Invisible at Church

I've been skipping church a lot, and finally a friend called me out on it.  I'd been waiting for someone to do so, which is exactly the sort of loser-move I side-eyed when I used to be an insider.  "Well, if they'd just come up to us," I would say, "We would totally invite them in and be nice."  True!  And it is undoubtedly unfair to ask people to be responsible for the emotional well-being of others.  But sometimes people are desperately unsure of themselves and need the validation that someone noticed they were gone and wish it hadn't been so.

That was a long preamble to the fact that:  I went to church today.  And I wish I hadn't.

It was Father's Day, which is never my favorite holiday.  Same for Mother's Day when there is blanket celebration with no acknowledgement of potential pain (either from one's own parents or from not being a parent oneself).  So there was the requisite adorable video and honoring of fathers.  There was a quote from Martin Luther about how we ought to be grateful for our parents because they fed us instead of letting us die.  All true, I suppose, but a single throw-away line about, "If you need to work through your family's dysfunction, go see a counselor," did little to honor the pain that I imagine at least 40% of the congregation felt.  Fathers, man.  They do a number on people.  Sometimes it's "simply" lack of time or affection, and that's enough to screw someone up.  But I've been a counselor for all of five months, and already I'm realizing how terrifyingly common it is for fathers to verbally, emotionally, physically, and emotionally abuse their children.  Handwaving that fact away with a "thank God for your parents" felt very irresponsible.

But I expected that.  What I didn't expect was a sermon based on the fact that humans bear God's image most fully in the family.  There were, like, maybe a few sentences about how the Church is a family, but mostly even that was in the context of using the Church to bolster your own family unit. 

As soon as it was said, my face shut down, my body turned in on itself, and I felt emotions crawling up my throat.  Honestly, I don't even care that I disagree with that interpretation of Genesis 1:26-28.  I personally believe that we bear God's image as individuals in relationships, but that there is no premium on marriage or parenthood as the relationship par excellence.  And I believe that multiplying to fill and subdue the earth includes, but is not limited to, physical reproduction.  But whatever.  That was not the message being taught today.  I could maybe have handled hearing that the family is the best way to represent God if even once the message had been directed to singles.  "What about us?" I thought.  "We're stuck with being sub-par image bearers.  What do we do with that?"  Hearing a callous "You just have to wait until you're married," would have pissed me off, but it would have been better than what actually happened, which is that myself and other singles (and the divorced and widowed and childless) were simply erased. 

It got worse, of course.  Because eventually we were addressed, in the form of a survey the entire congregation filled out after the sermon so that the church could better serve us.  Nice thought, and there was even one-fourth of the page devoted to singles.  There were sliding scales that asked if we thought God was using our singleness to sanctify and mature us, and I heavily circled the highest number in an attempt to prove my marital status doesn't affect my relationship with God.  Then there were a couple yes/no questions.  Two of the three were, "Are you saving sex for marriage?" and "Are you doing what you can to hold high the idea of marriage?"  Wonderful, wonderful.  My existence is summarily described by what I cannot do and by aspiring to that which I am not.  My singleness is the absence of.

To drive home the point, today was the Sunday when people with birthdays or anniversaries in the current month go forward to be acknowledged and prayed over.  I normally love this, because I really do have a high view of marriage.  But after forty minutes of being told over and over that this is ideal (and implicitly, you, Tricia, are not ideal), it hurt to hear one last time, "Congratulations to these couples who are exhibiting the truth that marriage is the place where people best bear God's image!"  I wanted to scream, "What about Jesus?  What about Paul?  What about that pesky verse that says it is better to be single than to be married?  Why is this not a nuanced conversation!?  Why do I feel like I don't exist?"

Instead, I practically ran to my car, throwing sunglasses on to cover the tears in my eyes.  As the car door slammed shut behind me, I instantly began sobbing and didn't stop until I got home.  Part of me sank into the desperate desire to be married and have kids--to be normal, to be the focus of the sermon, to be heard and valued in conservative evangelical culture.  I just wanted to fit in.  Another righteously angry part of me wanted to stay single forever, because I'm scared that if I ever do get married and have kids, I will be awash in relief at having arrived, and I'll blissfully forget the other singles who will still be ignored and undervalued.  I hope I will not be that way, but I've seen how the glow of being an insider can make me oblivious to those on the outside.

I don't mean to bash on my church family or my pastor.  I love my church to pieces, and I think this hit me so hard because I have such high standards.  They've been very nuanced and balanced and thoughtful in the past, and I'm sure they will be again in the future.  But today hurt.

Maleficent Movie Review

SO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD.  Don't read if you don't want to know literally every major plot point.

I was interested in seeing Maleficent, but I hadn't actually thought to see it in theaters until a friend asked to see a movie and I thought, "Why not?"  I was so ignorant.  Maleficent blew me away with all the usually awesome movie stuff--excellent acting (Angelina Jolie is magnificent) and breath-taking fantasy landscapes and creatures.  But what solidified my love for the film was its beautiful feminist messages.

For starters, it is an undeniably female-driven movie.  Maleficent and Aurora are the center of everything.  The three fairies provide comic relief and a significant amount of screen time.  There are three male characters to round things out--men to round things out!  One as the sidekick to a female!  Oh my gosh, what a wonderful thing to see women as the stars of a fantasy epic, living adventurous stories and making terrible and wonderful decisions.

Second, Maleficent continues what Frozen began:  the assertion that love comes in many forms, and that female love relationships are just as strong as male-female romantic ones.  (It also continues a hesitancy to rely on the rape-like "true love's kiss" while a person is unconscious.  I adored Prince Philip saying, "I don't feel right about this!  I barely know her!" when the fairies urge him to kiss the sleeping Aurora.)  But he does kiss her, and nothing happens.  She's still asleep.  And man, oh man, then Maleficent steps out, apologizes and cries and repents; she kisses the princess whom she loves and cares for, AND SLEEPING BEAUTY AWAKES.  True love's kiss is one woman caring for another.

And most importantly, I was completely surprised by the entire plot.  Maleficent is essentially a rape allegory.  The young carefree fairy befriends a human boy.  She thinks she loves him and she trusts that he loves her back.  Years later, out of greed and ambition, he drugs her so that she falls asleep, physically violates her, taking something of hers without her permission, and when she wakes alone, she howls in physical and emotional agony.  Dear God, that scene was crazy painful.

Seeing the action as rape makes the movie so incredibly powerful.  Her vengeance is understandable.  I rooted for her to make the guy crawl.  Her turn to darkness is a bandage for her pain.  I was behind her 100%, even though I was uncomfortably aware that she was acting the villain.

But it doesn't stop there!  Maleficent learns to love again, albeit by loving the child she cursed.  She saves the princess, risking her life in the process.  And then love saves her, quite literally.  The child she loves frees the wings that had been ripped from her, and in a burst of bright light, they reattach and Maleficent is whole again. 

There is still, however, that pesky king rapist.  He attacks her in exactly the way he knows will hurt her, and clings to her as she tries to fly away.  I'm entirely sure that the fight scene at the end was probably nothing overwhelming or particularly epic.  But seeing it as an abuser and a rapist attacking his victim made me so uncomfortable.  I was cringing at the screen the whole time.  I honestly didn't know what would happen, what I even wanted to happen.  Should she kill him?  YES, I WANT JUSTICE.  But that would turn her into the villain we assumed she was.  In the end, she breathes deeply and says, "It is over," releasing him and turning away.  She chose FORGIVENESS.  Not in like, the way where everything is okay.  But in the real forgiveness way, where she chooses not to let him have a hold on her anymore, where the victim says, "I will not let you make me less than I am."  It is SO AWESOME.  Of course, because justice is still demanded, he throws them both off the castle walls.  He, being a terrible rapist, falls to his death.  She, being a redeemed survivor with returned wings, flies away.  And it is soul-wrenchingly beautiful.

I loved this movie.  I loved it so hard, and I want to make everyone in the world see it.  I want people to empathize with the victims of assault, to despise those who violate others, to learn the painful lessons of forgiveness and loving again.  This movie was my everything!