Against Evangelical Victim Culture (Stop Blaming Josh Harris for Your Problems)

I want to wrap up by making a difficult-to-prove claim of my own. But I think I’ve gathered enough evidence to support it by now. I want to suggest that the unexamined motive behind all of these tendencies isn’t a real antipathy toward Josh Harris or promise rings, or even an actual sense of deprivation or psychological damage at having been encouraged to “kiss dating goodbye.” Rather, I think most of it boils down to fashion–to the the assumption that because something is gawky and reeks of the nineties and has a guy in a fedora on the cover, it must be wrong, evil, bungled, and in need of total repudiation.

Part of this is human nature. We want to show how mature and avant garde we are, so we mercilessly roast everything that represents prior stages of life. I like to call this “Barneyphobia,” after the inexplicable and outspoken loathing that grips kindergartners upon finding out that having “matured past” the once-beloved purple dinosaur translates to social capital. Being a contrarian is cool, and even ex-homeschoolers enjoy the rush that comes from shocking their conservative parents by chucking Josh Harris and getting a Harry Potter tattoo (I’m only half joking).

But part of it is also the spirit of our age. Victimhood is undeniably in vogue these days. And winning arguments means, to a great extent, proving that you’re more oppressed and damaged than the other person. Millennials, especially, love this pastime, and in many ways they’ve become the bizarre mirror image of the peackocking jocks from generations past. Instead of boasting, “Look how strong/popular/dominant I am,” they boast, “Look how weak/unpopular/passive I am!” Christians pinning their relationship problems on Josh Harris, it seems to me, are competing in their own version of these victim olympics. And like most Christianized versions of secular things, the whole undertaking is pretty mediocre. Let’s just say they’re not winning victim gold.

With the necessary qualifiers for those who were actually abused or taught grave error, we are responsible for our own lives and relationships. Neither Josh Harris nor any nebulous “culture” is at fault for how we live, feel, or think twenty years later. And for those who read this entry and tell me I’m part of the problem, I have some advice: Don’t risk contributing anything of note, value, or significance to the next generation of Christians. Because when they grow up to be moral hipsters like you, they’ll take their own turn at the victim olympics. And you might just find yourself in Josh Harris’ shoes.