Banned Books Week and My High Horse

I wouldn't exactly call it a trend, though it's certainly been getting some press lately.  No, I've seen it for years.  To be honest, I've probably participated in it, though it was many years ago when I was a very different person.  In the circles I ran in, it was the way things were done.  There were angry whispers, shaken heads, hands thrown up in despair.  It was the end of the world.

Except it wasn't.  And people are still declaring the end of all things decent twenty, thirty years later. (And let's be real, this is a practice that has a much, much older history than my childhood.) What is this epidemic am I referring to?  The idea that we mere humans cannot withstand exposure to (and heaven forbid exploration of) beliefs, opinions, or lifestyles that differ from our own and that we need to weed out the problematic content.

Everywhere I look, there are people in a frenzied scramble to control/erase/hide all ideas that do not align with their personal worldview.  Parents are challenging library books, students are denouncing college courses or book assignments, citizens are protesting against whole ethnic/religious groups.  Somehow, in a country supposedly founded on ideals of free thought/speech and separation of church of state, we as a nation have decided that those rights only belong to the select few who think a certain way.

It's not a new problem.  It's not a problem that's going anywhere.  What disturbs me most, though, is the number of people who are basing these protests and challenges on their personal Christian beliefs.  

That show/movie/book shouldn't be allowed because there are gay people in it.  

That book doesn't belong in the school library because it's about Muslims.  

You know what news stories I'm talking about.  You've seen them too.

Now I know what the people who make these statements would say to me.  They would aim all their righteous indignation in my direction and insist that in addition to eternal damnation, I am risking tramping all over their right to freedom of religion.  That it's their right to believe those things are wrong/evil/whatever.

To which I would say, Exactly.

You have a right to believe anything you want.  You can believe it's wrong for a woman to leave the house or have a job or a blog where she rants incoherently while a large dog breathes down her neck and a kitten claws at her legs. (Too specific?)

What you don't have the right to do is to decide what others believe, or for that matter to decide what other are exposed to.  You don't want your kid to read/watch/see anything related to homosexuality?  Well, good luck with that.  But hey, it's your right to attempt it anyway.

But stop blaming it on Christianity.

Somehow, in the Bible Belt at least (where I live), it has become accepted that if you call yourself a Christian, you are automatically aligned with the ultra-conservative, ban-it-if-we-don't-believe-it crowd.  People I encounter and who know I call myself a Christian, feel I'd be psyched to hear about how some book should be eliminated from their kids' school for scatological humor.  (Yeah, they REALLY don't know me very well.)  It is assumed that I share their outrage over television/movie/book content.

So, here's the thing.  My God is bigger and more powerful and more full of love than anything I can imagine.  My God does not need my defense.  If he is too weak for questions and doubts and people with differing opinions, different religions, then he wouldn't be much of a God, would he?  I have read nothing in Scripture that suggests we were put on this earth to police anyone's behavior but our own.

If you feel morally conflicted about a television program?  Don't watch it.  Don't let your kids watch it.  If you cannot in good conscience read that book assigned for that new course?  Then let the professor know.  He or she will either make other arrangements for you, or they won't.  Suck it up and take the consequences.

But here's where you must draw the line: Don't insist that everyone else should adhere to your personal convictions.

That's it.  It's that simple.  You should absolutely follow the way you feel God is leading/convicting you.  What you should not do, is demand that everyone else is being led the same way and they just missed it.

***

And yet, I'm not finished.  Because I haven't alienated enough people, I'm going to take it one step further and encourage you to read that book about someone different from you.  Did I mention that my God is not threatened by the infinite variety of human beliefs?  He won't be contaminated by you reading about and trying to understand more about people of other faiths.  Regardless of your feelings/beliefs on homosexuality, reading/learning about people who are gay is only going to help you understand other people.

Because that's what we're talking about here.  Beneath all the labels -- Muslims, gays, minorities, Democrats (GASP!) -- we're still just talking about people.  And here's the thing:  Most people are trying to do the best they can with what they were given.  Yes, even that jerk who drives all the way to the end of the entrance ramp and then wants you to let him into standstill traffic like his time is more valuable than everyone else's.  (Grrr.)  Even that guy is probably not setting out to ruin your day, destroy your belief system, or bring down the American family.  (Well, maybe that guy is, but NOT Syrian refugees looking for asylum, or that professor teaching the class on different perspectives of 9/11, or that writer who published a picture book about gay penguins -- how have I not read that book yet?)

So, here's the challenge.  Read outside of your comfort zone (you'll notice I didn't say, "outside your conscience.")  Learn about people and beliefs and ideas that are different than your own.  And most importantly, don't be afraid.  God isn't frightened by a memoir about being a lesbian raised in a funeral home.  And Christians are not (or at least shouldn't be) a people of fear.

And that's my Banned Books Week Shout-out/Rant.  You may now go about your normal lives and not post annoying things in the comments.

(Note/Freebie: Seriously, if I hear one more news story about some ridiculous book or class challenge from the state of South Carolina, I'm going to start claiming one of the many other places I've lived as my "home state.")

Out of Sorts Launch Team - Sarah Bessey

Last Wednesday was a bad day.  Actually, last week was a bad week.  I'm not going to break down every gory detail, but let's just say it was one of those weeks that we all have and would like to pretend don't happen.  But it did, and Wednesday was exceptionally bad.  Like lemon juice on a paper cut bad.  

Before I slip into some serious hyperbole, however, let me tell you something GOOD that happened on Wednesday.  I got an email saying that I was on the launch team for Sarah Bessey's upcoming book, Out of Sorts!!!!  What does this mean, you ask?  Well, let me tell you.  I get to read Out of Sorts NOW instead of having to wait until the release date, November 3.  As I read (and after), I will be posting and tweeting and talking about and promoting this amazing book every chance I get, and I am honored by this opportunity.  In addition, all of the launch team folks (from all over the world) have a secret group page on Facebook (secret probably isn't the right word, but it just sounded so important and mysterious) where we can chat and share and just generally soak up all the good vibes of fellow Bessey readers.  So all in all, a great deal and a much-needed positive in an otherwise horrible week.

So your next question: Who is Sarah Bessey, and why should I care?  If you know me even distantly, or have read my blog, you have probably heard me talk about Sarah Bessey's first book Jesus Feminist, a book so amazing I read it twice, and I can already tell that Out of Sorts will definitely require re-reading.  Sarah Bessey is a Canadian author who grew up in church, took a step or two away from organized religion, then came back with a changed perspective.  She writes about all the questions and doubts that make so many evangelical fundamentalists uncomfortable.  She doesn't shy away from uncomfortable; in fact, she rejoices in it.  Her first book was full of joy and insight and humor, and at just past the halfway mark in the new title, I would have to say that #2 is following the same pattern.  

I will be writing more (and in more depth) about this book both here and in my various social media accounts.  But for now, more time writing means less time reading this amazing book.  So I'm going to back to it!

Reading Crazy

It's Sunday night, and I'm holed up grading papers while my husband watches TV and my books languish on my night stand.  Of course after over two weeks of prednisone, it's probably safer for everyone concerned that I be kept under lock and key.  I was so keyed up yesterday that the smallest annoyance took on epic proportions, and sitting still and following an hour-long television program was impossible.  The good news is that today was the last of that hateful drug, and so tomorrow I should begin to come back down from my steroid mania.  I'm certain everyone in this house will be glad to see the back of Crazy Sarah.

It's going to be another hectic week, full of appointments and classes and general life maintenance.  Here's hoping that I don't crash from prednisone withdrawal as I have in the past, or the week could get a whole lot trickier.  After all the chaos from my illness, I'm constantly feeling a step or three behind, and I realized late Friday afternoon that I double-booked myself for tomorrow morning (doctor's appointment and Kiddo's preschool field trip.)  So now, I'm crossing my fingers that the rain nixes the field trip (they have an alternate date -- I'm not that terrible), so I can make it to my appointment.  Meanwhile, I feel more like a flake than I have since I was pregnant.  I'm still not sure what happened to that organized, no-nonsense, never procrastinating woman who used to live here.  I miss that chick sometimes.  Okay, all the time.

While I haven't been able to watch anything on tv more complicated than episodes of Bob's Burgers (which is AWESOME, by the way), I can, for some reason, read like a fiend while in the midst of my prednisone insanity.  It's so weird because you'd think that would be harder to do than watching television when your brain is on fast forward.  Nevertheless, I've been powering through my TBR list like a boss.  Recently finished:

The Buried Giant, Kazuo Ishiguro.  Not quite the fantasy revelation I'd seen in reviews, but okay.

The Paying Guests, Sarah Waters.  This made so many lists in 2014, but basically it was just a happy-ending lesbian love story/implausible crime novel -- and not that great of one at that.  it was kind of like if Jodi Picoult were British and wrote historical fiction.

Yes, Please, Amy Poehler.  This was entertaining.  If you like Tina Fey's Bossypants, you'll love this too.  The structure is pretty random, and I wasn't personally interested in most of the Parks and Rec stuff, but overall it was a good read.  Also, she and Fey are the only two memoir writers I've read who were like, "Hey, our parents were so great and supportive and wonderful."  It was kind of refreshing.

Currently in-progress:

All the Light We Cannot See, Anthony Doerr.  I'm only a few pages into this.  I tried to start it over a week ago, and then library books came in that needed to be read, so now I'm starting over.  But I like it so far -- even if it does have these little mini-chapters that I'm not completely sold on yet.

Searching for Sunday, Rachel Held Evans.  This one isn't even supposed to be out till Tuesday, but apparently Barnes & Noble stores across the country started shelving it on Friday night, so I swooped in and snagged a copy.  So so good thus far.  Beautiful writing about faith and doubt.  Plus I get to be one of the cook kids and read it before everybody else.

Next up in the queue are some used book store finds that are about as dissimilar as you can get:

Wild, Cheryl Strayed.  I've been listening to her Dear Sugar podcast.

Lady Chatterley's Lover, D.H. Lawrence. Because I've never read it.

House of Sand and Fog, Andre Dubus III.  It was $2.

Making Peace

I don't think of myself as a peaceful person.  A happy person?  A content person?  I try.  A kind person? I probably miss the mark on that more often than I care to admit.  But mostly, I am a seething mass of anxieties and frustrations, guilt and sometimes anger.  Maybe I'm not any more fraught with negative emotions than anybody else.  Nearly all of us put on a smooth, still mask in public to cover the roiling emotions within.  And yet, these days I keep feeling a call to peace.

I am an anxious person by nature.  I worry.  I analyze.  I replay humiliations on a loop in my head, hoping that repeated viewings will reduce the sting.  Not surprisingly, that doesn't work.  An orderly life filled with calm routine is my ideal, but these days it's unlikely to be my reality.  More often than not, my days are that's-not-the-right-foot-get-that-out-of-your-mouth-why-aren't-you-eating-a-few-more-papers-to-grade-just-let-me-read-one-more-book with no reasonable expectation of sanity.  So really, is a desire for peace so surprising?

In our house, peace has come to equal "quiet" and "alone."  Kiddo has learned that to allow Mommy to do something "in peace" means she makes herself scarce while I do something exciting like use the bathroom and scoop the litter box.  Peace is what the cat wants when he flees to the one room in the house where our giant dog can't hassle him.

Yes, please.

But peace is more than the absence of a thing.  No sound, no hurry, no distractions.  Peace isn't always something that waits for you in the quiet spaces.  Those little pockets of solitude in our days can be stressful and anxiety-inducing as we recite lists and obligations, mark down schedules and plan meals.  A few minutes of mindless television can turn into the least peaceful part of the day as a parade of horrors plays on the news, or a program or movie slips into familiar territories of violence, bigotry, and misogyny.

Sometimes we have to actively make peace.

I'm talking about more than turning off the TV and setting aside the to-do lists.  For me, so much about making peace in my life is about intentionally setting aside anger and remembering to what I am called.  My life is to be modeled after Jesus' life, and he was the ultimate peacemaker.  If Jesus had a car, his rear window and bumper wouldn't be crowded with stickers endorsing divisive partisan politics.  There wouldn't be a pithy endorsement of gun rights with a warning about what sort of weapon is protecting the vehicle.  He wouldn't be on social media rejoicing in the violent deaths of anyone, regardless of their histories or crimes. I believe he would weep just as much over the US, with its delusions of exceptionality, as he would over any conflict-riddled place on earth.  He would mourn the brokenness of this world, but he would still love the people in it.  And that love would cross lines of race, politics, sexual orientation, and religion.

Peace has been shadowing me for weeks.  Sunday's sermon? Peace.  Two beautiful books I recently read?  So much about peace.  This is about so much more than my nightly escape to a solitary bath and some one-on-one time with my Netflix subscription.  This is about that unconditional, unwavering love that makes everything else insignificant and small.  This is about living a lifestyle of peace.  Yes, even for that guy in the Mazda who couldn't wait in line like everybody else and cut me off at the exit to 385.  I've got to wish him peace as well.  And the people who post articles to social media that make my blood boil.  There is righteous anger, and there is just wanting to be right.  In scripture, Jesus' anger is laser-targeted and brief.  It's one short episode in a story full of love and peace.  He experienced righteous anger, but Jesus wasn't angry.  But I am.  A lot.

Such is the paradox of peace.  We live in a flawed and flailing world full of injustices that we must not blindly accept as "just the way things are."  And yet, in the midst of our shouting down evil, we must maintain our central message of love.  We are to be a peaceful people, uncorrupted by the violence and vitriol of the world.  It's a balancing act, one that doesn't always lend itself to peaceful feelings.  Even so, from the center of my hectic, messy life to yours, I wish you peace.

Books, Bugs, and a Busted Weekend

Greetings on a Wednesday, aka the first time this week I've had any one-on-one time with my MacBook in a week.  Life has been hairy the past week or two, and I am ready for a breather that's probably not on the horizon.  I've really been feeling the mommy squeeze lately.  Apparently, Kiddo's fifth birthday flipped some sort of I-need-your-undivided-attention-ever-waking-moment switch that has left me feeling frayed and frazzled, and I've lost some of my downtime/writing time to my class schedule (not that I'm complaining about teaching, but more about that later.)  So the weekend was looking promising with a church-planned Daddy-Daughter Dance on Friday evening, a lie-in on Saturday morning, and drinks and books with my best friend on Saturday night.  The solitude and adult companionship was soothing, but I was still feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated come Sunday morning.  A quiet morning alone was required if my sanity was to remain intact, and my husband was very accommodating, not returning from church and lunch and shopping until late, but any ground I might have gained in the sanity department was about to slip away come evening.

We are officially the scourge of preschool.  Kiddo got lice somewhere, and we discovered this lovely fact Sunday night.  Cue hours of frantic cleaning, laundry, treating, and combing.  Somehow, my husband and I managed to avoid the infestation, but Kiddo was not so lucky.  She's been a trooper through all the bad smelling shampoo and hours of combing, but I am so totally over the whole drama.  I did somewhere between eight and ten loads of laundry in twenty-four hours, all while still running the household, making meals, and helping Kiddo handmake fifteen Valentine's for her preschool party.  I am so over being Mommy at this point that after one too many pokes and prods and tugs Monday afternoon, something snapped and I actually said, "Stop touching me!"  Of course, Kiddo thought this was hilarious and a game of Poke Mommy ensued.

Okay, not really, but it felt good to say it.

Not all is bleak and buggy, however.  I am now halfway through week two of my Comp 101 class, and it is going so well.  I have eighteen wonderfully smart and engaged students that make me happy every class period.  Their first outlines were due yesterday, and I was so pleased with their work that I feel nothing but anticipation for reading their first papers (due tomorrow.)  I imagine this enthusiasm will flag a few papers in as nobody WANTS to grade eighteen freshman comp essays, but nevertheless I remain optimistic and grateful for such a respectful, well-prepared class.

Gold stars for everyone! (Except you.)

All of this drama and hard work has seriously cut into my reading time.  I'm still only, like 300 pages into 1Q84 despite it being an amazing read.  I did, however, manage to finish A Year of Biblical Womanhood: How a Liberated Woman Found Herself Sitting on Her Roof, Covering Her Head, and Calling Her Husband Master.  (As a library book, it got priority.  It's .20 a DAY now for late charges. Yikes.)  I really, really loved this book.  I recommend this book.  Read this book.

Rachel Held Evans writes books about faith and doubts and women and equality and all those things I find so important and interesting and some other "i" words that I haven't thought of yet.  She does write from a progressive perspective, so don't go into her work expecting Donna-Reed-Joins-the-Women's-Ministry.  I love what she has to say about so many things (here's her blog) but I have to admit that after reading the introduction to this book, I was a little skeptical.  Sure I agree with what she has say and how she views women and their roles in the Church, but that doesn't mean I want to read an entire book mocking the beliefs of more conservative women.  The idea of someone outside of the evangelical tradition (though she grew up in it) participating in all of kinds of ultra-conservative practices and roles seemed problematic at best, and cruel and mean-spirited at its worst. Yet, she somehow manages to avoid having any of those issues.  She honestly and openly explores fundamentalist (and even some Orthodox Jewish, Mormon, and Catholic) definitions of "Biblical Womanhood" and spent a year trying to live these different principles, whether she agreed with them or not.

Honestly, I'm not sure how she managed to write about calling her husband, "Master," or refusing speaking engagements, or many of the other things she tried while still managing a mostly neutral (and definitely respectful) tone.  The book was definitely funny as she attempts things like cooking her way through a Martha Stewart cookbook and making her own clothes, but her humor is always self-directed.  With the exception of the cooking, she's just so bad at most of the things she tries.  Her self-deprecating tone lightens what would otherwise be a very serious book.  (If you are a fan of Half the Sky -- the book or the film series -- this book is for you, as well.)  Women are suffering.  Women are being told they are second-class citizens.  Women are being kept out of positions of leadership in the church and undervalued.  Women are being abused and killed and sold.  But throughout the book, Evans just keeps emphasizing that women are not the problem.  Women are the solution.  How can you not love that?  

So, overall, I'd put this title right up there with my favorite, Jesus Feminist.  Okay, Jesus Feminist is still my favorite, but this one is a close second.  Now, I just have to find copies of some of Evans' other books as our library system only has this one book.  In the county-wide whole system.  Don't get me started.

Here's hoping this week calms down and gets better (and quieter.)  I've managed to get caught up on my Downton episodes (I was two behind), and we watched the new The Walking Dead last night, so I should be free to read my little heart out tonight after Kiddo goes down.  Tomorrow is going to be a big day, so I must rest up for the sugar-induced frenzy that Kiddo will be in when I pick her up from her Valentine's Day party at preschool in the afternoon.  But for now, my dryer has beeped, which means Kiddo's sheets are clean and ready to be put back on her bed (again.)  After that it's on to lesson plans, errands, and just being mom.  If you need me, just DON'T.

Obsess Much?

Have I mentioned that I am a nerd?  Not in a Oh-My-Gosh-I'm-Such-A-Dork-Because-I-Once-Watched-an-Episode-of-Buffy kind of way.  I am a full-on socially inept obsessive.  I get way too excited when somebody brings up something I feel passionate about (Battlestar Galactica, anyone?) and talk way too fast and morph into this slightly scary fangirl that frightens away whoever brought up the topic.  Fortunately, I had the foresight to marry an even bigger nerd, so my crazy rants about my recent "Rewatch Every Episode of Star Trek: Voyager" project don't even faze him.  Heaven help our five year old.  She doesn't stand a chance at a normal life.  She's already adopted her daddy's recent fixation on Guardians of the Galaxy (I mean, do you know another five year old who's #1 party trick is doing the Baby Groot dance?) and is well on her way to becoming another compulsive reader like her mother. 

Sorry, Internet, this is NOT a nerd.

Like every good, self-respecting nerd I take everything I love in big, obsessive doses that leave me good for nothing much beyond more of the same.  So I thought in today's post I would spend a little time sharing my current obsessions, and if they overlap with any of your personal manias, let me know!

Last night I spent a good portion of the evening bingeing (I just spent an embarrassing amount of time researching the correct way to write this word) on YouTube videos, a pastime I share with my husband -- even if our tastes in videos differ a bit.  We both enjoy Russell Brand's The Trews (short for "True News.")  If you like irreverent political and social commentary, check it out.  As for my personal YouTube favorites, there are always lots of good videos to watch on Geek & Sundry's channel.  Another favorite of mine is Stuff Mom Never Told You, which is a fun web show that delivers exactly what the title says, quick lessons on everything from "How to Wrap a Present" to "Why Do We Kiss Under Mistletoe?"  The woman who hosts is hilarious and smart, and I love to waste a few hours watching her explain absolutely everything.

But last night my Roku YouTube app was cranking out the Book Riot videos.  In particular, I binged on the videos that featured Amanda Nelson, managing editor at Book Riot.  Her videos are thoughtful and funny and very smart.  I lost track of how many I watched last night, but I will recommend her videos on difficult to pronounce author names, finding good Christian non-fiction, and reading outside your comfort zone.  If you're a compulsive reader like me or even just a little bookish, check out the Book Riot channel on YouTube.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am currently on a Murakami bender, so reading 1Q84 is my current reading project.  I am, however, really excited to swing by the library on the way home today to pick up my two current reserves.  The first is a book that I've already read but want to skim again (somebody just buy me this book already), Jesus Feminist, by Sarah Bessey.  I'm hoping I find things I missed on the first reading and have more time to spend on the associated scriptures and such.  The second title that has come in at my local library is Rachel Held Evans' A Year of Biblical Womanhood.  I'm really excited about checking out this book (see what I did there?) as I have heard a lot of good things about it.  Will let you know what I think very soon.  

Let's see what's left for this post?  So little time and space and so many obsessions.  I supposed I'll wrap things up with what's playing on my tv (and movie) screens.  Last year I discovered the British (of course) show, The Bletchley Circle, a historical mystery/drama about a group of woman who worked at Bletchley Park during WWII decoding encrypted messages from the Nazis and helping the Allies to victory.  After the war ended, these women were sworn to secrecy (upon threat of treason charges) and left to return to quiet lives as underestimated wives and mothers, so of course, they must solve crimes.  I'm always a sucker for stories about smart women, so this show is right up my alley and a definite must-watch for fans of suspenseful stories full of code-breaking and mystery solving.  

I've been dying to see The Imitation Game, not only because of the Bletchley Park connection, but also because of the great and wonderful and amazing and...oops, I'm gushing, Benedict Cumberbatch.  Finally got to see this Oscar contender over the weekend with my best friend (my husband was stuck seeing Paddington with Kiddo), and it definitely lived up to the hype.  (The Imitation Game, I mean.  Can't speak for Paddington, though admittedly, Kiddo dubbed it "AH-mazing.")  Cumberbatch did not disappoint, and Knightley's performance was, arguably, the most nuanced of her career.  There were lots of puzzles and code-breaking and people (women included) being smart, and aside from the repetition of one overly pithy and precious catchphrase (think Spiderman's great power/great responsibility chestnut), it was beautifully written and well-paced.  The acting was superb across the board, and the film's handling of Turing's conviction and persecution for his sexual orientation was respectful and powerful.  So that's my commercial for that.  Go see it.

Well, I've once again clicked away an hour at BN cafe, and there is still much work to be done (class starts tomorrow) and hot chocolate to be drunk.  Must dash!

Facebook Fights, or a Few of My Least Favorite Things

I love Facebook.  You will never see a post from me on the evils of social media and the joys of "unplugging."  I use my newsfeed to get my daily dose of world events, political commentary, pop culture and literary reading, and updates on my friends' cute kids.  I don't understand everyone's obsession with Facebook not being the "real world."  I see more of my friends in the real world now that I have Facebook to make plans and keep in touch than I ever did before.  I'm just never going to be that person who picks up the phone and checks in.  I don't like to talk on the phone, but for some reason, Facebook, Google+, and even texting are far less intimidating to me.  (**Note: I am not on Twitter.  I'm not against it.  I don't know why I've never gotten on board.  Maybe one day.)

My favorite part of social media, however, isn't really the social part.  It's the media.  I love reading about people's thoughts on politics and social issues, author's writing about their process, a mother's spiritual journey, an outsider's path to acceptance.  Through social media, I have learned so much about others and myself and the WORLD around me.  New music, obscure writers, information regarding my chronic health issues, indie films -- all of these are things I have discovered via social media.  I have read and encountered people and ideas that have changed the way I thought, or at least broadened my perspective on some things I thought I already understood.  Maybe it's because I'm a writer, but I'd like to think there are other people out there with open minds hoping to make discoveries, not just go on a never-ending search for self-affirmation.

Back to my love for Facebook.  Since opening an account back in 2008, I've been extremely careful what I shared on my homepage.  Too politically divisive?  Not going up.  Too much profanity?  No dice.  Daring to have an opinion on the prevalence of racism in our culture or the legality of gay marriage? Not in a million years.  I saved those gems for my Google+ account.  For some reason, Facebook lends itself to incendiary comment wars.  I like to post articles or links without comment or commentary.  Just food for thought.  You cannot do that on Facebook.  Everything rapidly becomes personal.  You disagree with me so you are evil, and I am the paragon of righteousness and intelligence.  Yes, it seems like almost everyone on Facebook has very strong opinions on nearly every topic imaginable and spends all of their time online scanning for article titles that seem to contradict their fragile worldview.  (Don't even get me started on their inability to actually read the entire article.)

This constant carefulness that I have maintained over the past six years has started to wear thin.  Why when there is so much wrong in this world do I need to worry about being offensive in my desire to see it change?  When did being "nice" become more important than being challenging, innovative, or heaven forbid, provocative?  I'm not talking about being mean or disrespectful.  But is it so much to ask of people to simply look at or listen to another viewpoint?  We each have such a limited perspective.  How can we not benefit from hearing from others?

So twice in the past week I did it.  It wasn't easy.  I've seen the shit storms other friends have endured when they posted something that went against their friends' beliefs or views.  I took a deep breath and posted a video and brief article about one of the beatings of a young African American man in New York by a police officer.  I know, maybe you're thinking what I was: How could my belief that all lives matter and deserve justice and fair treatment be considered controversial or offensive?  But deep down I also knew I was going to get the righty-rants about respecting the police and not resisting arrest.  Because my belief that no one should be beaten by the police apparently puts me one step above an anarchist.  And yeah, it happened.  My hope that humanity would surprise me this time did not pan out.  So I tried it again today.  Different topic, similar result.  Apparently, I am intolerant and ignorant and just plain wrong.  Here's the thing, I have never posted opposing rants on any of their links.  I don't even argue with them when they make absurd comments on my posts.  I'm not out to change minds here.  This is SOCIAL media, you know, like, sharing and stuff?  You share stuff that's important to you, and I do the same, and we all have a good time.  Or not.

What makes me saddest about all this (or really, sad at all, because otherwise I'm not sure I would care) is that so much of the arguing and downright hate gets blamed on Christianity.  Speaking as a Christian, this makes me unspeakably sad.  I am so tired of reading about people who call themselves Christians blaming Scripture for their intolerance and lack of caring.  Some days, I'd just like to sit all of these people I'm "friends" with (many of whom I know from religious circles) and explain to them that Jesus was not a Republican.  And the Constitution was not a God-inspired document on par with the Bible.  And our founding-fathers (at this point even that term gives me the willies) were not additional apostles.  When did loving Jesus become about being right (in either sense of the word)?  When did it come to equal financial prosperity and an inability to imagine the lives of others who are different or less fortunate?  Why do we damn everyone who interprets Scripture differently?  Why are we so worried about what everyone else is doing?  Why are Christians so obsessed with sex in all its permutations and controlling/policing women's bodies?  When did we become so fixated on policing the thoughts and behavior of others? 

I, for one, am so very tired of the whole thing.  It's so disheartening and discouraging to only see Christians portrayed in the media as preachy, judgy pharisees, but I certainly understand why it's all the media shows. Because in America, it has become S.O.P for evangelicals to think and act in this way.  We've forgotten the message of the New Testament, of Jesus, to love one another.  That's it.  If we screw up everything else, that's what Jesus wanted us to do.  So, how is being adamantly against our government providing food for hungry families or health care for people too sick and poor to afford it showing love for others?  Showing love to others means all others -- regardless of race, class, or sexual orientation.  And by love, Jesus means not some theoretical goodwill toward our fellow man, but real, actual compassion.  We can do nothing less and still call ourselves followers of Christ.

So, I guess I said all of that to say this: Today, I hate Facebook just a little bit.  There won't be a status/post declaring this to my friends or a veiled or oblique reference to "some people" in a post.  Here's what I will do: If you like what I post, great.  Say it or don't.  I'm not necessarily looking for affirmation.  If you disagree with what I post, great.  Say it or don't.  I'll even discuss it with you if you like.  But if you slip in to a self-righteous rant that invalidates others' viewpoints, I'm going to put you on the restricted list.  Because life is short, and I don't have time for hate and ignorance.