“When we deny our stories, they define us. When we own them, we get to write the ending.”
- Brene Brown
Recently, I did something I haven’t done in years. I shared a controversial meme on social media that called out Evangelicals for their disordered attachment to subordinating women and girls. The meme was meant to be ironic, utilizing snarky humor to draw attention to a deeply serious problem. It was intended to make people think, to jolt them into reframing an issue on which they might be sleeping at the wheel.
Predictably, this didn’t go over well with some. I found myself arguing with a family member who accused me of hypocrisy, and then defending my choice to post this meme with a fellow Christian who was concerned that all I was accomplishing was to make Christians look bad, adding to the division that has been so rampant in recent years.
Eventually, I hid the post and comments because the conversation had devolved to a pointless level. I realized I didn’t have the energy or patience to continue to defend myself or to point out the perfectly good reasons I had for posting the meme in the first place. I let the controversial moment drop, but it wouldn’t drop me.
As I reflected on this incident for weeks afterward, I wondered about two emotions which continued to surface: helplessness and guilt.
Not only did I feel helpless to express my opinion, my pain, and my story, but I felt guilty for trying to do so in a way that was not palatable to people who wouldn’t be able to hear me anyway.
I was tied up in knots – not because I regretted sharing the meme or was uncertain about the message I was sending, but because incurious people who had already decided my message had no merit did not like my message.
You may need to read that last sentence again to understand the nonsensical nature of it.
When I kindly interrogated these feelings, I realized they were coming from a very old place within myself. In this place resides my early childhood conditioning in which I learned that it’s important not to name the reality of things which others do not wish to see. Naming reality often got me hurt as a child. Naming reality often got me bullied as a teen. Naming reality often created problems in my relationships as an adult, garnered suspicion from others, and labeled me as a troublemaker.
The thing is, when a person is afraid to name reality because they will be bullied, hurt, cast out, or silenced, that person is in an abusive relationship. And that’s why it’s so important for Christians to be able to name reality for themselves and to allow others to do the same. If we bully, cast out, or silence others because they are naming things we would prefer not to see, we are abusing one another in the name of Christ. I’m just as guilty of this as anyone else. And I’m not okay with that.
What does this kind of abuse look like?
You can’t say that or even think it because... It’s heresy. It’s divisive. It’s political. It’s progressive. It’s conservative. It’s a conspiracy theory. It’s socialist agenda. It’s un-American. It’s American nationalism. It’s not biblical. It’s not educated. It’s racist, sexist, or woke.
Your story or perspective can’t be true because... That’s not my experience. I’ve never seen that happen. You have a secret agenda. You want attention. You like to start trouble. I’ve been taught that isn’t true. You want power. You are never satisfied. You’re a mindless lemming. You’ve been brainwashed. You’re not perfect either, therefore you can’t be trusted.
In abusive communities, households and institutions, naming reality is not allowed. It’s not allowed because it has the potential to put stress on the system, to force change which is often unwanted by those who are comfortable with the status quo. But denying reality by refusing to gather all the available data from every contributor in the community, household, or institution leads to inaccurate mental maps. And inaccurate mental maps lead us to the same place inaccurate physical maps would lead us – nowhere near our destination. They may even lead to our ultimate demise.
In many Evangelical denominations, women are not allowed a voice or a vote in their governing church bodies. This means that they have literally no formal authority to chart the course of the churches they have founded, supported, and within which they’ve labored with the blood, sweat and tears of their lives. In any other sector of modern society, this would be illegal discrimination. Plenty of solid biblical scholars have produced thoughtful, rigorous research which shows this kind of discrimination is not reflective of the heart or notions of God. Yet, this vital information, and the powerful stories of women and girls who have suffered under the weight of female subordination, are unwelcomed, and ignored. They are shouted down, mocked, ridiculed, blacklisted, and forbidden to name reality.
So, in light of that, yeah. I posted that controversial meme.
As I reflect on all of this, the meme incident hits a little different. Perhaps the controversy didn’t lie in the irony, divisiveness, or “woke-ness” of the meme; instead, what was truly controversial was that no one cared enough to ask: what’s your why for posting this?
Maybe the tone of my delivery is far less important than the stakes of the issue. Perhaps we’ve grown weary of social justice warriors, victim mentalities, and folks always meddling with tradition. Yet, our discomfort or dislike does not mean there is no reality to be acknowledged here. We are the Body of Christ. We have all that we need within us to stand in the discomfort and to question our maps, and to welcome named realities which make us squirm but can also make our maps better, more accurate, more loving, more oriented toward our destination – which is Christ.
What realities do you need to name? What part of your story are you not owning? What people – who will not be willing to hear you anyway – are you afraid of offending or alienating?
Where are you denying the stories of others? What reality are you refusing to acknowledge because you’re afraid of where this new map might lead you?
All truth is God’s truth. Are you content with inaccurate maps which will never help you find the Truth?
As for me, I’m learning to live with the rejection that comes with naming uncomfortable realities. I’m realizing I need not worry so much about those who can’t (or won’t) hear me, who refuse to get curious, who lack questions and have only entrenched certainties.
I’m not a victim. I’m a pilgrim – map in hand, scanning the horizon, looking for other pilgrims with which I can compare and correct my map. We’ll encourage and nourish one another, and we’ll help each other get to our Beautiful Destination. There’s no time to bicker in the comments. We have an adventure before us.
I leave you with the beautiful Welcoming Prayer of Father Thomas Keating. May you welcome everything this week, knowing you can entrust it all into the capable and ever-present hands of Christ.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome. I welcome everything that comes to me today because I know it's for my healing. I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons, situations, and conditions. I let go of my desire for power and control. I let go of my desire for affection, esteem, approval and pleasure. I let go of my desire for survival and security. I let go of my desire to change any situation, condition, person or myself. I open to the love and presence of God and God's action within. Amen”
I am also a pilgrim with a map Amber. I have found myself in your shoes more times than I count. My entire life has been this way and in this I have been SQUASHED.
I do not write anymore. I don’t even attempt to explore my thoughts in poetic style and I keep my mouth shut all the time. I long for the truth in reading other people’s stories because I can live freely in the lives of those people and find understanding in myself that way. If that even makes any sense . It’s been so long since I’ve attempted to make myself heard feel like I’ve lost the ability to communicate/convey my reality.
I love reading your thoughts and stories and I love listening to you speak to the people. I can actually escape from that feeling of being silenced through you. ❤️
It's funny how we as women can hold two radically different emotions about naming our reality. Love. you. Thanks for being you!