This article in the San Francisco Chronicle is a week old, and I should've commented on it sooner — but then I've been AWOL for a week, and I should've commented on a lot of things sooner.
Here's the scenario, ably summarized by the Chronicle's Joe Garofoli:
More than 25,000 evangelical Christian youth landed Friday in San Francisco for a two-day
rally at AT&T Park against "the virtue terrorism" of popular culture, and they were greeted by an official city condemnation and a clutch of protesters who said their event amounted to a "fascist mega-pep rally.""Battle Cry for a Generation" is led by a 44-year-old Concord native, Ron Luce, who wants "God's instruction book" to guide young people away from the corrupting influence of popular culture.
Luce, whose Teen Mania organization is based in Texas, kicked off a three-city "reverse rebellion" tour Friday night intended to counter a popular culture that he says glamorizes violence and sex. The $55 advance tickets for two days of musical performances and speeches were sold out, but walk-up admission was available for $199.
Five reactions:
1. Enough with the martial metaphors.
The "spiritual warfare" metaphor was once a good one. St. Paul used it well, as did John Bunyan. But overuse and misuse have long since corrupted this metaphor, devaluing its currency to cliche status. (When exactly the last nail was pounded into the coffin of this metaphor's utility is in dispute. Some say it was with the novels of Frank Peretti, while I argue it was the godawful 1987 Petra album, "This Means War!")
"This is more than a spiritual war," Luce said. "It's a culture war."
Military metaphors abound in Luce's descriptions of the struggle. He tells young people of how "an enemy has launched a brutal attack on them." At a pre-Battle Cry rally Friday afternoon on the steps of City Hall, Luce told his mostly teenage audience that "terrorists of a different kind" — advertisers — were targeting them and that they were "caught in the middle of the battle."
What was that again about glamorizing violence?
2. Stop pissing on trees.
The name "Battle Cry" — and especially the shameless, spiritualized dick-swinging of the "City Hall Rally" — has little to do with what St. Paul meant by "spiritual warfare." It is, instead, the latest example of all that the so-called "culture warriors" seem capable of: Marking their territory by pissing on trees.
From the bogus "War on Christmas" to the fetishistic devotion to Ten Commandments markers, this territory-marking has become an obsession for many of the alleged followers of Christ. "They'll know we are Christians by our love" apparently proved too difficult, so instead we've settled for "They'll know we are Christians by our bullying dominance of the public square."
Stop it. Just stop. Stop pissing on trees. Stop "reclaiming America for Christ." Christ already has a kingdom, an upside-down, mustard-seed kingdom without a flag. And while you people are so busy trying to create an alternative kingdom called "Christian America," the prostitutes and tax collectors and Samaritans are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. And so are a lot of those couples who got married there at City Hall.
3. Luce's message isn't all bad.
Much of what Ron Luce's "Teen Mania Ministries" has to say is pretty awful. Mainly, it's a condemnation of Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll. This is a reductive and uninspiring message.
It's reductive partly because it presents such a naive and stunted notion of what constitutes evil. If SD&RR really is the apotheosis of evil, then Mick Jagger really is the Prince of Darkness — a greater threat to humanity and a greater source of pain than Osama bin Laden, or Kim Jong Il, or Ken Lay or any other predatory purveyor of pain and injustice. The confusion here seems to be mistaking vice (and an expansive understanding of vice, at that) with genuine evil. Vice has to do with weakness; evil has to do with injustice. The Teen Mania obsession with SD&RR winds up declaring "war" on weakness while ignoring injustice. That's not good. Nor is it compatible with Christianity.
It's also reductive because it presents a naive and stunted notion of what constitutes good. Virtue winds up consisting entirely of avoiding vice — that is to say, avoiding Sex, Drugs and (secular) Rock & Roll. This is, again, an uninspiring vision of the good life.
And because this vision is so uninspiring, Teen Mania can't hope to be effective in some of it's worthier stated goals, such as reducing teen suicide. I'm not a fan of groups that use a teen suicide "crisis" as a bogeyman, citing trumped-up statistics for fundraising/grant-writing fodder. But then I'm certainly not in favor of teen suicide, either. I just think Teen Mania's efforts against it are about as likely to succeed as that Big Fun song in Heathers, "Teen Suicide: Don't Do It."
But having said all that, I was a bit intrigued and encouraged to read that Luce wants "to guide young people away from the corrupting influence of popular culture," and particularly away from "a corporate culture that spends millions trying to woo the under-21 crowd."
There's a germ of something good there, maybe even a mustard seed. That critique of "a corporate culture" sounds almost like something from Naomi Klein's No Logo.
Luce, unfortunately, doesn't seem able to follow the trajectory of this critique. He's not interested in "No Logo," he's interested in a New Logo. He wants Jesus to be the corporate logo these kids choose.
It pains me to have to write this sentence, but here it is: Jesus is not a logo.
4. These 25,000 kids are not all the same.
Here's the outlook of one participant:
Same-sex marriage "is another sign of the end of times," said Sherilyn David, referring to the apocalypse that some fundamentalist Christians believe is foretold in Scripture. The 22-year-old San Jose administrative assistant came to Battle Cry with 15 other young Christians on Friday and will be joined by 60 other friends Saturday.
If it's a sign of the End Times, then why is Ms. David opposing it? Doesn't she want Jesus to come back? I don't share David's apocalyptic theology, but if I did, I would have to point out that nowhere in Scripture is same-sex marriage presented as a "sign of the end of times." Earthquakes, famine, wars and rumors of war, yes. Happy couples on the steps of City Hall in San Francisco, no.
But where Ms. David and her 60 friends clearly seem to be motivated by the pissing-on-trees aspects of "Battle Cry," other participants seem to have other motivations:
Christian Gallion, a 15-year-old in town with his Assembly of God youth group from Humboldt County, shrugged off being called "fascists" by counterdemonstrators.
"It doesn't bother me," Gallion said. "It's a beautiful city, and we don't have anything against the protesters."
His youth pastor had no interest in engaging in political debates.
"I'm not here to hate anybody," Scott Thompson said. "This isn't about Bush or gays or anything other than being here to worship together."
If one's only motivation is "to worship together," then the steps of City Hall really isn't the most appropriate place to gather. So Scott Thompson (not that one, obviously) and the good kids in his A of G youth group are being used. Their stated desire "to worship together" wound up getting them recruited into "a culture war" that is, in fact, all about Bush and gays.
But there is a difference between Luce's zealous footsoldiers, like Ms. David, and his unwitting conscripts, like Thompson and Gallion. Counterprotesters, and any other efforts to counter efforts like Battle Cry, should keep this difference in mind.
5. If you're an evangelical teen, this ain't a bad deal.
If you're growing up in the evangelical subculture, there aren't a lot of events you'll be allowed to attend, but this is one of them. And the bottom line here is this: $55 for two days in San Francisco is a good deal.
That $55 includes concert tickets. More importantly, it also includes two days away from home. In San Francisco. And more than likely it also includes a longish bus or van ride, possibly in the dark, with the girls from the youth group. That may amount to little more than surreptitious hand-holding, but don't knock it. For an evangelical teenager, a bit of surreptitious hand-holding on the church bus may amount to the high point of the school year. (And yes, as you've probably guessed, I'm speaking from experience. In 1985 I was far less excited by the prospect of seeing David Meece in concert at the Trenton War Memorial than I was by the prospect of two hours round-trip sitting next to Cindy Penrose. )
As for the concerts themselves, Toby Mac is actually better than you'd think, and Delirious wasn't unbearable in concert. I can't speak for the others.
But most evangelical teens have learned to cope with the embarrassments of CCM. They've learned that there's still fun to be had even at the lamest of concerts. And they've learned to smile in apparent sincerity when their Peter-Pan-complex-addled youth minister says, "Dude, we're rockin' for Jesus!" during the middle of a competent-but-soulless set by the latest subcultural knockoff of Matchbox 20. Such playing along is essential if one hopes to slip off to wherever one might slip off to during the keynote speakers that follow the concert.
So the downside: $55, the excruciating experience of the City Hall "rally," a concert lineup that makes "Creation" look hip, and a series of sermons in which you will again be urged to re-re-re-re-re– "dedicate your life to Christ" — with little indication as to what that actually might mean or why it might be a good thing. The upside: two days away from home; San Francisco in the spring; the glorious potential, however slight in reality, of that bus ride. On balance, not a bad deal for an evangelical teenager.
Not all of the 25,000 teens who took part in the San Francisco "Battle Cry" were thinking of the event in these terms. But, trust me, at least 10,000 of them were. Counterprotesters should also keep that in mind.