What About the Menz: A Brief Book Preview

I finished the first draft of my book two weeks ago. At 53,000 words, 102 US letter pages of single-spaced, size 12 Times New Roman font, it is the longest and largest thing I have ever written. I'm entering the editing stage, and thought it might not be a bad idea to start sharing some snippets for discussion. These snippets may or may not end up in the final book (that's the editing process for you!), but I thought they might do to stir some discussion and hopefully whet your appetite for the book itself.

The section I'm sharing today is from a late-added chapter about the experience of men in purity culture. One thing I've been realizing a lot lately is how purity culture infantilizes men - it treats them as insatiable sexual beasts, unable to control themselves. This view is pretty darn offensive when you give even two seconds thought of it - do we not have more faith in men? In light of Senator Chambliss' comments during the hearing about sexual assault in the military, it appears that this low view of men is alive and well.

One thing, too, I have noticed is the marriage of masculinity with a violent heterosexuality. The image of men as defenders and protectors of damsels in distress not only paints women as weak and unable to stand up for themselves, but also forces men toward violence. With that in mind, I want to share this section from the book. Keep in mind that it's rough!

Violence being a primary showpiece for masculinity creates a violence-oriented world. In America, boys are given toy guns and taught to play cops and robbers. Entertainment plays at violent masculinity and sexualized womanhood. And evangelical churches paint men as knights rescuing damsels in distresses - men as the violent active and women as the passive receiver of their violent action.

Perhaps one of the more disturbing things about this trend of violent masculinity is the mapping of these “virtues” onto the person of Christ Himself. Mark Driscoll has explained that the Jesus he worships is not some “neutered, limp-wristed popular Sky fairy,” or “Richard Simmons, hippie, queer Christ.” Instead, Driscoll says, he worships “a pride fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand, and the commitment to make someone bleed.”

Disturbing as that image is, it is a part of the evangelical attempt to save Christian masculinity from the feminization of the American church. Slow worship music, good lighting, talking about feelings - all these things are seen as feminine, and as the reason for men leaving the church. Therefore, the way to win men back is to marry Christ - the Christ who stayed Peter’s sword in the garden and who submitted himself to the utmost violence - with a violent, protective masculinity. The sacrificial Christ becomes a Clint Eastwood-type man who shoots first and asks questions later.

Having feelings, crying, expressing emotion in anything but anger or firmness? These are no-no’s in a violently strict masculine culture. Men are “wolves,” as Mark Driscoll paints them, in their most basic state. They are uncontrolled libido, violent tendencies, and unfeeling robots. Rather than challenge these ideas about what men are and what men can be, the new movement toward Christian masculinity demands that these “natural tendencies” are merely channeled into a worship of God. A violent man now becomes a protector. A man with an insatiable libido is merely a man and his wife must serve him. The man who cries during worship or who cries during times that are deemed “unmanly” is not holding up his end of the emotional bargain.

This type of masculinity defines manhood in terms of what it is not - women are tender; therefore men are firm and violent. Women are weepy; therefore men cannot be. Women are servants in the bedroom; therefore men are the colonial masters. In response to a feminist world in which all genders are equal, evangelical men have been taking back their power by taking back masculinity, and making it about whatever an arbitrary womanhood is not.

People as Moral Agents

On Christmas Eve, my friend Preston tweeted an article at me, with an accompanying joke about how some blogs seem to try to sneak their controversial-yet-terrible articles in on December 24^th. This piece was no exception – it’s a terrible amalgamation of every bad argument against feminism. It’s so bad that I half-asked myself, “Is this a parody?” Nope, it’s not. And in that regard, I think it’s worth examining the arguments as they represent a lot of what people say about feminism and about humanity.

The article appears on Thought Catalog, an online magazine of sorts aimed at white, 20 something hipsters, and is titled “Why We Don’t Need Feminism.”

You see why Preston sent it to me.

The piece is shallow, jumping from one argument to the next, as though the whole of a multi-century movement  can be brought to its knees by 2,000 words of survey-class-level arguments on the internet (spoiler alert: it can’t, and it devolves into transphobic reductionism on its way down).

In the first point, the author – Emily Matters – starts out by talking about male apes who violently rape as part of their chimp tribes. No, seriously. That’s her argument – that apes show us that violence, aggression, and yes, rape, are hardwired into male humans because TESTOSTERONE and that fighting it with feminism is useless because misogyny isn’t the whole cause.

You balk, but this is an actual argument people make.

If you’re a cis-man reading this, you should be insulted by Ms. Matters’ argument – she is literally comparing you to an ape. What a low, base view of men* – that they can’t help but rape, that they are slaves to their testosterone and “natural” aggression, that violence is an inherent part of the masculine being, rather than an aberration. Not to mention that this is a rather horrific view of what makes someone a man or a woman – as though gender is biological sex, which it is not, and once again defines masculinity in violent terms.

But even if violence is “natural” in apes, it does not begin to excuse it in humans, because – again – that basically says that human people don’t have brains with which to make decisions, that they are unable to reason things out and become moral agents in their own lives.

Matters’ argument is based in an incredibly low and narrow view of masculine identity. She glosses this over by talking about male on male violence, and how this is evidence that cis-men are just inherently violent. But rather than say that this is a masculinity problem that emerges from a desire to prove that a man is defined by that which is not womanly, she chalks it up to biology and a shrug.

We need feminism because people are moral agents with a conscience, not slaves to questionable biological instincts.

Matters’ second point is a confusing mess that is a prime example of how not to read statistics and studies. She cites the wage gap, and says that it’s not discrimination that cis-women are paid lower than cis-men because they choose fields that are naturally low-paying, as though it’s simply coincidence that fields historically dominated by cis-women – like education or nursing – are also some of the lowest paid career choices. She also ignores that the studies on the wage gap account for career choices, benefits, children, education and other factors. Even with all those things accounted for, for cis white men and cis white women working in the same job with the same skill level and education, the men are still paid more than women. There is a gap that is not explained by anything but systematic discrimination.

And it’s important to note that this applies to cis white men and women. Once you factor in race, the gap increases even more. White women don’t make a lot compared to the white man’s dollar, but they’re still more likely to make more than a cis black man, and it’s almost assured that a white woman will make more than a cis black woman for the same work. And all of them likely make more than trans* people.

Socialization seems to mean nothing here – on the one hand, cis-men are driven by their “natural” aggression to commit terrible violent acts, and on the other hand, this “testosterone driven” aggression is a good thing because it makes them good at business and innovation. Social conditioning isn’t even acknowledged – the idea that workplaces are socialized to reward male aggression and punish female acts of the same isn’t even in the thought catalog here.

It is here that Matters says something utterly baffling: “The answer here isn’t that we need more feminism or coddling, it’s that women must learn to embrace more conventionally male traits of assertiveness and dominance (and to try to produce more testosterone?) if they really care about making more money.”

I’m so confused. Feminism is coddling? Not the gender roles that call women weaker vessels and tells them not to worry their pretty little heads about things like finances?

We need feminism because people are individuals and need to be embraced and viewed on the merits of their individual characteristics, not on their conformity to some larger ideas of aggression and submission or masculinity and femininity – however the larger culture defines it.

I am a feminist because I believe people are better moral agents than apes, because I believe we, as a society, can rise above deterministic, transphobic, crap that passes for social argument. I believe that people are people and men and women can both be better than the “roles” society hands us.

_____________

*It should be noted, too, that this kind of biological reductionism is quite transphobic – people who identify as men are men regardless of the level of testosterone in their body and women who identify as women are women regardless of the level of testosterone in their body.

The Church is Not a Fight Club

“If only a male janitor had been there to swing a bucket at his knees…” The National Review’s Charlotte Allen erased the heroism of several women in a short, few paragraph opinion piece, suggesting that somehow a male-identified person would have “known what to do.”

Another article, this one from a columnist at Newsweek, suggested that “a husky 12 year old” or a “football player,” or maybe even 8-10 “bodies” could have rushed the shooter. Nevermind the two adult women who did rush the shooter, and paid for it with their lives.

Erase, revise, edit, cut.

The bravery and heroism of women are all but ignored in attempts to keep ourselves from examining a toxic culture of masculinity which breeds wars and pride and anger and hate.

(To be clear: when I refer to a toxic culture of masculinity, I am referring to the Mark Driscoll’s, the Wild at Heart’s, the Doug Giles’, the John Piper’s, even the Donald Miller’s, for whom masculinity and treating people like men means not being kind and decent but instead violent and forceful. I refer not to the idea that men have a tendency to be different from women in how they behave and function, but to poisonous, irrevocably damaging conflation of “masculinity” with violence and guys and power over others.)

Masculinity as defined by violence is toxic.

It eats away at brother and sister, at father and mother, at friends and lovers. The idea that to be a man one must be willing to punch and fight and bleed (usually in "defense" of a weaker-vesseled-woman) pervades our culture. Fight Club is a popular movie not for the anti-consumerist message but for the presentation of masculinity as an untamed savagery - never mind that the main character, in the end, shoots himself to rid his life of the plague of this horrific violence.

We have pastors holding Mixed Martial Arts fights in church sanctuaries, claiming that this is true masculinity.

Religious writers proclaim that violence, fighting, and war – or, at least, the desire to participate in these actions – are inherent, natural desires of man, rather than the evidence of brokenness and sin and things that should grieve us.

Movies give us “badasses” who fight and fuck and are “manly” because they do.

Television shows praise as heroic the nostalgic image of fedora wearing, chain-smoking, alcoholic, philanderers with little self-control.

Since 1982, there have been 62 mass shootings  in the United States. 25 of those were in the last five years. Of those 62 shootings, 61 were done by men. 44 of those were white men.

We have a masculinity problem in America.

Yes, the causes behind these killings are multifaceted, complex, and impossible to pin down on one thing. I’m not saying that the conflation of masculinity and violence is the only cause, or even a main cause. But it is a discussion worth having – an important discussion, as we see more and more pastors preaching that “taking control” “asserting power,” and delighting in violence are part of what it means to be a man.

As a church, we are supposed to be a people of peace. When we preach that violence and power and control are an inherent part of our gospel, and an inherent part of the identity of men – as people like Mark Driscoll do – we cause great harm to the body of Christ.

I don’t have a succinct or neat answer or solution. Men of peace, it is your place to challenge this. It is your duty to push back against this toxic image of masculinity not only in secular society, but in the pulpits of our churches. Being a man is not about getting your own, nor about how many guns you own, nor about who you beat down in your race to the top. It’s not even about vicarious joy in violence – violence should grieve us, as it did Jesus in the Garden the night before his death.

This is a solution that is going to take all of us, and silence gets us nowhere fast. Now is the time to speak up, to be, talk, and do nonviolence, to challenge the assumption that what makes a man is how much he can make another person bleed. Man is not defined by how many people he hurts, but by how he heals.

Modesty and Hating Oneself: The Darker Side

“But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” – Matthew 5;28 (NRSV) “I hate myself every time I look at a woman's ass, which is hard not to do sometimes.” – A commenter on this post.

It’s that time of year again – time to discuss the idea of modesty, responsibility, and lust. A fellow writer, Emily Maynard (no, not that Emily Maynard), wrote an article that appeared on ChurchLeaders.com discussing the concept of modesty and lust. She talks eloquently about how lust is different from sexual attraction, and how reducing lust to being exclusively sexual in nature removes it from the idea that lust is about control, not attraction.

It’s a good article; you should go read it. But, I’d advise you not to read the comments.

The above quote was left on another article about the controversy raised by Maynard’s article. The line stuck out to me because it struck me as “the other side of the coin,” so to speak, of the modesty issues.

Heteronormative modesty codes not only objectify women by making them responsible for the thought life of every man they encounter, but make men feel weak, guilty, and vulnerable for experiencing basic sexual attraction.*

And this, too, is a major problem. Modesty codes not only negatively affect women by informing them that their bodies are public objects to be commented upon and used at will, but they also create an attitude within men that is twofold. First, they abdicate responsibility for a problem with lust to that which exists outside themselves , perpetuating an immature “blame others” attitude. Second, the lack of definition around lust makes men hate themselves when they cannot control a perfectly normal reaction.

This second is the problem I’d like to focus on here. We’ve so perverted the definition of lust – narrowing it and broadening it at the same time - that we have created a paradigm under which no human being could function and come out as healthy. We’ve narrowed lust to be solely about sexual issues, ignoring that one can lust after a person’s car, a person’s position, or marriage. Lust is not about sexuality, but about power and control, as Maynard so eloquently points out.

And we’ve broadened it so that any sexual thought, any sexual inclination is “lust” and therefore sinful and to be avoided. As Libby Anne points out over on Love, Joy, Feminism, this sort of thinking creates an atmosphere of repression and inability to understand sexual attraction within a relationship, as good little Christians are told to flee from it in order to remain pure. Many, as Libby Anne points out, end up fleeing from anyone they are sexually attracted to, figuring that this is the best way to avoid the temptation prior to marriage.**

Modesty codes – and the wrong thinking about lust that surrounds them – is harmful to both men and women (and that doesn’t even touch on the erasure of people who do not identify within a gender binary or heterosexuality). When we demonize biological functions, we set people up for failure. Instead of creating a world in which lust is understood as wanting to control another human being and that basic sexual attraction is healthy for romantic relationships*, we create a world in which people are mentally separated from their own bodies, and each interaction is fraught with the possibility that one’s spiritual walk could be derailed by the sight of cleavage.

I cannot repeat this enough: modesty codes set people up for failure. In the heteronormative, anti-woman way that they are taught, women are taught that being modest and asexual is the best they can be, while men are taught that they are unable to control themselves and are blameless for this inability, while also taught that they should hate themselves for it.

We, as a church, need to change the conversation. We need to first teach men that blaming women for boners is not a healthy way to go through life, and that sexual attraction and not feeling sexual attraction are natural and acceptable identities. We need to broaden the conversation to talk about control and objectification rather than how one person is sinful for having a perfectly normal sexual reaction to attractiveness. We need to talk about how this thinking fuels a culture of rape.

We need a better conversation because men should not be hating themselves every time a woman walks by.

___________

*Note: not all people experience sexual attraction, which is also damaging as those who don’t feel like they’re fighting lust all the time are made to feel like they are abnormal, when asexuality is a perfectly valid identity.

**This is not to say that love does not exist in these relationships or that these relationships should not happen, but that these relationships are missing a crucial element of compatibility, undiscovered until it is far too late to leave.

A Driscollian Hermeneutic: "Sweeney Erect"

In an offhand conversation with my agent earlier, we were remarking on this post from Mark Driscoll. You don’t have to read the whole 4300 words, but it’s worth having a look at part 3 and Driscoll’s literal reading of Ezekiel’s preaching to dry bones. Apparently, it means that zombies are real.

I’m not going to bore you with a reason as to why Driscoll is wrong here (because, come on, Zombies? In the Bible?), but I will note that metaphor and simile seem lost on the man. I mean, we knew as much when he interpreted Song of Songs to be about wives giving their husbands blowjobs. But I guess I never realized the depth (or is it shallowness?) of his literalism. And when he sees metaphor, he seems to always see the one that couldn’t be more wrong.

As Hannah and I were discussing this post and this idea, a thought occurred to me: if Driscoll is this bad at interpreting ancient Scripture that he reads zombies and blowjobs into prophetic works, what, then, would he do with poets actually influenced by Freud, religion, sex, and Enlightenment philosophy?

And thus, “Mark Driscoll Reads the Classics” was born.

Poetry’s never been my strong suit, but I’ve a feeling that it isn’t Driscoll’s either. So in the interest of parodying both the stuffy literary criticism (which I actually love, considering I have a degree in English Literature) and Driscoll’s literalism, this (maybe series?) is born out of a desire to see what happens when you misapply and misinterpret things through the way Driscoll sees the world. This is what happens when you approached the text with a desire to make it say what you want it to say, rather than letting the text speak for itself (and doing research to see what others have said).

So here it is: a Driscollian reading of "Sweeney Erect" by T.S. Eliot, a poem that actually is about sex and Calvinism. "Driscoll's" comments are in italics.

And the trees about me, Let them be dry and leafless; let the rocks Groan with continual surges; and behind me Make all a desolation. Look, look, wenches!

Okay, it sounds like we’re in an apocalyptic waste land here: desolation. And of course, the only thing left after an apocalypse will be the bad women – those wenches! So there’s our setting.

Paint me a cavernous waste shore Cast in the unstilled Cyclades, Paint me the bold anfractuous rocks Faced by the snarled and yelping seas.

I looked up “Cyclades,” and according to my trusty copy of Wikipedia, it’s a group of islands in Greece. So obviously, this is a reference to the Greek New Testament and the “old” philosophy falling apart because it is apart from God. And it’s Greek.

Display me Aeolus above Reviewing the insurgent gales Which tangle Ariadne’s hair And swell with haste the perjured sails.

At first I thought Aeolus meant “areola,” and thought we were diving into sex a bit soon (I mean, the poem IS called “Sweeney ERECT”) but apparently it refers to the ancient Greek God of the winds. So clearly, this is a reference to the ancient philosophies of Greece being “full of wind.” I mean, Socrates was kind of a windbag apart from God, am I right?

And Ariadne? Wasn’t she that girl in Inception? Oh, Wikipedia says she’s associated with mazes and labyrinths. Well, obviously! She’s a woman!

Morning stirs the feet and hands (Nausicaa and Polypheme). Gesture of orang-outang Rises from the sheets in steam.

Alrighty! Sheets and steam! Obviously, sex. Totally. So Nausicaa and Polypheme are getting down! Nausicaa is an evil woman from the Odyssey, and Polypheme is a Cyclops, a one-eyed monster? Obviously a metaphor for penis. This poem is about sluts! It's warning us about getting involved with sluts. Sluts will bring on the apocalypse, and we're seeing the beginnings of it in our culture already.

This withered root of knots of hair Slitted below and gashed with eyes, This oval O cropped out with teeth: The sickle motion from the thighs

Wow, this TS Eliot was a sick bastard. This is obviously unholy sex in an apocalyptic waste land – it’s like our modern culture! Teenage girls running around with their Polyphemes, getting pregnant and chasing vampire demons. Clearly, Eliot’s talking about demonic images and orgies that will happen in the end times.

Jackknifes upward at the knees Then straightens out from heel to hip Pushing the framework of the bed And clawing at the pillow slip.

Whoa now. Mr. Eliot, I don’t like your pornography, sir.

Sweeney addressed full length to shave Broadbottomed, pink from nape to base, Knows the female temperament And wipes the suds around his face.

Okay, this is just silly. No metrosexual, chickified shaving of … parts … on my watch.

(The lengthened shadow of a man Is history, said Emerson Who had not seen the silhouette Of Sweeney straddled in the sun.)

Emerson is obvious a reference here to another poet. But I don’t like this idea of Sweeney – a man – straddled. Clearly, in this apocalyptic wasteland, women take control even in the bedroom, and this does not bode well for the males of the species. This is what we’re headed for, men! Do you want to be dominated like this, men?

Tests the razor on his leg Waiting until the shriek subsides. The epileptic on the bed Curves backward, clutching at her sides.

These “shrieks” are obviously, inhuman, demonic shrieks, because everyone knows that women only shriek in porn or if they’re feminist harpies. Epileptic here is a reference to a disease, a disorder – in this apocalyptic world, Eliot imagines a world turned upside down. Women leading outside the God-ordained order, turning men into women (Sweeney is shaving his legs!), and seeking after only their pleasure!

The ladies of the corridor Find themselves involved, disgraced, Call witness to their principles And deprecate the lack of taste

And even in the midst of this women-power fantasy, the women are unhappy! See! Go outside the ordained order, and God will make you unhappy.

Observing that hysteria Might easily be misunderstood; Mrs. Turner intimates It does the house no sort of good.

I think I like this Mrs. Turner – she knows what’s up. She knows women going out of line is bad for them. It does the house – obviously, “the body” – no good!

But Doris, towelled from the bath, Enters padding on broad feet, Bringing sal volatile And a glass of brandy neat.

But no one cares – Doris wanders about naked, tempting men, bringing on the apocalypse.

__________________

Notes:

1. This is a parody of how I imagine a caricature of Driscoll would read a poem. It is meant as parody, and is therefore protected speech. Shut up, Mars Hill lawyers.

2. A note of apology to my former professors who taught me in literature and exegesis classes: I am so sorry. This is intentionally bad literary criticism and it pains me to write it. You did not do a bad job with me, I promise!

3. Graphic designed by the amazing Jason Boyett. Y’all should get to know him. He’s awesome.

In Which I Contemplate Unicorns

Josh Weed is screwing with my narratives. Let me back up. The blogosphere this week has been discussing this piece from Mormon writer and humorist, Josh Weed. He came out this week as gay. And married to a woman. With children. And happy about it.

When I saw the article, I tweeted it with the comment, “I truly don’t know what to do with this.”

And that was the truest expression of my sentiment in that moment. I truly didn’t know. I'm still wrestling with it. This story messes with my narratives about faith and homosexuality and marriage and sex.

There’s no box I can put Josh in because he doesn’t fit into my predetermined narratives. The labels and narratives people live within must be the ones they choose for themselves and we have to allow room for them to shake them up. So when I can’t put Josh and his family into a box, that’s probably a good thing.

But…

I also worry, almost uncontrollably.

I worry about the influence that Mormon theology – theology which states, in its essential doctrine, that a woman cannot be “saved” if she is not married – had on this couple and whether this was a choice made to kowtow to a sexist theological standard.

I worry that this is a soft-sell for ex-gay ministries – Weed is a marriage/family therapist who specializes in “unwanted same sex attraction,” which is common parlance in ex-gay circles.

Most of all, I worry about what this will do to the conversation surrounding marriage equality and LGBT rights, because, sometimes, I’m very cynical.

I’ve had conversation after conversation with people who don’t understand what living as an LGBT person is like for most of the LGBT identified people in the US. I myself don’t fully understand it, but as a straight ally, I try to listen. And, when I discuss it, I try to get across that being LGBT is not a choice, that, no, they can’t change and most don’t want to, and that we need to be supportive of them in their life choices. I also feel that we should allow them the space for a love life because “love the sinner hate the sin” is nonsense.

So when Josh’s story came out, I sighed. I worried about the inevitable discussions that would bring this up – this Mormon guy lives like a straight person! They don’t need marriage equality – they just need to find the right opposite sex partner, and commit to them! Sex isn’t THAT big of a deal! I worried that it would strengthen the argument for those who believe that gay people just need to make the choice not to be gay and can marry a person of the opposite sex without consequence.

In some ways, I wanted to say to Josh, “Don’t tell your story. It makes things more complicated for me.”

I wanted to cynically push aside his story, label it as a masked campaign for ex-gay ministries. I wanted to ignore him, his wife, and their three daughters. I wanted to tell them that they make things unnecessarily complicated for my side of the aisle, that he just made it so much more complicated for people like himself to move beyond the heteronormative “this is what a family looks like” ideal that has been part and parcel of Americana for so long. At my most cynical, I wanted him to shut up.

But he cannot untell his own life story. The truth of it is, he believes himself to be happy in a life in which he is living as a gay man married to a straight woman, and I must take him at his word. People like him exist. He exists.

That, ultimately, is what made me say that I don’t know how to respond. If Josh is happy, then he is happy. What we should take away from the story is not “being ‘ex-gay’ is possible!” but that this decision worked for his life at this time. There is no one right way to be LGBT, just as there is no one right way to be a woman or a man or a person of color. Just as it would be wrong for someone to take Josh’s story and use it to promote the idea that gay people can and should be in straight relationships, it is wrong for me to say to Josh, “You cannot possible be happy with that.”

This was hammered home for me just last night when Rachel Held Evans posted another link to yet another statement from yet another male pastor, telling me what it means to be a woman:

So that as you walk in on Sunday morning and strong singing, led primarily by men, and then a voice from God is heard, and women are loving this, they're radiant, they're intelligent, they're understanding, they're processing, they're interacting. ...when you look at a woman who is dominantly and prominently feminine, she will have a backbone, she will be articulate, she will be thoughtful (things we tend to think are male).

Here was yet another man telling me what it means to be a woman. Another man slapping a label on me and saying that I must only exercise my natural talents and gifts within a protected male space. Here is another man telling me what my label is and how I must see myself.

I broke down. I started crying right there in my living room.

Trusting that the decisions other people make for their lives are what they need to do is an important step in developing empathy. We can offer advice, ask questions, and push back on those decisions – if we have a standing relationship with them that allows us to do so (and an understanding that they are allowed to reject our advice at any time, just as you are allowed to reject mine).

But we cannot define other people's stories for them. We cannot make broad sweeping declarations of "this is what gay looks like," or "this is what 'woman' or 'man' looks like."

Narratives, labels and boxes can be important and useful at times, but we must alter them to accommodate real live people, rather than altering the people to fit our narratives.

Of Gods and Godheads

In discussing Mutuality and Patriarchy over on Rachel Held Evans’ blog, I’ve been doing a lot of close reading and thinking this week about patriarchal structures. The Gospel Coalition and Dennis Burk were glad to help me out this week, each with an article that came straight out and stated: Yes, complementarianism  is patriarchy. And both of those arguments went a step further to claim something I’d never heard in this debate before: that the patriarchy is modeled on the Trinitarian structure of the Godhead himself. The Gospel Coalition, in the midst of their poorly structured and ultimately straw-manning piece “Debatable: Is Complementarianism Another Word for Patriarchy?”, had this fascinating sentence that should draw the eye of anyone who has spent time studying the Trinity – which frankly should be every member of the Church. It reads:

Evans claims that complementarianism is patriarchy, and here she stumbles upon the truth. She doesn't appear to recognize, however, that the patriarchy of marriage models the patriarchy of the Godhead. In contrast, the "functional egalitarianism" that Evans prefers models our culture's obsession with autonomy and disdain for authority. It is an ideology particularly suited to fulfill the masculine desire---first exhibited by Adam---to shirk our responsibility as servant-leaders and transfer our God-mandated role to our wives. (emphasis mine)

It’s a simple claim that's easy to glance over, but it contains a big wallop. I know that they meant to imply that Evans wants to upset the structure of the church and the Godhead – therefore committing heresy on her part – but the assumptions upon which this claim functions are, in themselves, heretical.

I’m confident in the intelligence of my readers, so don’t be scared: I’m going to get a little academic on your asses right now.

First, in order to understand what GC is telling us, we have to decide one of two things about this sentence – are they referring, when they say “the patriarchy of the Godhead,” to the idea that God – in the form of the Trinity – rules over all creation? Or are they saying that the Trinity/Godhead itself contains a patriarchal structure?

If it is the first, why, then, do we need the gendered language of “patriarchy”? Wouldn’t “hierarchy” be a more apt term, especially as the Godhead is three persons, two of which are not gendered, functioning equally?

And in the second, what does that imply about the supposedly egalitarian functions of the three person that compose the Trinity of the Godhead?

Let me back up a tidge and discuss a little of Trinitarian theology. You’ll find more information on my understanding of Trinitarian theology in the first chapter of my thesis, which can be found in PDF form here. For space, though, I’ll have to give you a very brief overview.

The Trinity is composed of three persons – The Holy Spirit, God “the Father,” and Jesus the Son.*

God the Father is the first member of the Trinity (though not created – do not make that mistake).

John 1 tells us that “In the beginning was God, and the Word was God, and the Word was with God.” This Word – Logos – is Jesus, a second member of the Trinity. Though Jesus did not appear on earth as a corporeal being until years after creation, John 1 tells us that he is always with God and always a part of the Godhead.

And the last member of the Trinity is the Holy Spirit, which makes its appearance amongst the believers at Pentecost, but appears throughout the Old Testament as well.

So now we have the Trinity. It’s a mystery, and it’s hard to grasp, so forgive me if I elide or skip over some of the messier parts. But what is generally accepted in orthodox theology is this (as found in the Nicene Creed of 381):

1. The Trinity consists of God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
2. The members of the Trinity are coequal and of the same substance though they are also three distinct persons.
3. The Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father, but is not made by him. This same goes for the Son. This procession does not imply hierarchy or even created order (the member of the Trinity did not create one another).
4. Each of these members function in coequal community, sharing one will and one purpose.

So where does this leave us with the complementarian argument that patriarchal male leadership – in marriages and in pulpits – stems from the Trinity?

Well, it certainly pulls us away from orthodoxy. Let’s circle back around to those initial questions about the GC’s statement, eh?

First, does this claim mean that marriage is formed after the relationship between the Trinity and the human church (or humanity in general)?

Fundamentally: No. In order to argue that specifically patriarchal structure on earth is modeled after God’s specifically patriarchal relationship to man, one would have to argue that the Godhead, in of itself, is male. This is a hard argument to make from Scripture because it would require maleness to be an element intrinsic to the Godhead, which is simply not a winnable argument. God the Father is referred to in both masculine and feminine terms. The Holy Spirit is referred to in almost completely feminine ways. Jesus is the only truly gendered member of the Trinity, and it is unclear whether that gendering was a part of his full humanity in the Incarnation, or intrinsic to his being as a member of the Trinity (I would argue much more for the former).

It is far more likely that the GC was making the argument that the patriarchy exists within the Godhead itself – in that the relationship of the Trinitarian members to each other is, in itself, a male-based hierarchy.

This is where things get dicey.

To put it bluntly, stating that hierarchy exists within the Trinity is to commit the heresy of Arianism. Arianism proposes that the Jesus, the Son of God, is created by and functions as a secondary subject to God the Father. Rather than being equal to God, Jesus is submissive and ruled by God. Jesus is, rather than a fully-functioning member of the Trinity in himself, a secondary, created creature. This runs into the problem of basically making Jesus a second, lower demi-god, rather than a fully functioning, fully integrated member of the one Trinity (in opposition to an orthodox monotheistic understanding of the Trinity).

But what of Jesus “submitting” to God in the garden on the night before his crucifixion?

This is far from simple, but my answer is to remember that Jesus, being God incarnate, is fully God and fully man (another mystery). I would posit that the scene of submission we see in the garden was evidence of his full humanity, rather that evidence of a patriarchal structure within the Godhead.

To say that patriarchal complementarian theology is modeled on the Godhead is to slant and twist an orthodox understanding of the Godhead itself. It is to place members of the Godhead into a hierarchy, when orthodox theological tradition dictates that this is not and cannot be the case.

(This, of course, says nothing about the idea that, if the Godhead is patriarchal, then we are once again gendering a genderless being, and leaving the Holy Spirit high and dry.)

This, I find, is the scariest implication of complementarian theology. Not only does it affect and change individual relationships between men and women here on earth, but it also changes our view of the Godhead itself. It leaves little room for the Holy Spirit, forces a sinful hierarchy onto the relationship between Father and Son (words that are more semantic devices than prescriptive elements), and makes God something that is unorthodox and unbiblical.

Instead, I’d like to propose an alternate understanding of the Church as it reflects the Trinitarian nature of God. This understanding is a spin off from the Baptist theologian Stanley Grenz, who some of you may recognize. It is also an position about which I go into greater detail in my aforementioned thesis chapter.

Here it is: The Trinity is the ultimate understanding of community, and to be the imago dei (the image of God) means to be in community – real, true, giving community – with each other.

Back when I was a young whippersnapper of a theology major in college (and far, far more conservative than I am now), the Trinity was explained to me thus: God the Father and Jesus the Son are engaged in a fully perfect, fully divine, fully loving relationship, and the Holy Spirit is the love, the bond, between the two.

It’s an imperfect analogy (as every Trinitarian analogy is), but it is that structure of community, that idea of the image of God that I have carried with me through my adult life. It is a perfectly equal, perfectly loving relationship that is the image of God, and we are that image of God most perfectly when we are engaged in the act of loving our neighbor. This image doesn’t have to be a romantic relationship, though romantic relationships can themselves take on an image of God. But it is also the man who takes in a hurting neighbor. It is also the friend who prays for you every day. It is also a dinner - a communion - with friends.

The image of God is reflected most clearly when we come together in community, not when we engage in a patriarchal marriage relationship. The image of God that we get from orthodox understanding of the Godhead is fundamentally egalitarian; it is fundamentally based in the love of equal partners, not in one part taking leadership over the other. All lead, and all are saved. Together.

_______

*I put the label for God the Father in quotes as this gendered language – though common Christian tradition – is debatable. While the God of “in the beginning, God,” is frequently referred to as God the Father, he is also referred to in gendered female terms as well. There is an entire academic debate [PDF] surrounding the concept of “God the Father” as a gendered being, but for the sake of this argument, I’m going to simply say that God, as an incorporeal (except in the form of the Incarnation) being, is genderless. Thus the quotes. For simplicity’s sake, "God the Father" and "he" will do for shorthand for now.

Now Entering Bizarro-World

This morning, my friend Hannah tweeted this article by Good Men Project. I’ve had my problems with them in the past, as you know, so I rolled my eyes this morning when my friend Hannah tweeted a piece called “In Praise of Small-Breasted Women.” I’m 5’8”, approximately 135 pounds, and a B cup. I am wholly average. I am not athletic, and I have been blessed by genetics to have a naturally skinny figure. There have been times – despite having a body close to many a man's ideal – that I have felt wholly inadequate: my chest isn’t big enough, my legs aren’t toned enough, my stomach isn’t muscular. I have lived with and continue to live a problematic image of myself as a physical being, a fact compounded by mixed messages of growing up both in the church and in secular society (“your body is dangerous,” vs. “your body is not enough”). It is a struggle every woman goes through.

Reading this piece, I did not feel affirmed in my body – something that was the clear intent of the author.

I felt like a pair of breasts. I felt chopped apart, dissected, and, once again, objectified.

I also felt incredibly skeeved.

So I have a message for the well-meaning men out there who agree with this sort of article: Stop. Just, stop.

The answer to the problem of objectifying women is not to objectify them in another manner. It is not to say to a woman, “Oh, you’re feeling bad because you’re not a C or D cup? Let me tell you, I loooooove A-cups! Love ‘em! I think all women with A-cups are fantastic!”

That’s still objectification, buddy. That is still telling me that you fetishize me based on my body parts. Rather than viewing me as a whole person, you say, “But I like small breasted women!” This continues to participate in a culture of objectification. You are continuing to judge me by a physical standard – it’s just a physical standard that is different from the norm.

When I read the article, I was simultaneously skeeved and angry. I mean, how else does one respond to a line saying:

We’re not the ones throwing themselves at you at the frat party. Or your friend’s wedding, countless drinks in.

Maybe we’re the ones quietly taking you in from five tables away. Listening to your voice. Your perspective. Your sense of humor. The witty way you referenced an F. Scott Fitzgerald line in the middle of ordering your drink.

And yes, don’t worry, we snuck a good, long look at your body.

I mean, ew. EW. I’m much more skeeved out by the idea that a man is objectifying me from fifteen feet away, never talking to me, than I am by a man who walks directly up to me and tells me I have nice legs (both are creepy, but one is significantly more so).

But, anger is a taxing emotion to have, and I was glad, when my coworker suggested – upon reading the article – that many of the lines sound like they could be in a rap song. A bizarroworld Sir Mix-A-Lot, if you will. “For me, an A-cup puts you on the A-list, every time,” sounds like something out of a Beastie Boys song.

I started laughing as I read through the article a second time, noting the cadence and unintentional styling of certain lines. I’m still skeeved, but now I’m laughing at the stupidity of it all. And I’m in a much better frame of mind.

Sometimes, what you need is a good laugh in response to the absurd things in the world. So, give it a try. Take a look at the article, and try your hand at creating some rap lyrics. Maybe we’ll have the next big response to “Baby Got Back.”

Driscollian Logic

[This is part 2 of a two part series. Part 1 is here]. Surprisingly, I only threw the chapter across the room twice through the course of reading it. The first was the passage about the pastor who is manly because he has sex with his wife, which you read in part one. The second is the casual reveal of his wife’s history of sexual assault.

Previous to revealing the sexual assault, the Driscolls spend four whole pages discussing what they apparently view as the major barrier to Grace’s unwillingness to participate in the sex life of the marriage (yes, we’re still on the sex life. Apparently they had no other issues?). Evidently, very early on in their relationship – while seniors in high school – Grace had cheated on Mark while on a trip. One time. Three or four years before they got married. Mark didn’t even find out about the cheating until seven years into their marriage when he received a vision from God that was – as is characteristic of Mark – explicit in its detail of what Grace had done. Grace confesses to the cheating, and Mark has “righteous anger” (Grace’s words).

Hold up. Rewind it back there for a second. She cheated on him once, before they were even seriously involved with each other, before he was even a Christian, during a time when they were both – by their own admission – a bit loose with their morals, and has not done so in the 11 or 12 years since (the timeline is unclear)…and his anger over this is somehow righteous? The claim is made that this incident, that Grace was keeping it quiet from Mark, was the root of ALL of the problems with their sex life.

I can understand Mark being upset about this issue. But they spend four pages on it discussing why this destroyed trust, why it was the root of all of Grace’s sexual problems (again, Mark never had a single piece of baggage to bring into this?), and how Grace had to spend years working to regain Mark’s trust.

I was trotting along through this section going, “Okay, that’s a bit of an overblown reaction to something that happened so long ago before either of you were even seriously committed to each other, but whatever, it’s apparently how they view the world.” And then I was blown away by this paragraph:

Then, after more than a decade of marriage, a root issue was finally revealed [ed note: previous to this, they were discussing the cheating issue as though it was the root issue, so this statement is rather incongruous]. Grace’s problem was she was an assault victim who had never told me or anyone else of the physical, spiritual, emotional, and sexual abuse she had suffered. Hearing the details of her abuse broke me [Mark]. Reliving her pain with her as we worked through things was healing. Yes, it hurt deeply [ed note: keep in mind it’s still Mark speaking here]. But at least the hurt was from a surgery that would cut out the cancer. In forgiving and walking with Grace, I realized that I was so overbearing and boorish, so angry and harsh, that I had not been the kind of husband whom she could trust and confide in with the most painful and shameful parts of her past. I was world-class at truth telling, but my words would tear her down rather than build her up. I spoke to her more as I would to a sinful guy, but where men stood up to my challenges, she fell down. My bitterness had continued to condemn Grace, and she kept shutting down more. In it all, God was gracious and gave me a deeper love for Grace than ever, and gave her a willingness to forgive and work with me. … As Grace began working on her root issues…

*screech*

Well. Okay. So at least he admits that he has an overbearing personality and had made some mistakes when it comes to handling his obviously “delicate” wife. But look again at how he discusses the assault – “Grace’s problem was that she was an assault victim. The details of her abuse broke me. It hurt deeply. … In forgiving and walking with Grace... most painful and shameful" (emphasis mine).

He’s identifying her assault as her “problem,” as something “shameful” that needs to be forgiven by him. To put it more plainly: The way in which he phrases and discusses the abuse makes it seem as though she had to ask forgiveness of him for those past things which were not her fault.

What. Even.

Note also that it is still all about him and his reaction. She – even though she is co-authoring this book! – doesn’t even get to discuss her abuse, which is arguably something much more important than one-time cheating on him in high school. And it should be noted: This is all that is mentioned of the abuse. One paragraph that is more about Mark’s reaction to her revelation than how physical, spiritual, sexual, and emotional abuse was hard to recover from and clearly created trust issues. Rather than allowing Grace the grace of being the victim, Mark puts himself in the victim’s shoes, takes on that role, and silences her discussion of it.

Even the way the next paragraph begins is telling, which is why I included it above: “As Grace began working on her root issues…” It’s not “as we began to work together in helping Grace understand and recover from her past,” it’s Grace doing it on her own. Keep in mind, this is a section following four pages of talking about how Mark and Grace had to work together to get over her sin of indiscretion. Evidently, when it’s an issue that affects Mark in a more direct way (her cheating on him), it takes both of them. Something that affects Grace primarily (and by extension of being her husband, him, however indirectly), it becomes her issue to work through.

Awesome.

I Will Not Suffer a Woman to Speak

This last bit leads me nicely into my concluding critique: It’s a co-authored book, but Mark does most of the talking, even about issues for which Grace would have been a better voice – like her assault, for goodness’ sake. It just strikes me as very odd that Grace is not allowed much of a voice – despite her name being on the cover, she seems to be supplemental, only popping in to echo what Mark has to say, rather than actually providing “the woman’s perspective.” I don’t really have any big point to make out of this; it just made me a bit sad to see how, in telling the story of their marriage, she was only allowed maybe three pages of space. It is as though it is not a marriage of two people, but one person and his mini-me.

That said, I do plan on reading the entire book and will certainly report back when I have had a chance to read it all – though I bet I will throw it across the room multiple more times, if this first chapter is any indication.

Mark Driscoll and "Real Marriage"

So, I made the colossal error earlier this week of printing out and reading the first chapter of Mark and Grace Driscoll’s new book on marriage. If you are in need of a rage-induced heart attack, here’s the link. And I should say: I make myself read these things because I like to develop my opinions based not on what critics are saying, but on my firsthand experience, and since a lot of people hold Mark Driscoll as an authority on gender issues, it's important for me to keep an eye on him.  

Rather than systematically go through the chapter and respond bit by bit, I’m just going to bullet point a few things under headings, ala my friend Grace’s review of the Mars Hill doc. So here’s my quick and dirty initial thoughts (pun intended).

Arrogance, Thy Name is Mark

Driscoll is pretty widely criticized for his arrogance, though defenders would rather excuse it as a "style." In the preface to the book – entitled, in all seriousness, “How Not to Read This Book” – Driscoll reveals a profoundly self-centered and egotistical attitude. He lists several “Don’t’s,” which I can understand doing, having myself issued similar imploring warnings on posts I know to be controversial, or, when I get snarky, mentions of intended tone. But the order and emphasis with which Driscoll makes these warnings is puzzling at best, and kind of disturbing at worst.

The first thing he lists? “Don’t read as a voyeur trying to figure out our sex life.”

Really? That’s his biggest concern for what people are going to take away from the book? He's that concerned that people are oh-so-interested in his sex life with his wife that they’re reading it just out of voyeuristic curiosity? And he's so concerned about it that he felt it had to be listed first, before “Don’t read sections of the book and tell your spouse, ‘I told you so,” or “Don’t keep thinking about all the other people who need to read this book,” or “Don’t be lazy and unwilling to put in the work,” or “Don’t confuse principles and methods.”

He seriously thought “don’t be a voyeur” was so important that he had to list it first and foremost? I have “WTF” written in the margins by that sentence. While I haven’t written a book on marriage, I have written on the issue of sex and sexuality before, and not once did it occur to me to warn people not to read into my posts about what I may or may not be experiencing with the issue. And I’m aware that’s anecdotal, but my experience explains a little of why I’m so baffled that “don’t be a voyeur” would be the first thing he wanted to caution people against. Does he not trust his readers enough to be mature about the issue? Or is he afraid of his critics?

Sexy Sex Sex Sexytimes

I’m just going to say it outright: Mark Driscoll is obsessed with sex to a practically unhealthy level. It is almost scary how often sex is mentioned throughout this first chapter – it is as though every thought about marriage and gender has to do with the act of sex and the quality of intimacy between partners.

I fully recognize that sex is a big part of relationships and problems with a sex life can be symptomatic of other relational issues. BUT, I would refrain from going in the opposite direction – as it appears Mark Driscoll has done – and making it seem as though sex is the only thing that matters when it comes to a healthy, functioning relationship.

Here’s what I mean: Driscoll makes sex into a larger issue than it needs to be in discussing marriage. If this first chapter is any indication, the bulk of this book will center on sex, which fails to recognize that sex is only a part of a whole, rather than the whole itself. He interjects sex into a conversation where sex doesn’t necessarily need to be brought up. For example, when talking about the church he started attending shortly after his conversion to Christianity (from…Catholicism? Hmmm) in college, he states:

The pastor seemed to really love his wife, and they had a faithful and fun marriage. The previous church I had attended was Catholic, with a priest who seemed to be a gay alcoholic. He was the last person on earth I wanted to be like. To a young man, a life of poverty, celibacy, living at the church, and wearing a dress was more frightful than going to hell, so I stopped going to church somewhere around junior high. But this pastor was different. He had been in the military, had earned a few advanced degrees, and was smart. He was humble. He bow hunted. He had sex with his wife. He knew the Bible. He was not religious.

Bluntly: There is absolutely no need to interject sex into that discussion. For one, Driscoll does not and cannot know what sort of sex life this pastor had, unless he was inappropriately sharing about it during the sermon. For two, it’s kind of ridiculous that a young man would be aware enough to know that he didn’t want celibacy at, y’know, nine or ten years old. But for Driscoll, that appears to be a defining characteristic of manhood: having sex with a woman. It is almost as though he’s afraid the reader will forget that he’s a man and he has to remind them every couple of paragraphs that “I have sex with my wife. I have a penis.”

I'm going to say it right now: Having sex is not an indicator of manliness. This is the exact kind of thinking much of the church preaches against - you don't need to be having sex to "prove" that you are a man. But because it's with his wife, it's apparently perfectly okay for Mark to make that syllogism - "Is he having sex with a woman? Yes? Then he is a man." And that's hurtful and dangerous thinking.

Wow, that sounds kind of rape-y.

After reading the chapter, one can begin to understand Driscoll’s odd “don’t be a voyeur” warning. I understand a lot more about the sex life between Grace and Mark Driscoll than I ever cared to know. But one thing in particular kind of disturbed me: the way he talks about sex in terms of his own pleasure and seems to only consider her as an afterthought. He writes,

I felt God had conned me by telling me to marry Grace, and allowed Grace to rule over me since she was controlling our sex life. … Grace was so full of shame and hurt from previous relationships that she didn’t trust that I loved her, no matter how many times I said it. She became afraid of me, and felt used as I tried to explain how she frustrated me sexually, which added to her feeling less valuable.

Notice the use of passive voice. It’s not, “My frustration with her made her feel used.” It’s “She felt used when I tried to explain…” which places him in the seat of being the kind, caring husband who just wants a good sex life but has a wife who overreacts emotionally and doesn’t listen. There’s literally no responsibility taken by him here, even years after the fact. All the intimacy issues they had were Grace’s to work through, her faults that she needed to repent of, and her responsibility to seek forgiveness. For someone who proclaims from the rooftop that marriage is the work of two people, it seems like the blame only rests on one here.

Literally the only thing Mark actually admits fault for? His “bitterness and resentment." That's it.

I recognize that this last part sounds like I'm being unnecessarily critical of Mark himself, so let me explain: the entire first chapter is about his relationship, and as he is writing a marriage book subtitled "The Truth about Sex, Friendship, and Life Together," it is necessary to examine his personal attitudes, from which we can glean his thinking as he discusses this topic. Tomorrow, with post two, it will hopefully become clearer why Driscoll's attitude of sex as a sign of manliness and his focus on his own pleasure are necessary things to note for how he handles the theology of relationships with others. Basically, it is important to look at and critique his attitude and motivations before we can move on to looking at his advice as authoritative (which is what he claims about his own work).

Part 2 on sexual assault and the voice of women will be up tomorrow!