Years before Trump descended his golden parachute & QAnon hit the scene, I read a piece in the NYTimes (I think by David Brooks but not sure) discussing something about red state voters that I don’t exactly recall. Surrounded by these voters in the Midwest where I lived, I commented that people needed to grasp the fact that the people in my area that I interacted with every day were total believers in the tropes that Dems were Satan worshipping child predators, pagan hoards bent on the destruction of Christianity. It wasn’t kayfabe to them, a word I didn’t know at the time, it was absolute reality and it was dangerous. My comment got several hundred likes and was a Times top comment for the day.
Unfortunately, enough people weren’t listening to those of us who saw this coming. We were considered alarmist.
I really appreciate this. I've spent months in a deeply sad state trying to understand what is happening on the Christian Right by looking in on Eric Metaxas's twitter account, reading Rod Dreher in American Conservative, and drinking the fresh glass of water that is David French. Myself, I "escaped" a fundamentalist Christian childhood by going on my own lifelong journey of questioning and discovery that has led me to Earth-based religion and a kind of unitarianism (though I am not a member of that church), after periods as a Lutheran and Episcopalian (which I may still be, I am open to it). Thing is, I completely get that religion is all about metaphor, grounded in myth. And yet, I cannot "quit" Jesus, in my heart. In that regard, I remain a Christian.--My own family was tragically sundered by Biblical literalism, as there was an epic split between my fundamentalist Christian grandfather and my rebellious mother. It led to family fracturing beyond the two of them. They could not find a common language that would enable them to continue to be family even with deeply different beliefs. I've spent my life trying to find it.--I find the literalism of much of Christianity to be maddening, because it is dishonest and willfully witless. And really dangerous. And dreary. However, it obviously accrues in some way to the people who stubbornly hold to it. I guess it gives them a feeling of superiority, like they are in a very small club of the special people, and secure, because they tell themselves for sure God is on their side (and it is very satisfying that He is not with the rest of us!). Probably there are some people, like my grandfather, who naively and sincerely believe it wholeheartedly though it makes no sense. They have to sacrifice even their relationships with their closest loved ones out of fear of the Almighty. In the end, they choose their own personal safety. I guess I'd rather go to Hell. But I mean that metaphorically! ;-) I do believe in Heaven (not a head thing, but a heart thing), and I hope I see all my own loved ones together one day, spiritually and emotionally healed, and looking back at the sad rifts between them and saying, "why did we do that? It was all so unnecessary. But here we are, together again, Hallelujah, praise God!" That is my hope and dream.
People in the Bonhoeffer community tried to work with Metaxas, kept space for him, maintained relationships in the hope that he might understand Bonhoeffer better, but he just shut the door on all of them. The most gracious scholars finally realized Metaxas had no interest in learning.
The way folks narrate themselves into biblical texts is dangerous in our time. If you believe God demands purity and commands slaughter in the pursuit of it, an act of murder becomes an act of piety and obedience. Great observations by Gregory Thornbury.
The Sacredness of Questioning Everything saved me. As a FEMALE ministering with a brain and the ability to just look around and ask questions, I was on the receiving end of the squash matches and I did not even realize I was in the ring! Jezebel. Divider. Disrupter. We love you, but your gifts are no longer welcome here. You will no longer be hearing from God for THIS congregation. We can't tell the truth because the weaker vessels could not handle it. Yeah, TSoQE helped me get my head back on my shoulders and gave me the courage to step away from the swinging club.
I am SO GLAD the other was retitled and released again. I KNEW IT!
I am so thankful for you and Sarah. I am 100% sure you are kinder than I am, but I, too am kind. I've been accused of unkindness by those who love and who don't love me because I spoke truth. Dearheart, you can NOT take labor and delivery photographs of the baby crowning and show them at work.
OH! Nobody told me! Thank you.
So much for male accountability groups. I asked his group WHY no one said anything to this beautiful young man? The accountability group of men significantly older all agreed that to tell him the truth about how he was being perceived at work would be unkind as it might hurt his feelings. Dearheart and I met for several weeks and discussed neurotypical protocol and expectations. Six months later he was promoted partly because I had been "unkind" and told him the truth.
Truth is not kind or unkind, it is. Sometimes it is hard. Always, it sets captives free.
Thank you for speaking truth in such a way that captives are set free.
Such helpful observations are found here. All this clarifies the disparity between those invested and ultra-serious about keeping up appearances/narratives and those who are committed to establishing/keeping earnest/honest conversation. As you have pointed out David, so much helpfulness can be found in "Finite & Infinite Games." It was a revelatory read for me as it shone a light (for the first time?) on my own motivations, fears, and struggles. At the same time, James Carse's little big book was the invitation to play that I've always secretly been comfortable doing. Wonderful job, Mr. Gregory Thornbury. May these less than self-evident truths shine a light on all our kayfabe.
This unites disparate strands of my upbringing. When you're growing up in the birthplace of Billy Graham and the home of Jim Crockett Promotions and his family run National Wrestling Alliance, the celebrities tended to be either involved in one of the 3 R's--racing, religion, or rasslin'. You really could run into a hungover Greg "The Hammer" Valentine or the American Dream, Dusty Rhodes in line for a breakfast biscuit at Hardee's on a Sunday morning. Ric Flair was holding court for the local segment at the Jerry Lewis Telethon. When I called to pledge $10, he took the order and printed my name on the envelope. I don't have the Nature Boy's autograph. I have him writing mine. Thanks to this razor sharp analysis, the light bulb finally went off. Dr. Thornbury allowed me to see how Franklin Graham combined two of Charlotte's principal exports into his own, nearly unparalleled brand of kayfabe.
I just ran across this blog post here in 2024.
Years before Trump descended his golden parachute & QAnon hit the scene, I read a piece in the NYTimes (I think by David Brooks but not sure) discussing something about red state voters that I don’t exactly recall. Surrounded by these voters in the Midwest where I lived, I commented that people needed to grasp the fact that the people in my area that I interacted with every day were total believers in the tropes that Dems were Satan worshipping child predators, pagan hoards bent on the destruction of Christianity. It wasn’t kayfabe to them, a word I didn’t know at the time, it was absolute reality and it was dangerous. My comment got several hundred likes and was a Times top comment for the day.
Unfortunately, enough people weren’t listening to those of us who saw this coming. We were considered alarmist.
Thank you for this. I can testify to its truth.
I believe a lot of us can. If you'd like to say more, please feel free.
I really appreciate this. I've spent months in a deeply sad state trying to understand what is happening on the Christian Right by looking in on Eric Metaxas's twitter account, reading Rod Dreher in American Conservative, and drinking the fresh glass of water that is David French. Myself, I "escaped" a fundamentalist Christian childhood by going on my own lifelong journey of questioning and discovery that has led me to Earth-based religion and a kind of unitarianism (though I am not a member of that church), after periods as a Lutheran and Episcopalian (which I may still be, I am open to it). Thing is, I completely get that religion is all about metaphor, grounded in myth. And yet, I cannot "quit" Jesus, in my heart. In that regard, I remain a Christian.--My own family was tragically sundered by Biblical literalism, as there was an epic split between my fundamentalist Christian grandfather and my rebellious mother. It led to family fracturing beyond the two of them. They could not find a common language that would enable them to continue to be family even with deeply different beliefs. I've spent my life trying to find it.--I find the literalism of much of Christianity to be maddening, because it is dishonest and willfully witless. And really dangerous. And dreary. However, it obviously accrues in some way to the people who stubbornly hold to it. I guess it gives them a feeling of superiority, like they are in a very small club of the special people, and secure, because they tell themselves for sure God is on their side (and it is very satisfying that He is not with the rest of us!). Probably there are some people, like my grandfather, who naively and sincerely believe it wholeheartedly though it makes no sense. They have to sacrifice even their relationships with their closest loved ones out of fear of the Almighty. In the end, they choose their own personal safety. I guess I'd rather go to Hell. But I mean that metaphorically! ;-) I do believe in Heaven (not a head thing, but a heart thing), and I hope I see all my own loved ones together one day, spiritually and emotionally healed, and looking back at the sad rifts between them and saying, "why did we do that? It was all so unnecessary. But here we are, together again, Hallelujah, praise God!" That is my hope and dream.
Maybe the Young Jackson Browne really was on to something:
Doctor My Eyes
Jackson Browne
Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
And the slow parade of fears without crying
Now I want to understand
I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good without hiding
You must help me if you can
Doctor, my eyes
Tell me what is wrong
Was I unwise to leave them open for so long?
'Cause I have wandered through this world
And as each moment has unfurled
I've been waiting to awaken from these dreams
People go just where they will
I never noticed them until I got this feeling
That it's later than it seems
Doctor, my eyes
Tell me what you see
I hear their cries
Just say if it's too late for me
Doctor, my eyes
They cannot see the sky
Is this the prize
For having learned how not to cry?
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Jackson Browne
Doctor My Eyes lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Red Brick Music Publishing
People in the Bonhoeffer community tried to work with Metaxas, kept space for him, maintained relationships in the hope that he might understand Bonhoeffer better, but he just shut the door on all of them. The most gracious scholars finally realized Metaxas had no interest in learning.
The way folks narrate themselves into biblical texts is dangerous in our time. If you believe God demands purity and commands slaughter in the pursuit of it, an act of murder becomes an act of piety and obedience. Great observations by Gregory Thornbury.
The Sacredness of Questioning Everything saved me. As a FEMALE ministering with a brain and the ability to just look around and ask questions, I was on the receiving end of the squash matches and I did not even realize I was in the ring! Jezebel. Divider. Disrupter. We love you, but your gifts are no longer welcome here. You will no longer be hearing from God for THIS congregation. We can't tell the truth because the weaker vessels could not handle it. Yeah, TSoQE helped me get my head back on my shoulders and gave me the courage to step away from the swinging club.
I am SO GLAD the other was retitled and released again. I KNEW IT!
I am so thankful for you and Sarah. I am 100% sure you are kinder than I am, but I, too am kind. I've been accused of unkindness by those who love and who don't love me because I spoke truth. Dearheart, you can NOT take labor and delivery photographs of the baby crowning and show them at work.
OH! Nobody told me! Thank you.
So much for male accountability groups. I asked his group WHY no one said anything to this beautiful young man? The accountability group of men significantly older all agreed that to tell him the truth about how he was being perceived at work would be unkind as it might hurt his feelings. Dearheart and I met for several weeks and discussed neurotypical protocol and expectations. Six months later he was promoted partly because I had been "unkind" and told him the truth.
Truth is not kind or unkind, it is. Sometimes it is hard. Always, it sets captives free.
Thank you for speaking truth in such a way that captives are set free.
Such helpful observations are found here. All this clarifies the disparity between those invested and ultra-serious about keeping up appearances/narratives and those who are committed to establishing/keeping earnest/honest conversation. As you have pointed out David, so much helpfulness can be found in "Finite & Infinite Games." It was a revelatory read for me as it shone a light (for the first time?) on my own motivations, fears, and struggles. At the same time, James Carse's little big book was the invitation to play that I've always secretly been comfortable doing. Wonderful job, Mr. Gregory Thornbury. May these less than self-evident truths shine a light on all our kayfabe.
This unites disparate strands of my upbringing. When you're growing up in the birthplace of Billy Graham and the home of Jim Crockett Promotions and his family run National Wrestling Alliance, the celebrities tended to be either involved in one of the 3 R's--racing, religion, or rasslin'. You really could run into a hungover Greg "The Hammer" Valentine or the American Dream, Dusty Rhodes in line for a breakfast biscuit at Hardee's on a Sunday morning. Ric Flair was holding court for the local segment at the Jerry Lewis Telethon. When I called to pledge $10, he took the order and printed my name on the envelope. I don't have the Nature Boy's autograph. I have him writing mine. Thanks to this razor sharp analysis, the light bulb finally went off. Dr. Thornbury allowed me to see how Franklin Graham combined two of Charlotte's principal exports into his own, nearly unparalleled brand of kayfabe.