My secret love affair with Mike Huckabee is over. Let's be clear. As an out and proud secular progressive, I would have to meet Jesus Christ his own bad self, (at Starbucks, preferably, where we could have a proper chat), to ever consider voting for the charismatic former Southern Baptist minister. Still, I'll admit I had a soft spot for Huck, stemming directly from recent experience with another army of Southern Baptists who undeniably helped save my sanity. But now when I hear Huck talk about godifying the Constitution, I have to wonder if I sold out some of my principles in my travels with Baptists, seduced by their tremendous hospitality.
Some background: four years ago, I was a Manhattanite, Chardonnay-swilling cheese-eating surrender monkey, pro-choice, pro-gay rights, avid NPR listener, childless, unmarried but cohabitating, atheist, all-around liberal puke.
Four years later, the only swilling being done is in my toddler's sippy cup. I had gotten pregnant, gotten married (in that order), and moved to a relentlessly dreary exurb. But nothing else had changed. I was the same godless uber-liberal I had always been.
The problem: I was crushingly lonely. After a decade of working in a fast-paced, curse-filled newsroom, I was desperate for company, small-talk. I talked to everyone I met in the exurb. I would have talked to a dog if I thought it might bark back.
One day a fellow stay-at-home mom mentioned programs at a Baptist Church. Southern Baptists. I immediately thought of what my media friends (almost entirely godless) and my gay BFF David would think: "Linda, at a Baptist Church?" Which is, by the way, what they all said. But this mom said, "I'm Jewish, and I love it." Loneliness is a powerful motivator, and within days I was part of two weekly parenting programs at the church.
At the church, I gravitated to an ethereal South African with a glowingly warm demeanor. As I would learn later, believers might say she has the "light of the Lord" in her eyes. I thought she was just plain nice. They were all nice. But I was an impostor, there's no way around it. How could tell her I was an atheist? With the South African, at first, I avoided the "G" word totally, and talked about, say, this great South African restaurant in Brooklyn, runaway inflation in Zimbabwe. She spoke openly about her faith, but never pushed it on me.
As I spent more time among the believers, I arrived at an unavoidable truth: they were better than me in some crucial ways. They put themselves out there, asking after me when I looked down, which was often. They didn't gossip about each other (a church rule). They cared deeply about global poverty, and unlike myself, they actually did something about it. They were striving to be great parents.
But there were moments of cognitive dissonance for this hardened liberal. At Christmas, we gathered toys to send to Africa and I asked "how does this work exactly?' I was told that they went through Franklin Graham's organization, Graham being the son of Billy who has said disturbing things about Islam. The kids who got the boxes were told that they came from Christians, and, if I recall correctly, a prayer book was included. Did the gift come with the attendant religious strings attached? Did that matter? A kid with nothing was receiving perhaps the only present of his or her lifetime.
Then later in the year, I was inspired to donate to young unwed mothers, and I then heard that part of the goal was to support women who had made the choice to keep their babies. Would they support a desperate woman who didn't make that same choice?
The truth was I never, ever heard a disparaging word at the church about gay people, those who got divorces, or even abortions for that matter. Instead, it was about supporting people, regardless of faith or circumstance. And I got the message. I put aside old baggage and got back in touch with a relative who was thrilled to hear from me. I began engaging more with my friends. I was reminded that my role as a parent was to raise an independent adult, not make a friend.
But now it's time to elect a president. I've moved away from the relentlessly dreary suburb and so I haven't been able to examine the political mood at the church. I'm guessing, though, that my old friends will surely vote against the very rights I hold dear: abortion rights, gay marriage rights, separation of church and state.
And yet, I know if anything terrible happens to me, I will have about 30 Baptist on my doorstep the next day. I have abundant faith in that, at least, in them, if not God. The question for you other secular progressives out there: would you open the door? Did I sell out? Was I using them? I would love to hear your feedback.
Follow Linda Keenan on Twitter: www.twitter.com/suburgatory
This whole family had the "light of the Lord" in their eyes and they were all very nice. They were all active and enthusiastic volunteers and all were dedicated Baptists. I honestly can't think of a kinder family but their values and my values aren't even close. We both believe in charity and honesty and raising our children right but in their eyes, I'll be in hell while they'll be raised up to heaven. I'm kinda glad I don't share those values.
Liberal puke?
I know part of that is tongue in cheek but it sounds as though you have a lot of disdain for who you were/are.
I'm pro-choice, in favour of gay rights (as well as human rights and equality for women) and my politics are socialist but I also spend a lot of time volunteering. The two things aren't mutually exclusive. Being part of my community and giving is as much a part of me as my political activity is.
Way back when I had my first child, I had planned to continue working but it turned out there's a primal kind of pain when you leave your child that transcends common sense so we gave up our house in the city and moved to a small town where I literally didn't know a soul so I could give up my pay without a lot of financial pain. My son was 18 months old and not much company and hubby was driving two hours a day to and from his job so we almost never saw each other more than a few hours. I joined a mom and me program but it didn't give me the satisfaction I needed so I formed a group for new moms who wanted to be involved in the community. We provided babysitting for each other .. half the group would stay and sit while half went to a political or volunteer activity. I gained exactly what you did but I also validated everything I believed in. I could (did) talk about my passion for keeping our Planned Parenthood office thriving and I could introduce our group to my wonderful cousin who is most obviously gay. I was free to be myself and those amazing women who shared that time with me are still my friends and, like you, I have 30 friends who would rush to my aid if anything were to happen.
I think we all look for common denominators in our lives. Becoming a mother, and a stay-at-home mother at that, puts you into new territory that at first feels very strange. Our old friends are still there, but they aren't the ones who've changed, it's us (mothers.) New routines become the norm, as opposed to a carefree, "do what I want when I want to do it" lifestyle. This isn't to imply you lived an overly hedonistic lifestyle previously. It reflects the contrast in lifestyles that nine months of pregnancy and planning cannot prepare one for.
Instead of falling headlong into depression over the change in your lifestyle, you sought out new companionship and it just happened to be with the local Baptist group. It sounds like you found something in common at the church's parenting meetings. Couple that with a journalist's avocational "need to know" and I see it as perfectly logical that you would choose to spend time with the Baptists.
I don't think you were using them at all; you probably gave them something back (you didn't mention the sharing during the parenting meetings.) You ended up learning some things about the positive aspects of religion, e.g. "Love thy neighbor as you would love yourself." Reaching out first to those we feel have harmed us, or vice versa, is walking the talk. Plus, you also saw some of the moral strings that religion places on others. It's similar to what the Bush admin has demanded of third world countries who accept money from the U.S. - no abortions, teach sexual abstinence, etc. It's emotional bribery, a "my way, or the highway" attitude towards the most vulnerable people in society who need our help, wherever they are.
It's no wonder so many Americans are afraid of "the other." To anyone who doubts your motivation, I say at least you took the step towards understanding the other, in this case, the Baptists.
Thanks for sharing.
“ People need to differentiate what separates us (beliefs, opinions, loyalties, religious affiliations) and what unites us (our humanity, our love for each other and for the planet).â€
Religious affiliation can unite large groups (tribes) which could be good. But more often than not there are other uniting factors like fear and hate.
I have a saying.†Nothing unities a group of people easier than a common thing to hate.â€
So their preachers and media (Rush, Fox) give them something to hate, Liberals, Lefties, Gays, Scientists, Commies and on and on. Finding unity and love through unity and humanity is much harder and a few religious folk do find it but no gods are needed. Most choose the easy path.
“No the Dark side is not more powerful. Quicker,, easier it is.†Master Yoda.
GWW
You said you avoided talking about God and never said if you told them you were an atheist.
I would be curious to know. If not, try doing just that, tell’m you’re an atheist and bring your gay friend to a church function.
GWW
So if they didn't push their beliefs on you, that is interesting to me.
I think that what is important here is that if you like community, keep your politics close to your chest unless called to action by something deserving.
Personally, I am the kind of guy that throws the whole mess together... I see Christians and Jews and Muslims as disingenous because they are polarized against each other and by participating in Christian religion I am addimg my weight to a centuries old blood feud. So the bottom line is that if you are a Christian, Jew or Muslim, I am probably not going to like you regardless of how nice you are. I see it as all part of the machine that supports religion as the most divisive and deadly subject on the planet and that is something that I don't want anything to do with.
Good luck sorting it out... I like to keep it simple. If you are a Baptist, you are a theocrat and against women's rights, against gay rights, and speak to divisive and destructive goals... I don't care how many nights you spend coaching softball or doing charity work... and I don't want anything to do with you..But that is a little radical for some... yet, I get this sense of a sort of Stockholm Syndrome from your story - by associating you are lulled into acceptance but then find yourself challenged greatly when you think about it.....