satisfying sex there is.

Maybe they do? Who am I to judge. But I've been disqualified from that particular club since age eleven, when I met my friend J's offer (made in the backyard tree house, if I remember aright)  to help me "accept Christ into your heart" with a blank stare, so.

And then there's the whole premarital lesbian (albeit monogamous) slut thing. I'm pretty sure I get demerits for that.

IN SUM: Adequate Lady-Spouse Metric

-50 --> not accepting Christ into my heart at age eleven (or at any age thereafter)
-50 --> believing the spiritual vacuum can be filled with other-than-Christ shaped religion
-20 --> engaging in premarital
-20 --> lesbian sexytimes
-20 --> and not regretting it
-30 --> and not turning to drugs and/or alcohol as a result

Chapter 13: -190 points

Chapter 12: -29.5
Chapter 11: -35
Chapters 8-10: 0 (n/a)
Chapters 6-7: -62
Chapters 4-5: +30
Chapters 2-3: -33
Chapter 1: -50

Cumulative ALSM Score: -369.5

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*Before you ask no, there is no data to back this up -- it's simply assumed to be self-evident FACT.

**Hanna also pointed out, because she's smart like that (I'm not really just marrying her for the lovely ass), that spiritual/religious/metaphysical life is an important part of meaning-making for most people -- even if it's important because you've consciously chosen not to prioritize it. I don't think the LaHayes are terribly mis-guided to encourage people to consider their spiritual centering ... I only think they're wrong to argue that only Jesus and/or the evangelical Christian god will suffice.

'the act of marriage': ch 12 ( d) none of the above)

See also: intro, ch 1, ch 2-3, ch 4-5, ch 6-7, ch 8-10, ch 11.


Finally! The chapter you've all been waiting for (I know!): the Christian sex survey. Convinced through anecdotal evidence and a belief that believers must do it better, the LaHayes set out to gather empirical data to support their thesis.

Why do Christians do it better? I mean, we all know why feminists do it better: the less hamstrung by notions of oppositional, binary gender roles, the more real people can be. And the more real we can be with our partners -- the less compelled we feel to follow a specific script for sex -- the better off we're gonna be. Less shame, more gain. But why would being a member of one religious community -- particularly one which, historically-speaking, has a rocky relationship with human sexuality -- lead one to better sex?

Well, the short answer is because folks like the LaHayes believe that being a Christian makes everything better. It's sort of an exercise in circular thinking: Why does Christianity make things better? Because life is better when you're a Christian.

The slightly longer answer is that they believe that they believe "a Christian's relationship with God produces a greater capacity for expressing and receiving love than is possible for the non-Christian" (195). They argue that Christians, with their greater capacity for love, do not have "an obsession with sex, they do not need dirty stories*, pornography, or artificial stimuli to motivate them toward each other" (195). Basically: God gives you the capacity to love; everyone else is faking it.

To assess the state of Christian marital relations, the LaHayes asked participants in their Family Life Seminars (sexuality education for Christian adults) to fill out and return written surveys on their sexual experiences -- think The Hite Report for Christian couples. They amassed 3, 377 responses (from 1,705 women and 1,672 men) and chapter twelve offers us a look at the results. In comparing their own results to that of a contemporary Redbook survey of 100,000 women they conclude that "Christians do enjoy the sublimities of the act of marriage more than others in our culture" (197).

I can't reproduce the survey results in full, here, but a quick word about demographics and then some of the questions and responses. The couples they surveyed (and yes, they were all married) were the average age of mid-to-late thirties, had been married 7-15 years, and had 2-3 children. forty percent of the women and sixty percent of the men were graduates of four-year colleges, and nearly forty percent of the men had attended graduate school (I suspect a high proportion of seminarians). Forty percent of the wives worked part- or full-time outside the home and over sixty percent of the men were working in "professional or managerial" positions. In short, these are middle to upper-middle-class families. The survey doesn't ask about race, but I'd say it's safe to assume a majority white demographic.

The majority of couples married after a courtship lasting 6-12 months, but fifteen percent courted for 3-5 years before marriage. Reading was the main source of sexuality education before marriage, and while the majority approached marriage with "anticipation" of sexual activity, roughly twenty percent of both men and women were "apprehensive" about sex as they headed toward tying the knot. About a third of respondents (slightly lower for women, slightly higher for men) had engaged in "occasional" premarital intercourse, though the LaHayes are quick to point out that these numbers could include people who had "not yet received Christ as their Lord and Savior" (200). Almost forty percent of couples used birth control pills as their preferred form of contraception. While only about one quarter of wives reported having reached orgasm on their first night of lovemaking, seventy-seven percent indicated that they "regularly or always" experienced orgasm making love at the time they filled out the survey.

A few example questions, and the responses:

14. Impression of parents' sex life:

Fulfilling... 36% (wives' response) 36% (husbands' response)
Casual... 28% / 34%
Cold... 28% / 20%
Other... 8% / 10%

36. Minutes from beginning of foreplay to orgasm:

Less than 10... 6% / 7%
10-20 minutes ... 51% / 55%
20-30 minutes ... 31% / 26%
30 or more ... 12% / 12%

40. How often do you have intercourse per week:

0-2 times ... 61% / 61%
3-6 times ... 36% / 37%
7-9 times ... 3% / 1%

41. How often do you desire intercourse per week:

0-2 times ... 48% / 27 %
3-6 times ... 49% / 62%
7-9 times ... 3% / 11%

The rest of the chapter is taken up by graphs comparing the sexual satisfaction of Christian couples (as reported in the survey) with the sexual satisfaction of the respondents to the Redbook survey. The LaHayes do point out that there is no way of knowing what percentage of those who responded to Redbook were also Christians**, but persist anyway in arguing that Christians do it better.

Wearing my historian's hat, I find it particularly fascinating to see certain themes emerging in these chapters which today sit front and center in the Christian arguments against non-marital sexual activities. For example, the argument that non-marital sex before marriage will be destructive to the marriage relationship: "Our survey indicates quite clearly that premarital sex is not necessary and, according to statistics, may hinder sexual adjustment" (210). They also devote a section to the notion that the practice of oral sex is on the rise, "thanks to amoral sexual education, pornography, modern sex literature, and the moral breakdown of our times" (212). While the LaHayes are not particularly censorious of oral stimulation, they take pains to encourage their readers to ensure that penis-in-vagina intercourse remains the central sexual act in their relationship. All things considered, you could set this chapter up alongside the data presented in the reactionary Premarital Sex in America and -- substituting anal for oral -- you'd have roughly the same arguments being made, fifty years apart.

IN SUM: Adequate Lady-Spouse Metric

It was a little difficult to come up with a way of grading myself on this chapter. So what I did was this: I completed the questionnaire myself, and then gave myself two points for every instance where my answers matched the top answer for the wives, one point if it was the second-place answer, and half a point for third-place or below.

Chapter 12:
1st place answers: 24 questions = 48/48 points
2nd place answers: 11 questions = 11/22 points
3rd or below: 11 questions = 5.5/22 points

TOTAL POINTS: 64.5/94 points = -29.5

Chapter 11: -35
Chapters 8-10: 0 (n/a)
Chapters 6-7: -62
Chapters 4-5: +30
Chapters 2-3: -33
Chapter 1: -50

Cumulative ALSM Score: -179.5

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*So sad! No smutty fic!

**Note that "Christian" to folks like the LaHayes doesn't mean "anyone who attends a Christian church and/or reads the Bible as a sacred text," but rather anyone who has had a born-again experience and/or accepted Jesus as their Lord and Savior.

'the act of marriage': ch. 11 (aka "children fulfill the psychic design of your mind")

See also: intro, ch 1, ch 2-3, ch 4-5, ch 6-7, ch 8-10.

If I had to pick the number-one aspect of The Act of Marriage that situated it in the 1970s, it would be the LaHaye's attitude toward birth control and abortion. Namely, that they're not categorically opposed to either. Let me reiterate: The best-selling protestant Christian evangelical sex manual of the 1970s was not anti-abortion or anti-birth control, even hormonal birth control (aka "The Pill") which today has so many fundies up in arms.

Tomorrow, I'm going to be posting, verbatim, the passage in which The Act of Marriage takes up the question of abortion. I think it deserves its own post because there's so much interesting stuff going on vis a vis contemporary abortion politics within it. But for now, we're going to take a brief look at chapter eleven, "Sane Family Planning," which deals exclusively with pre-conception solutions for controlling pregnancy while sexually active.

"Almost all Christians today seem to believe in limiting the size of their families" (185)

The LaHayes start out with the observation that, given the number of years the average woman is fertile, the vast majority of Christian couples are self-evidently practicing some sort of family planning strategy. And they do not disapprove -- nor do they believe God disapproves. The distinction they make is not between contraception vs. no contraception, but rather between parenting and not-parenting. "Christian couples should, if at all possible, have children, they assert" (183). Intention here matters. If one is delaying childbearing, or spacing out children, or deciding that [ideal number] of children is the limit of persons your family resources can provide for, then this is an acceptable ("sane"?) orientation toward parenting.

What's not acceptable? Deciding that your ideal number of children = 0.* Because "the chief enemy of personal happiness is self-interest" (185) I've honestly never understood how realizing you don't have the resources (material, emotional, or otherwise) to be a good-enough parent is the selfish route while having little ones because they are "a tangible expression of your [marital love]" or because "children fulfill the psychic design of your mind" (I shit you not!) is the unselfish way to go (183-85). But apparently that's the truth of things, and who am I to argue with God?**

I lose MAJOR lady-spouse points for this (I figure double 'cause I'm getting hitched to someone who's completely comfortable with the non-parenting state of affairs. More so than I am, actually. So, you know, clearly I went the way of satanic and self-centered temptation there.

What can I say. She has a really great ass.

IN SUM: Adequate Lady-Spouse Metric Returns!

-20 --> for coming to the conclusion that the answer to the question "how many children does God want me to have?" is "Zero" and
-20 --> for getting myself hitched to a partner who believes this even more strongly than I
-20 --> plus the whole "two eggs can't make a baby" thing, which is surely a strike against us
+15 --> still, I do agree that human being are a pretty awesome "gift of eternal creativity"
+10 --> and that even couples wanting to create babies should have access to family planning tools

Chapter 11: -35

Chapters 8-10: 0 (n/a)
Chapters 6-7: -62
Chapters 4-5: +30
Chapters 2-3: -33
Chapter 1: -50

Cumulative ALSM Score: -150

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* Maths people! What would the equation for that look like ... "solve for X if  x > 1"?

**See also.