Is the “Good War” Against Abortion, and the “Bad War” Against Gay Marriage?

The great Fred Barnes at The Weekly Standard recently wrote:

Foes of gay rights are now seen by the press as fighting the bad war, roughly analogous to Vietnam. Pro-lifers are waging the good war, like World War II. “You get much less grief fighting against abortion than you do fighting to preserve traditional marriage,” says Marjorie Dannenfelser, president of the Susan B. Anthony List.

If only the media knew. They have missed the most important breakthrough in the struggle over abortion in years: the resurgence of the pro-life crusade. The press elite was beaten on the story by publications such as Christianity Today (“The New Pro-Life Surge”) and Baptist Press (“5 Reasons the Pro-Life Movement is Winning”).

I have a personal investment in the good war / bad war analogy, since I shared that analogy with Mr Barnes over the phone.  He had read my recent pieces (“The Canary in the Mineshaft” and “Turning the Tide in the Abortion Struggle“) reconsidering the pro-life movement.  I’m happy he found the analogy helpful, and it was shared openly with no sense of ownership.  (Although I’d correct one point: the “5 Reasons” article from Trevin Wax was published first at Patheos, and only reprinted at Baptist Press.)

Last week I received a note from Ruth Moon at Christianity Today, who is putting together some quick-hit thoughts, based on Mr Barnes’ article, on the question: “Has the fight over gay marriage made it easier to advocate for pro-life causes since there’s now a more salient ‘bad guy’ in the public eye (in the form of people opposed to gay marriage)?” Since she will (of course) only post a portion of my response, here were my thoughts in full:

The pro-choice camp once contended that pro-lifers opposed abortion because they hate women. It was plainly untrue, and they lost that part of the argument. Pro-choicers now depict pro-lifers as wrong on the facts and too eager to impose their religious values on others, but they rarely depict us as hateful anymore. Yet the gay marriage movement still depicts the opponents of same-sex marriage as hateful toward gays — and they appear to be winning the argument.

The pro-life movement has a kind of romance and idealism that the pro-traditional-marriage movement does not. Pro-lifers are defending the most innocent of all creatures. That’s appealing. But it’s harder to explain whom the opponents of gay marriage are protecting – and so the supporters of gay marriage imagine the worst of motives. If we cannot explain, or they cannot perceive, rational and loving motives for our position on marriage, then those who passionately disagree with us will assume that irrational and unloving motives compel us instead.

Note, however, that this all has to do with the ways in which Christians are depicted. If we have the courage of our convictions, and care more for the approval of God than the approval of men, then we will do what is right regardless of how it shapes our public perception. But there’s no question that the social cost of opposing same-sex marriage is now significantly higher than the social cost of opposing abortion.

In World War 2, “the good war,” the allies fought on behalf of innocents and on behalf of civilization.  The urgency and import of our intervention was clear.  In Vietnam, we fought to arrest the expansion of communism into Southeast Asia, and it proved increasingly difficult to establish a clear connection between our actions and saved lives.  Wherever communism went, it brought hardships, systematic suppression of human rights, and often mass slaughter of counter-revolutionaries.  A strong case could be made for our actions there, but that case lacked the moral clarity of WW2.

Now take a look at this video touting the growing momentum in the pro-life movement amongst the young.

The idealism of the movement is striking.  At one point in the video David French, a Patheos blogger, tells the students at a massive pro-life gathering: “You are a defender of the defenseless.  You want the unwanted.  This is who you are.  This is what you do.”  That’s a tremendously powerful — and appealing — message.  There’s no assault upon the motives of the abortive mother.  There’s no denigration of women and their freedom.  There’s a crystal-clear focus on the protection of the innocent and the vulnerable, along with a belief that protecting innocent life trumps all other concerns.  Moreover, a powerful pro-life argument can be made with no reference whatsoever to the Judeo-Christian scriptures.  With reference to genetics, biology and ethics, the case is just as lucid for the unbeliever as for the believer.

Contrast that with the gay marriage debate.  It’s tough to construct an argument against gay marriage without appealing for justification to scripture.  It’s not impossible.  One can appeal to natural law, but few who are not already committed to natural law will find this persuasive.  And one can make the argument that the legal sanctioning of same-sex marriage (1) further deteriorates the institution of marriage and (2) harms the children whom marriage protects, but the first part is abstract and theoretical and the second part is difficult to demonstrate conclusively.  Both sides can cite studies.  So gay marriage appears to be “victimless.”  To be clear, I’m not saying these arguments fail from a logical point of view.  I think these arguments are correct.  I’m saying instead that they fail to persuade the majority, since the case is complex, the water is muddied, and there are strong countervailing cultural winds.  Unless you are convinced on religious grounds that same-sex relationships are sinful and therefore inherently destructive — for the gay couple, for children they might raise, and for a society built on the marital unit — you’re unlikely to oppose same-sex marriage.

There are other factors as well.  (a) There have been, in movies and television in particular, relentless efforts to stigmatize anyone who disapproves of homosexual relationships.  (b) The issue of responsibility is more complex in the case of same-sex marriage as well.  A credible argument has been made that gay people are “born that way.”  But no one is born pregnant with an inclination toward abortion.  We can ask women and men who are leaning toward abortion to choose otherwise; many people believe we cannot really ask a gay person to choose otherwise.  Also, (c) the gay rights lobby has very successfully made the argument that equal treatment in matters of marriage is a matter of basic human rights, in line with the Civil Rights struggle.  If true, this would justify treating the opponents of same-sex marriage not just as holders of a different opinion, but as human rights violators.  Finally, (d) there’s a sense that the pro-life movement is winning ground while the pro-traditional-marriage movement is losing ground.  No one wants to fight on a losing side.

Consider this little bit of anecdotal information.  As an editor and director for a large religion website now, I can tell you: It’s substantially easier to find Christians and evangelicals to write on the abortion issue than it is to find ones who will write on same-sex marriage.  Academics in particular are terrified that anything critical of homosexuality or same-sex marriage will come up before hiring or tenure committees.  One of the first subjects we addressed in our “Public Square” at Patheos was the same-sex marriage debate, and nearly every person I approached to write on the topic had to ask himself or herself: “Am I willing to give up the next job, the next promotion, the next award, because of my views on this topic?”

In academic circles, you can question the morality of abortion and still be tolerated.  But if you question the morality of homosexuality, you are an oppressor and an opponent of human rights.  They’re perfectly justified in rejecting you, since your opinion is not only factually wrong but morally wrong, reprehensible and oppressive.  By rejecting you, they’re not being prejudicial or intolerant; they’re protecting the rights of gay faculty and students.

This is not to say that the defenders of the unborn and the defenders of traditional marriage have been working at odds with one another.  In fact, I think the latter can take heart from how the terms — and the momentum — have changed in the abortion debate.

Deep Thoughts on Fatherhood, Volume 1

Alligators: They never leave my daughter alone.

1.  SHE IS…SASHA FREUD.  It was while explaining the lyrics to my three-year-old daughter that I realized the emotional and psychological dynamics of “If You Liked It, Then You Shoulda Put a Ring On It” (real title: “Single Ladies”) are surprisingly deep and nuanced.  In addition to the gloss on her lips and the man on her hips, that Beyonce has profound insights into the mind of the taken-for-granted female.

2.  BLASTING BEHIND.  In recent weeks my wife and I have discovered that when our infant (2 months old) dirties her diaper, there’s roughly a 50% chance that the brown stuff will escape the diaper and climb up her back, down her legs, into every nook and crevice of her lower half, and all over her clothes.  How it climbs up between her shoulder blades, even when she’s sitting upright, is a mystery.

Of course, I’m a philosopher and my desire is to understand the world in which we live.  Struggling to explain this phenomenon, since we used a brand-name diaper that worked well for us with our first child, I came up with two options: (a) Dovetailing Devilry: the particular shape of this specific diaper is not suitable for the particular shape of our baby’s backside, or (2) the Potency Possibility: our daughter simply defecates with spectacular force.

There is at least a prima facie plausibility to both explanations.  I’ve noticed that our baby’s backside looks surprisingly like the wrinkled bottom of a female octogenarian — or, rather, what I imagine such a bottom would look like, since I have not seen any myself.  On the other hand, our daughters have always been powerful little girls, and they do everything they do with gusto.  Combining Dovetailing Devilry with the Potency Possibility, is it possible that our baby simply has a bunker-busting granny fanny?

3.  WORD TO THE WISE.  If you’re ever driving your daughter to school in the morning, and Wendy Wright (past President of Concerned Women for America) is sitting in the passenger seat, do not play “Drop it Low” for your three-year-old little girl.  This is not because Wendy Wright will disapprove — for such a famously Concerned woman, she was entirely unconcerned and mostly amused — but because your daughter will start chanting “Go daddy, go daddy” and expect you to bust a move.  It was only once I began to show Wendy the dancing skills that I used to entertain my daughter in the car (which involves a lot of head-banging) that she began to look Concerned.

After “Drop it Low” and “Single Ladies” (my daughter’s two favorites right now), I played “Old MacDonald,” just so Wendy could see that my daughter enjoys three-year-old fare as well.

4.  ON THE PERSISTENCE OF ALLIGATORS.  Me: Where’d that scrape come from, sweetheart? My 3-year-old girl: I don’t know…I think an alligator bit me. Me: Again?  That’s the third time you’ve been bitten by alligators this week. Her: Again.  Me to myself: Geez, that girl’s gotta deal with a lot of alligators! A friend, when I related this story: Maybe you should consider moving out of the swamp.

5.  GUNS AND YOUNG’UNS.  Like all fathers of daughters, I look forward to terrorizing potential suitors.  When I saw what a beautiful daughter I had on my hand, I began to consider the guns I should purchase.  I figure a shotgun will do well for the first time I meet the young man at our house, and a pistol on the dashboard will be suitable for making him urinate himself in the backseat when I drive them to the movie theater for a chaperoned date.

Just kidding, of course.  I will never allow my daughters to date.

RANDOM THOUGHTS

1.  WHERE’S THE POINT?  Is there such a thing as “low” dudgeon?  If not, if there’s no point of reference, how do we determine when somfeone’s dudgeon is high?  Moreover, if you can be “in” high dudgeon, how do you get out of it?

2.  PASTORAL POSEURS.  Pastors must get tired of photographers telling them to sit at their desks and pretend to read their Bibles.

CONCLUDING THOUGHT

UNINTENDED VULGARITY.  If you have virgin ears, you might want to skip this one.  Recently I returned from “work” and found my daughter watching the end of an episode of Dora the Explorer.  There’s a character in “Dora” called Tico the Squirrel.  I asked my daughter what had happened in the episode.

She looked at me with wide-eyed innocence and reported: “Tico tore his sack and his nuts fell out.”

I wrote that one down so I could tell the story at her wedding.  Her arranged wedding.

Those Hyper-Politicized Evangelicals!

Believe it or not, the senior pastor at the conservative evangelical church I attend — Perimeter Church in Johns Creek, Georgia — does not (I repeat: does not) condemn homosexuals and abortionists from the pulpit every week.  In fact, in the 1.5 years in which I’ve attended Perimeter Church, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard Randy Pope (or any of the other preachers) speak of homosexuality or gay marriage from the pulpit.  They’ve spoken of radical self-denial in pursuit of the kingdom of God.  They’ve spoken of employing your talents and your gifts in service to the mission of God.  They’ve spoken of the basics of the gospel and the process of spiritual maturation.  Although I don’t recall any specific occasions, they may have referenced the hot-button issues in brief from time to time.  But no sermon has been devoted in whole or in part to abortion or gay marriage or euthanasia or the like.  The preachers have never endorsed any candidates or political parties, or even (that i recall) mentioned any elected officials by name.  The only reference to Barack Obama has been to pray that God would guide “our President.”

This tends to shock my non-evangelical friends.

I don’t blame them.  They live in thought-worlds where evangelicals only rear their zealous heads when they support Prop 8 or vote pro-life or say something spectacularly offensive.  The media is little help.  Pathologically attracted to the extremes and the grotesques, mainstream media journalists leap with delight to stories like the Quran-burning Terry Jones, the apocalyptonaut Harold Camping, or the alternative-universe “dominionists” who want to cast the demons out of all the Masonic lodges throughout America.  Or when the mainstream media shows a positive portrayal of an evangelical, it’s an evangelical of the “progressive” persuasion who pours scorn on his conservative brethren and champions the media’s favored causes.  When they report on the conservative church in the suburbs that mobilized in support of Prop 8, do they mention the boatloads of canned goods the same church sent to Haiti after the earthquake?  Or when they recite the latest outrageous thing Pat Robertson said, do they mention that he founded a relief and development organization that’s delivered over $1.2 billion worth of goods to needy people around the world?  Of course not.

So it’s easy to get the impression that conservative evangelical churches are filled with fire-breathing hate-peddlers.  It’s easy to conclude that conservative evangelical churches are not centers for gospel proclamation, for healing the damaged and the wounded, and for expressing God’s grace through acts of love to the community — but are, instead, GOP recruitment centers and bristling outposts in the culture wars, training centers for a mindless conservative militia.

First of all, let’s admit: there are “evangelical” churches that have bring-your-gun-to-church Sundays.  There are “evangelical” churches where you can hear sermons like “Why I Hate President Obama.”  And there are people who do prayer walks outside mosques and Masonic lodges in order to win spiritual dominion over the land.  Evangelicals need to acknowledge that such churches and groups exist, in order to dispense with bad apples and bad theology.

Cyclops Kitten: the Harold Camping of the animal world.

Yet these are a vanishing minority.  Like “Cyclops Kitten,” they make the news because they’re bizarre and rare.  They also make the news because liberals tend to resent evangelicals for voting conservative, and stories like these give liberals a convenient way to dismiss, mock and marginalize the evangelicals who disagree with them.  And when conservative evangelicals do engage in the political process, or make a biblical case for a particular policy or politician, this occasions lamentations and accusations that evangelicals have forgotten the essence of true Christianity in favor of a “Constantinian” theocracy.

As it turns out, however, evangelical churches are arguably the least-politicized of all the major churches.  At a recent meeting of the excellent Faith Angle Forum, David Campbell, author of American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us, presented his updated research.  When asked whether they heard sermons on political or social issues once a month or more, here is how America’s major religious groups responded:

  • Jewish: 41.4%
  • Non-affiliated: 30.5%
  • Black Protestant: 29.6%
  • Catholic: 20.7%
  • Mainline Protestant: 16%
  • Evangelical: 13.7%

I don’t have figures for Muslims, but the only religious group that definitely had a lower percentage of sermons on political/social issues was, interestingly, the Mormons.  Only 2% of Mormons said that they heard a sermon on social/political issues at least once a month.  (My thanks to Dr. Campbell for sharing the exact figures with me.)  But isn’t it interesting that liberal secularists rarely complain about the “politicization” of the Black Protestant or Mainline Protestant churches?

The findings for evangelicals match perfectly with my experience.  I’ve spent 35 years in evangelical churches, and I’ve attended and visited scores of congregations in California, New Jersey, Massachusetts and Georgia.  I’ve never attended a church — I’ve never even visited one — that addressed social/political issues frequently.  Most evangelical churches believe that the sermon, the pulpit and the Sunday service are for growing in our understanding of God and what the revealed Word of God means for our lives and our mission in this world.  Issues like abortion are tremendously important; they’re not merely “cultural” issues but deeply moral and theological issues; yet they are rarely addressed before the whole congregation.

My current church has often refused candidates and politicians who wish to address the congregation.  To give you a flavor, here are the announcements in a recent Perimeter Church bulletin: An “Orphan Sunday” training class for foster parents and adoptive families, a “diaper drive” for the Salvation Army, disaster relief for Thailand, mentoring elementary school children, “how to be a certified safe family” for children of families in crisis situations, a ministry to the jobless, a “home repair ministry,” a medical missions trip to Guatemala, delivering furniture to families that have lost their homes, and a ministry to children with special needs.

And yet, again, when I tell some of my skeptical friends that my theologically conservative evangelical church very rarely speaks of homosexuality or gay marriage, they find it almost impossible to compute.  Since the only thing they “know” about evangelicals is that they love guns and hate gay people, they assume that evangelicals gather together around their causes and prejudices.  The consequences are severe:

  • When evangelicals are depicted as obsessed with issues like homosexuality, they do not recognize themselves in this depiction.  They wonder what world their critics are describing.  Evangelicals feel marginalized, misunderstood, and savagely misrepresented by American media culture.  Unfortunately, this adds impetus to the movement to withdraw into the evangelical subculture and view themselves as a persecuted minority.
  • Secular liberals in particular get a distorted picture of who evangelicals are and what they care about, and the broader culture misses out on opportunities to engage and collaborate with evangelicals in areas where there is common cause.
  • Liberal Christians should not underestimate the damage this does on a spiritual level.  How many people might have gone to the local evangelical church, and how many might have started down the path toward faith — whether they go on to become evangelicals or Mainliners or Catholics or Orthodox, whether they’re politically conservative or liberal or nothing in particular — if they had not been handed a raving caricature of evangelical churches, if they had not believed that all they’d find in those churches was the mobilization of prejudice and political enmity?

This is why (and I’ll write more on this shortly) liberal Christians should fight against the caricature of evangelicals just as much as conservative Christians do.  Some have earnestly bought into the caricature, even though they should know better, or should at least take the effort to investigate whether it’s true.  Others propagate the caricature as a way of making themselves look better by comparison.  I’m not one of those evangelicals, they say.  Everything you say about them is right; in fact, I can condemn them with even greater gusto than you; but I’m the rational and progressive Christian who really gets what Jesus was all about.  But confirming the caricature for the secular world does a tremendous amount of damage — first of all to the truth, and second to the spiritual lives of those who might have benefited from an evangelical church if they had not been armed with misinformation against it.  The theological differences that distinguish us are important.  But Christians Right and Left should not caricature one another, and should dispute the caricature against “the other side” that prevails on their side.

So as stories multiply of evangelical churches engaging the election process for 2012, let’s remember this: evangelical churches are, among the larger religious groups, the least likely to reference political and social issues from the pulpit.  Many who condemn them for “hyper-politicization” are less concerned with the fact of political engagement than with the fact that evangelicals tend to support the causes they oppose.

 

The Flesh Made Word: “Earthen Vessels” and the Sacred Art of Tattoos

I’ve appreciated the thoughtful Matthew Lee Anderson ever since I came across his Mere Orthodoxy blog a couple years ago.  When I learned he was writing a book called Earthen Vessels, focused on “why our bodies matter to our faith,” I looked forward to reading it.  I remember how revolutionary it was for me when I came to understand (through Alexander Schmemann’s For the Life of the World) the implications of the Incarnation of Christ and the bodily resurrection.  There is no bright line between our bodies and “who we are.” We are essentially, irreducibly embodied creatures, and this implies the original created goodness of the body, its entanglement in the sins of the spirit, and the futility of any philosophy or religion that seeks to disembody the self or to transcend the body in the spirit.

Anderson devotes a chapter to the increased frequency of tattoos amongst evangelical youth and what this tells us about the evangelical subculture and its relationship to the culture at large.  Not so long ago, tattoos were, instead of chosen, imposed as markers of ownership — belonging to a gang, or a slavemaster, or a Nazi concentration camp.  Also recently, tattoos were markers of social defiance and deviance, of marginalized people groups and underclass laborers.  The tattooed were prison inmates, or bikers, or sailors, or sexual revolutionaries.  As Anderson notes, however, tattoos have been “mainstreamed” both within broader American culture and more recently within evangelical Christian culture.  Tattoos became less accidental (a girlfriend’s name on a drunken night) and more deliberate and expressive (a line from a poem, or an icon), less crude and more artistic, less provincial and more global (consider the frequency of Chinese characters, e.g.).  Anderson cites an eye-opening statistic: Nearly 40 percent of young adults aged 18-28 have tattoos now, which is more than four times the number in the Baby Boom generation.

Anderson suggests that young American evangelicals are attempting to define themselves and thus establish a kind of fixed point of identity amidst the flux and instability of a deteriorating world.  ”The decay of the family, the emptiness of our church experiences, our geographical transience, the inability to find employment–these are the sorts of pressures that have left many young people with a lingering sense of emptiness and instability.”  The practice of tattooing “treats the body…as an object for our self-construction,” and functions as an assertion of individuality.  The tattoo is a constitution and a declaration of independence all at once.

Of course, Anderson appreciates the irony.  Young people use tattoos to declare their individuality — because that’s what everyone else is doing.  ”While tattoos mark a desire for significance within a destabilized world, they are a live option for most young people precisely because we have not escaped the clutches of the consumerism and the individualism that are so often criticized” (112-113).

All of which is true enough.  Anderson is a gifted anthropologist for homo evangelicus and homo americanus both.  I just want to offer a few other thoughts:

(1) Tattoos as the search for permanence. As with any complex human behavior, the field of potential motivations here is vast.  Since tattoos stand for permanence, Anderson is right that those who obtain tattoos are often — often – looking to assert something permanent and enduring about themselves.  Here, they’re saying, is my essence; this is who I am and what matters to me fundamentally, and this will not change.  Kierkegaard speaks of a kind of dizziness that one feels when one perceives one’s own nothingness.  Looking down, we see that we are, at least apart from God, one layer of construction atop another, all the way down.  We perceive our own freedom, perceive that we are a project of our own freedom, and the dizziness that follows when we recognize that we stand upon nothing but our own capricious self-assertion is enough to make us want to latch onto something concrete.

(2) Tattoos as the Art of Self-Destruction. So with tattoos, perhaps we’re making ourselves our own construction projects.  But tattoos can also express deconstruction, or even destruction, of the self.  Let’s not forget that the person who gets a tattoo is
intentionally inflicting pain and suffering upon himself.  Tattoos can be rites of passage and tests of courage and endurance, and an effort to externalize suffering in the form of self-mutilation.  In some cases, at least, tattooing can be similar to “cutting,” where a young person (typically) who loathes himself or wishes to punish himself indulges in repeated cutting.  In this sense, tattoos can be an outward expression of inward self-hatred.  Note the way he presents himself: not straight on, but askew, head slightly lowered, without a smile, with a long gaze that speaks of hardship and solitude.  The symbols upon his face may have political significance, but they have psycho-spiritual meanings as well.

The man pictured on the right has done violence upon his body, both physical violence and a kind of visual, artistic violence.  This is why, I think, tattoos amongst the “hard core” are often accompanied by other “bod mods” (or body modifications), which are really self-mutilations.  Consider this person, who has made himself into an image of death and coordinated his tattoos with a nose ring and twin spikes emerging from the bridge of the nose.  This is an especially literal example of externalizing the internal.  The skull is presented upon the surface.  This is not a striving for permanence so much as a brutal reminder of impermanence and decay.  He has turned himself into a corpse.

These examples go far beyond the tattooing we typically see in evangelical circles, but they may show in extremis what tattoos can communicate.  Tattoos can be acts of self-construction, but they can also be acts of self-destruction.  When our children express an interest in tattoos, especially if they go beyond a cross or a rose upon the shoulder, then parents might be wise to consider whether their children have been taught to love themselves and cherish their bodies, or whether their tattoos might be modern forms of self-flagellation.

3.  Tattoos that Celebrate Randomness.  One trend I noticed when looking at tattoos online is that some celebrate the very opposite of transcendence and permanence: they celebrate fleeting moments in superficial celebrity culture.  The moment when Britney Spears, her head shaved, raged against the paparazzi, or Maddox Jolie-Pitt, or Will Ferrell in “Elf”.  These seem like the last images you would want to impress upon your body permanently — but that’s the point.  This is a defiance of the passage of time, a celebration of randomness, weirdness, and the fleeting nature of pop culture.

Tattoos are simultaneously deep and superficial.  They’re deep in the sense that they’re lasting, even permanent.  They’re superficial in the sense that they’re “only skin deep.”  Perhaps tattoos like this communicate a fascination with surfaces.  I am my surface, tattoos like this say.  Life is nothing more than a random series of disconnected moments, and we have no choice but to revel in the absurdity and contingency of it all.

4.  The Flesh Made Word.  More common in general is the practice of tattooing Chinese characters, and more common in Christian circles is the practice of tattooing Bible verses or biblical or theological phrases.  This is especially interesting in the light of the theology of the LOGOS and the incarnation.  In the incarnation, the LOGOS, the eternal Word, became flesh.  The LOGOS transcended the world and its changefulness, representing the eternal truth and the power by which all things were called into Creation.  But when a Christian tattoos a Bible verse or a faith-phrase upon her body, she makes her body into a text.  She reverses the incarnation of Christ; in her de-incarnation she is making the body, what is prone to messiness and effluvia and decay, into a true and eternal Word.  They are turning themselves into the Bible, or a part thereof.

There’s something laudable in this: stating that these truths are the ultimate and unchanging truths of who I am.  Yet I also wonder if they represent a running away from our carnality, a running away from the things that Christ affirmed in the incarnation.  I wonder too whether tattoos like these — and all tattoos — might sometimes work like frosting upon a store window — presenting a surface that seeks not to externalize but to conceal what lies within.  Does the person who stamps “God’s Son” upon his skin really believe it?

Manners Sliding Down South

Terry Mattingly reflects on a New York Times piece on the decline of manners in their “last bastion,” the South. Terry is something of a guru when it comes to journalism and religion, and he finds the religious element (unsurprisingly) lacking from the tale the New York Times tells.  Here is his conclusion.

Clearly, the Old South contained lots and lots of religion (and politeness) that hid ugliness and sin. That’s a given.

But the flip side is true, as well. There was sincere respect, dignity and justice in parts of that culture and much of it centered on religious values and people of faith — black and white. There were people who were polite to hide things. There were also people who were polite and kind because they believed that was the right way to live. Some of these people were secular. Many, many of them — black and white — were people of faith. Life was far than perfect, but they could sing “Bless be the Ties that Bind” (even if most of their churches tragically remained segregated).

So the New South may be less polite, teaming with people who have no manners. That is a secular story and that is also a religious story. In this case, guess which one got written, to the exclusion of the other?

I must say that one part of Southern culture that I’ve most enjoyed since moving down from Boston 18 months ago is the emphasis on mannered respect for one another.  I actually enjoy referring to people as “sir” and “ma’am,” and I plan to teach my daughter to show such respect.

Read the whole thing at GetReligion.