Thoughts on Phil

OK, here's the deal: I haven't written a blog in forever - like, eight months, literally. But like anybody else with a Facebook account, I was hit this morning with countless images of a haggard, bearded face that belongs to the man who was easily the most talked-about person in America today. Of course, it's not like his face wasn't already ubiquitous; Duck Dynasty pitches everything from coffee cups to sunglasses to feminine hygiene products (probably), in stores ranging from Walmart to Macy's (again, probably - I haven't actually been into a Macy's in many years).

Of course, the news broke today that Duck Dynasty family patriarch Phil Robertson was suspended indefinitely by A&E after GQ posted an article that included an array of, er, incendiary comments by Robertson about topics ranging from homosexuality to race relations. (I couldn't begin to link to all of the material out there about the controversy; typing "Phil Robertson suspended" into Google yielded 193 million hits.)

The responses have been predictable, with social and political conservatives lambasting A&E and rallying around Robertson and those of a more progressive bend (hi there) praising the network and decrying the remarks. The culture war, sadly, has intensified in the last 24 hours, and it's a safe bet that a number of friendships are among the latest casualties.

I simply cannot avoid writing about this. I want to avoid it; I want to hide from it and wait until it goes away. And maybe you're sitting there thinking, That's exactly what you should have done; you're only fanning the flames if you write about it now. But I feel compelled. I can't help it.

I have given the issue a fair amount of thought throughout the day, and I wouldn't say my thoughts are altogether organized. Fair warning: This post will seem random and non-linear; the thoughts expressed below are, for the most part, in no particular order. I might come back to some of them later in another writing if I feel so compelled.

But before I start, a disclosure: I have watched exactly five minutes of Duck Dynasty ... ever. I don't get the appeal. I don't believe these characters are in any way authentic; I believe they are media creations who are getting paid very handsomely to be caricatures. Aside from that, I have zero strong feelings about the show. I don't love it; I don't hate it; I have no interest in it. It's kind of like my feelings about spring in Norway (never been there), or whether you should buy dill pickles or bread and butter (I don't eat any kind of pickles). I'm not interested in defending the show, and I'm not interested in destroying it; I'm simply not interested in it.

I am, however, very interested in the conversation Robertson started - for reasons I can't really explain. I have a fair number of gay friends, but I wouldn't say I've ever really had an in-depth conversation with any of them about their sexuality, and don't really intend to. But over the last few years, this has been become an issue about which I am deeply passionate.

With that said ... let's roll up our sleeves and get to it.

* * *

1. Is this a freedom of speech issue? Absolutely not. I've seen that phrase thrown around a dozen times today, and almost no one seems to understand that a constitutional right to freedom of speech only means that the government can't punish us for something we say. Unless I missed part of the report, Phil isn't in jail; he was only held accountable by his employer after saying some ugly things that reflected badly on that employer. This is not a violation of his freedom of speech; it's simply a consequence of the choice he made to say the things he said.

2. This post on Red Letter Christians stole my thunder, but I had this thought earlier today, even before I read it there: Today was an interesting day for the LGBT community. In one 24-hour period, this whole Phil Robertson fiasco exploded, New Mexico became the 17th state to allow same-sex marriage, a Methodist minister was defrocked for officiating at his gay son's wedding ... and, perhaps least surprisingly, Brian Boitano came out as gay (I know, I know -- I thought this had already happened, too).

The point is this: Today underscores that how big this issue is in our world right now. It's not a marginal issue; it's fairly inaccurate at this point to say it's a growing issue. It is, indisputably, front-and-center. The pendulum has swung; as of July, it was reported that a majority of Americans (again, hi there) are in favor of same-sex marriage being legal. You can like it, you can hate it; but it is inevitable. It is going to happen. Eventually (and I think sooner rather than later), it's going to be a non-issue; just like my generation thinks nothing of white and black people sharing a water fountain, my daughter's generation will not blink at the thought of same-sex couples. To borrow from one of Bob Dylan's very best songs, "The times, they are a-changin'."

3. It will always baffle me why Christians have to be right about this one issue. We can agree to disagree about almost any other biblical topic -- women in ministry, the role of music in worship services, the King James Version vs. newer translations, adult vs. child baptism, et cetera, et cetera -- but there is no room for disagreement here. Anyone who won't say that homosexuality is a sin is labeled a heretic, a relativist, a liberal (hi again).

But Jarrod, you say, the Bible says ... . OK. Depending on who you ask, the Bible has things to say about all those other issues as well, but we don't draw lines in the sand on those? Why must we do that here?

4. And furthermore, if you're convinced it is a sin, why is it necessary for you to tell everyone that? Are you equally compelled to point out gluttony? Pride? I'm guessing no. Pardon me for being so blunt, but this is a classic Pharisee response -- picking an easily identifiable "sin" and using it to draw an easy distinction between who's right and who isn't.

5. Yesterday evening, while driving home from Lexington, I heard a DJ talking about same-sex marriage (I missed the first part of his rant, but I assume it stemmed from the news about Robertson). What I did hear was something like this (obviously, I'm paraphrasing a little): "I will always prefer that people be heterosexual. Now, if you're a homosexual, I'm not throwing rocks at you. I'm not saying that we can't be friends. I'm not saying I won't go to your house for a party, or that you can't come to my house for a party. You're asking me to accept you; why won't you accept me?"

You're not saying you can't be friends with a gay person? Um, yeah ... you kind of are. It's hard to be friends with someone you view as less human than you.

This is where the comparison breaks down. Conservatives are fond of accusing liberals of hypocrisy when it comes to issues of tolerance. The problem with this is that there is a fundamental difference between criticizing what somebody says and criticizing who somebody is. To take exception with this DJ's remarks, or Phil's, isn't damaging to them; it's simply disagreeing, which we're allowed to do in this country. A person's sexuality is an intrinsic part of who they are -- far more so than a belief they espouse -- so to indicate that a person's "lifestyle" is wrong is to say that there is something wrong with them, something less than human. (Phil Robertson, incidentally, took this to a disgusting level with his homosexuality-to-bestiality connection.)

I can hear the response already: But who I am is a Christian who believes what the Bible says about homosexuality. You cannot possibly think that a belief is intrinsically who you are. If Christianity is a set of beliefs -- you're doing it wrong. If the core issue of your faith is whether or not homosexuality is wrong, you have a problem. Really: Take a deep breath, sit back and think about that for a minute.

6. I look forward to a few days from now, when all of this has disappeared from our news cycle and we're on to the next media firestorm. But at the same time, I dread that moment because I fear that my confession of faith will cause me to be lumped into Team Phil. I love Phil Robertson as a person (while maintaining that I couldn't care less about his show), and I accept him as a brother in Christ who is just as flawed as I am, and whose theology has as many holes as mine does (and yours -- sorry to be the one to tell you). But I must reject his words, and I must apologize on behalf of Phil and the rest of the Christian community for the immense hurt that has been inflicted on the LGBT community. We don't all share the same opinion. We don't all share the same beliefs about this particular issue (or many others, for that matter). To my friends in the LGBT community: Please know that you are loved and affirmed and accepted -- by me, and by many others who strive to follow the way of Jesus.

* * *

Post script: I've read no less than eight or 10 blog posts on this controversy today. The best ones can be found here and here.

Rights

"This may not work, and I don't guarantee that it will

But I've got no choice unless you tell me who Jesus would kill."

-- Derek Webb, I for an I

Nothing has sparked as much intensely passionate debate over the last four months as gun safety measures, or gun control (you might call it either, depending on your political leanings).

All of the hoopla culminated earlier this week with the U.S. Senate rejecting a bill that would've required tougher background checks -- a measure that recent polls have found was supported by 86 percent of Americans, according to CNN. The Senate's decision prompted a loud outcry from many, including President Obama and former congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, who was a victim of gun violence at a public appearance in Tuscon, Arizona, back in 2011.

I have largely been silent on this issue for a number of reasons. For one, I tend not to be as outspoken as I used to be; my inner activist is tired, and perhaps a bit disillusioned. For another, I don't have particularly strong views on guns. I've never owned one; I've never fired one; and I see no reason to change that. For me to get my hackles up about whether I'll be able to purchase a semiautomatic weapon would be about as silly as me getting in an uproar if Jheri curl were unavailable.

But in the wake of yesterday's decision, I would like to offer a couple of thoughts: One common-sense, and one spiritual.

* * *

Most reasonable people would agree that, at face value, the proposed measures were good ones -- although some would argue they didn't go far enough. People who cannot pass a background check and buy a gun through a licensed dealer should not be able to bypass that background check by purchasing a gun online or elsewhere; this is not a difficult concept to understand. I haven't heard too many people dispute this; to be honest, I don't know how anyone could.

In fact, most of the opposition I've seen has been based on "slippery slope" arguments: The completely unfounded ideas, primarily put forth by people and corporations with something to gain (I'm looking at you, NRA), that background checks will ultimately lead to Big Brother confiscating our guns -- or a zombie outbreak, or a Billy Ray Cyrus resurgence, or something similarly ridiculous.

Perhaps there's a lesson to be learned in how easily otherwise sensible people have swallowed such hogwash. Perhaps it's a commentary on how woefully ineffective our government has become; as someone opined on NPR one day this week, if Americans can't trust the government to do something like agreeing on a budget, why should we trust the government to properly handle something like gun safety? Perhaps it simply highlights how polarizing President Obama is; sometimes, one gets the impression that many Republicans would insist that the moon is made of cheese if the president publicly stated otherwise.

But, whatever the reasons, some people bought the hype. Throughout the debate, my Facebook news feed has been littered with lies, half-truths, and quotes taken out of context. In the last 48 hours, it has been filled with posts about "victory" and "defeat" -- this from a country that takes such great pride in a system that is all about the will of the people.

In a blind test, with no identification of the issue in question, everyone would agree that something supported by an overwhelming majority of Americans should be put in place by the people we elect to govern on our behalf. Everyone would agree that our leaders failed us miserably Wednesday, and that they deserve to be held accountable.

We can only hope.

* * *

I was considering whether or not to weigh in on this topic when a Facebook post caught my eye this morning that stirred up enough anger that I could no longer keep silent. It seems that Bob Davis, a conservative talk radio host in Minnesota, recently offered the following rant directed at the families who lost children in the Sandy Hook school massacre -- unconscionable even by conservative talk radio standards:

"Just because a bad thing happened to you doesn't mean that you get to put a king in charge of my life. I'm sorry that you suffered a tragedy, but you know what? Deal with it, and don't force me to lose my liberty, which is a greater tragedy than your loss. ... I would stand in front of them and tell them, 'Go to hell.'"

The crux of his argument is beyond appalling: His rights are more important than someone's life.

The truth is, we often extol this attitude as a virtue. Braveheart, the story of William Wallace's bloody quest to lead Scotland to "freeeeeeeedoooooom!," is on many a list of favorite films.

But I think there are some additional thoughts that must be considered, particularly by those of us who are followers of Christ. (By the way, the rest of this piece is directed solely at Christ-followers, who have an extra level of responsibility in how we deal with this and any other issue. We must look through the lens of the kingdom of God -- God's dream and design for how our world is meant to operate.)

The first is the issue of guns in general. Somehow, a piece of metal has taken on inordinate importance for many. The argument over gun rights has, at least temporarily, surpassed even the old standbys -- abortion and gay marriage -- as a flashpoint for those on the right.

Meanwhile, even a cursory search of the scriptures finds the psalmist proclaiming, "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God" (Psalm 20:7); Isaiah envisioning a day in which the nations will beat their swords into plowshares (Isaiah 2:4); and Jesus himself admonishing his followers that "all who draw the sword will die by the sword" (Matthew 26:52).

Certainly these scriptures, and others like them, do not mean that it's sinful to own a gun; that is not what I am suggesting. But in light of these passages, can those of us who follow the way of Jesus not agree that, if guns aren't the world's greatest evil, they also aren't a virtue?

The recent gun rights controversy is only symptomatic of a larger problem in the American church: Entirely too much focus on our rights.

We vehemently assert our right to public prayer. Our right to post the Ten Commandments in schools and courtrooms. Our right not to be contaminated by the sinful world we live in. Our right to say things that others might take as hateful or bigoted -- after all, we're only telling them what the Bible says ... and besides, we really love them, we just hate their sin.

All the while, we profess to follow Jesus, who laid down his rights -- "made himself nothing by taking on the form of a servant," as Paul described it (Philippians 2:6). We profess to follow Jesus, who was executed willingly because he didn't fight back when he was the victim of injustice.

Am I saying that our rights do not matter? Of course not. Even Paul invoked his rights as a Roman citizen to ensure that his trial was conducted properly when he was jailed.

But I am saying this -- and prepare yourself, it's strong:

When our rights as Americans take a place of preeminence in our lives, we have made ourselves Americans first and Christ-followers second. We have made our flag, or perhaps our Constitution, a graven image to which we bow. We have become idolaters.

We should discuss, and even debate, issues. We should question our government's decisions when we disagree with them. Dialogue is healthy. Disagreeing on issues is OK. I believe there are gun-toting, flag-waving, right-leaning members of the NRA who are sincere in their commitment to the way of Jesus; I would hope that those people believe the same about me.

I don't want to pretend that I know exactly where the line should be drawn; but I think it's clear we have crossed it. That seems obvious when Bob Davis can claim that his own personal liberty matters more than the lives that were lost in Connecticut in December. People of faith from all across the political spectrum should condemn Davis' comments for the vile, rotting garbage they are.

I think it's important to make a distinction here. I haven't heard anyone make an argument against gun safety measures on the basis of how they affect someone else; the argument is always about my rights or our rights. As followers of Jesus, we are called to advocate for justice for others. We are required, in Micah's words, to "do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God" (Micah 6:8). Our mandate is to be others-centered; Paul, again, admonishes us, "In humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others" (Philippians 2:3-4).

What if we could take all of the energy that's been exhausted on the gun debate -- and the money the gun lobby has spent to buy senators -- and apply them to advocating for the rights of someone who is the victim of injustice? What if we pushed that hard for something that would change the world for the better? Heck, what if we just loved our neighbor as much as we love ourselves?

Doesn't that seem like a better way forward?