Year: 2015

On Sunday October 18th, the film  Mom’s Night Out was presented with a Christian entertainment Dove Award for most inspirational film. But this same film has earned a disappointing 18% on the professional film review website, Rotten Tomatoes.  This negative response was echoed by Steve Davis, a movie critic for the Austin Chronicle, who commented, Mom’s Night Out is a movie only a mother could love.’” A Dove award for being the most inspirational? And a movie only a mother could love? Something does not add up.

As a movie lover and writer, I groan when I watch an ill-timed fade or cliché – a deathbed conversion, an against-all-odds football triumph, or an unlikely marriage restoration. For the most part, movies like this do not succeed without being peddled to the Christian community. They end up in the deep recesses of Netflix, only to be viewed on nights when procrastination is at its peak.

Christian films often receive widespread promotion (and promotional praise) despite their lack of technical proficiency. And this occurs in the context of other artistic disciplines as well. Christian artists often get away with shoddy craftsmanship. And why? Because they claim the overriding superiority and importance of their message. This, they posit, compensates for their inadequate methodology.

In C. S. Lewis’ book Mere Christianity, he wrote this about the church, “I disliked very much their hymns, which I considered to be fifth-rate poems set to sixth-rate music.” I assume Lewis is not the only one who has sat in a church and wondered if a song could be any less musical. Lewis’s point here is that the craft is well below the world’s standard of excellence.

I suggest that Christians should seek to meet the world’s standard of excellence and advance beyond it. Martin Luther backs this point when he was presumed to have said this about vocation. Though it may not be from him, the sentiment holds true – “The maid who sweeps her kitchen is doing the will of God just as much as the monk who prays—not because she may sing a Christian hymn as she sweeps but because God loves clean floors. The Christian shoemaker does his Christian duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes, because God is interested in good craftsmanship.”

No one would buy a terrible shoe with a cross on it, so why do we buy terrible art with Christian messages? There is a solution. First, we need to start recognizing when art lacks craft. We must not be biased in our evaluation of art simply because it is ‘Christian.’ Even if the goal is spreading a Christian message, people outside the Christian realm will not understand bad craft. We need to meet people where they are and show them art they understand and can appreciate. That means that the Christian artist must be well educated and invested in his or her craft. Finally, we must be critical of the art, and never give it a pass. We should call bad craft for what it is, subpar and lazy.

As I stated at the beginning of the semester, I want The Star to serve as a platform for the sustained dialogue that is vital to any healthy and thriving community. Overall, Houghton has done remarkably well in this area, embodying both openness and receptivity even in the face of more controversial issues. In the spirit of this, The Star has decided to publish a series of editorials concerning the LGBTQ experiences of Houghton alumni.

These editorials are an opportunity for those who have been perhaps routinely unheard to add their voices to the campus dialogue.For some, these editorials may prove challenging, yet I want to emphasize that The Star is committed to maintaining not only a safe platform for disparate opinions to meet and perhaps clash, but an equal-opportunity platform as well. As always, I want to encourage you, my readers, to join in the conversation.

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The conversation at Houghton surrounding sexuality and the Community Covenant has been vigorous over the last few semesters. At times it has been constructive, and at other times it has been ineffective and even hurtful. This is to be expected in a community of roughly a thousand flawed peopleNonetheless, if we are to make progress as a community in how we talk about LGBTQ sexualities and gender identities, we must remember that behind the issues are real, flesh-and-blood people with feelings.

That is the task of this series: putting faces to the issues. Every two weeks, we will hear from a Houghton alumnus on what it meant for them to be LGBTQ during their time here. These men and women have shared their stories because they care about this community-and hope to see it become a place where everyone can thrive.

That being said, allow me to commence this series with my own story.

I did not admit to anyone that I am gay until I was 17 years old, halfway through my first semester at Houghton College. The months after that first confession were filled with anxiety, because I knew that by and large my academic and faith community at Houghton would not accept this part of me. I believe the dissonance which many in the Houghton community perceive between Christianity and LGBTQ sexualities is perpetuated by inaccurate language, such as in the Houghton College Community Covenant.

I think most of us, whether we are gay, straight, bisexual, transgender, queer, or anywhere in between, can agree that we are whole human beings with many complex layers fully known only by our Creator. As emerging adults, we realize that we are more than our sexualities. While we may feel confident or insecure about this aspect of ourselves, when it comes down to it, sexuality is as matter of fact as brown hair or glasses. Our sexualities are just as intimately understood and loved by the Creator as is every other aspect of our being.

Yet, I don’t think that the Community Covenant we all signed as first year students fully reflects that truth when it addresses sexuality. The Community Covenant’s only words addressing people like me are: “We believe that Scripture clearly prohibits certain acts… (including premarital sex, adultery and homosexual behavior)”.

In essence, the community I am a part of has responded to me with “don’t.” Sometimes this community has responded to me with “EEEEWWW”, “dyke”, and “are you still a Christian?”

           We can assume that the “straightforward” meaning of the Covenant language is “don’t have sex with a person of your sex or gender identity.” But this presents problems. Every single day on this campus I and other LGBTQ students are having our full personhood reduced. Our sexual and gender identities are being unfairly reduced to sex acts, to be affirmed or forbidden.

The Community Covenant recognizes the beauty of heterosexual romance (minus extra-marital sex acts) because it affirms the full personhood of straight couples. I hope that soon the Houghton community will be ready to embrace the humanity of same-sex couples, without feeling the need to sexualize them. (A good number of us do strive to remain chaste until marriage, which is more than I can say of many straight couples who have passed through this campus.)

I am not advocating a change in the language of the Covenant because I want to feel secure in holding a romantic partner’s hand on the quad or open up about a girlfriend, though that would be nice. I am advocating a change because I desperately want all current and incoming students to feel safe, affirmed, and whole on this campus. I want first year students to be open about their authentic selves without having to fear questioning or isolation. I want this community to be able to separate sexuality and romance from sex acts, and sex acts from debauchery.

Therefore, as the Community Covenant issue continues to be debated, remember this: LGBTQ students are not an issue that one must form “right” opinions about. We are children of God, striving to “do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly”-just like other Houghton students.

I grew up going to a small public school: this meant that though I grew up with close friends who shared similar values, I also grew up with many people who shared quite different values. It was difficult at times, but more than anything, this childhood environment challenged me daily to learn from, and interact with, people different than myself.

Since coming to college I have comfortably settled into a demographic of like-minded people: Houghton students, are, for the most part, a homogeneous group of Christian believers somewhere in their late teens to early twenties. Yes, our outlooks do differ, but very seldom are these differences extreme. Until recently, besides my annual summer night at the Allegany County Fair, I had not spent much time outside of Houghton.

However, this past summer working far from home, I was, for the first time in my life, divorced from all familiar faces and in a place where Christianity (along with every other faith) was among a small minority of co-workers. I was immersed in a diverse employee demographic: people varied greatly in ages, in work- and life- experience, were from all over the world and from almost every type of background. It sounds strange, but in the mountains of Montana I found myself in “culture shock”- where were ‘my people?’ Where were the professing believers and the academic enthusiasts?

At first this culture shock was overwhelming. I thought about leaving early: yet, I quickly found relief, because I realized this group of diverse people were, perhaps, the most welcoming group of individuals I had ever been among. By and large, we, co-workers, knew each other’s problems, we knew each other’s opinions, and for all our differences, we accepted each other. Sure, I did not share many values with most co-workers. There were numerous times I still felt uncomfortable, but I learned to both relate to people with what was shared and, as cliché as it sounds, to appreciate others for our differences.

In John Caputo’s book, What Would Jesus Deconstruct? he discusses philosopher Jacques Derrida’s reflections on the concept of hospitality. Hospitality, in general terms, is the welcoming of the Other, of the different individual, into the same, into one’s own ‘circle of concern’ as philosopher Martha Nussbaum would say. In a polarized society, where we have access to what we want when we want, a message of hospitality is more necessary than ever. Anyone can click to the news website they want or the TV show they prefer without a second thought. No need to go outside what is comfortable.

Therefore, in relation to our current age, Caputo not only clarifies Derrida’s ideas, but brings them into Christian conversation by stating that in order for someone to be hospitable no actual ‘invitation’ will exist, since everyone- neighbor or stranger, friend or enemy- will be welcome. This understanding, of course, brings quite a bit of risk into play: how can we ever be safe from inviting someone or something harmful in? The answer is simple and one Christians may often shy away from: if one eliminates risk, then hospitality is no longer possible. It is simple, with hospitality comes risk.

However, this truth should not frighten Christians away from practices of hospitality. Caputo elaborates, “There is always risk in everything worthwhile” (77).  There is something worthwhile in taking a chance and learning to spend time with people different than oneself. The mystery of the unknown can cause one to gain greater understanding, to grow, to learn, and ultimately to strive for further hospitality.

Inevitably, everyone will fail when it comes to being hospitable for, as we all know, no one is perfect. However, just as one strives for unconditional love, one should strive for hospitality.

To relate Caputo’s points back to my own personal experience, when I was younger I could have refused to go to public school. This summer I could have decided to come home early. However, I didn’t. And I think that for all the challenges I faced, both my decisions to stay, to learn and to grow in discourse with the Other were powerful, life-changing, experiences.

Most of you reading this probably know the parable of Luke 14. The rich man invites the poor, the lame, the criminal, into his house for a Banquet feast.  As followers of Christ we, likewise, should invite the Other into our lives. Or, if we feel so inclined, we should go out and seek experience with the Other.

For each individual, being hospitable and reaching out to the Other may vary; on our campus, it may challenge an individual to commune with a member of the opposite political party, a member of the L.I.F.E. Club, or a member of the LGBTQ community. Essentially, people must stop viewing those different as only separate and/or harmful- people deserve  attention, love, respect, and hospitality. Therefore, I encourage you to take a chance and see what happens when you decide to chase after that crazy concept of hospitality and venture beyond the limits of the familiar.