Breaking Down Boxes

In the language of psychologists, they're called heuristics, mental shortcuts that we all use to make sense of the plethora of information thrown at us on a daily basis. Most people will be familiar with what is possibly the most famous of these heuristics: stereotypes. And most will agree that stereotypes are Bad--with a capital "B". Then again, the dictionary defines "stereotype" as "a simplified and standardized conception or image invested with special meaning and held in common by members of a group. " In a speech, or writing, for example, a stereotype can serve as shorthand to evoke a particular memory or emotion, and can be enormously helpful. Professionals use what are essentially stereotypes on a daily basis: the lawyer deciding what sort of case they may accept, the doctor determining what sort of disease their patient most likely has, the police officer deciding whether or not the person they just pulled over for speeding is also transporting drugs.

There is absolutely no question that stereotypes, and other mental shortcuts, can be helpful, particularly when you are overwhelmed by information. As human beings, we like to make sense of things, and if you can apply a cut-and-dried label to a particular person or situation, you are much more likely to know how to deal with it. Of course, this assumes that cut-and-dried labels actually work, and perhaps they do for certain discrete situations, such as when defining or describing a large group. In that situation, generalizations are either necessary or impossible, and so if you have to describe a group (like politicians or lawyers), you're going to end up painting many individuals with the same brush (like corrupt or materialistic). Chances are there is enough truth to those stereotypes that you are going to be right at least some of the time, even if you're also wrong.

Things get tricky when you wander out of the world of description, from which bad (and good) jokes are made, and into the world of prescription (how to live/structure your life). When you base the prescription for a certain action or certain behavior on generalizations, you end up hurting people that you probably intended to help. It is, I'm afraid, a situation I've run into far too many times, especially within the Church.

I don't mean to imply that Christians are particularly bad about this sort of thing, or that they are not (as a body) thoughtful people. I only mean that when Christians stereotype, they are not applying that generalization to one category, but to at least two, and generally those categories are so integral to a person that to say, "You do not fit my stereotype of how X sort of person behaves" is also to say, "You are not a good [X], and also not a good Christian." In short, you are saying that the person is not fulfilling God's expectations for how a [fill in the blank] Christian is to live. For someone whose deepest desire is to follow God and to do His will, this sort of criticism cuts right down to the bone.

Since this is a blog about how faith intersects with feminism, among other things, I'm sure you all see where I'm going with this. One of the most insidious generalizations that Christians can make apply to men and women as discrete groups. I cannot say this strongly enough: while a person's gender affects much, if not most, of what they do and think and say, that person is first and foremost a human being, an individual, and secondarily a man or woman. "Male" and "female" modify human, and not the other way around. We see this in the very beginning, in Genesis, where it says that "male and female God created them." It does not say that God created men, and God created women, as though they are different species, although I'm sure there are plenty of people who would say that it certainly feels that way sometimes.

Why is this even an issue? Because when we define roles for men and women so strictly as to disallow all God-created individuality, we set ourselves up as gods over others. And no, I do not believe that language is too strong. For example, when we run across a woman who clearly has the gift of discernment, who is a talented speaker and preacher, who has the wit and wisdom to lead a congregation, and we say to her, "Your role as shepherd of a flock is an offense to God," we are assuming God's role, and negating God's call on her life. When we say to a man, who is an effective nurturer, who is gifted in raising and rearing children, and who desires to be a nurse, or a stay-at-home father, or other not stereotypically male job, "You are in violation of God's call for all men to work outside the home and provide for his family," we are negating God's call on his life.

I hope that you can begin to see what this sort of response does to a person. It does not simply say, "You are a bad man/woman," but also, "You are a bad Christian, and a bad person." This sort of perspective is disastrous, because it forces people into roles they are ill-equipped to take on, while also demanding that they be something they are not. Moreover, it leaves many ill-equipped to deal with unexpected situations that crop up: a woman suddenly called to lead and care for her family, because she has lost her husband, doing things "a woman is not supposed to do"; a man who is suddenly thrust into a position of a single father, or a caretaker for his disabled wife, doing things that "a man is not supposed to do."

And, because we are a community of believers, and not simply a group of individuals, such a viewpoint also acts to stunt the growth of the body as a whole. If it is true, and the Church is a body, injury to one member is injury to all, and if we do not nurture and develop the gifts of one individual, or a group of individuals, we stunt the body as a whole.

What is really irritating is when our culturally assumed stereotypes become "God-given truth," rather than being seen for the culturally driven myths that they are. For example, the idea that women cannot lead because they are too emotional, and too easily deceived, or the myth of the male libido--that all men want sex all the time and cannot exercise self control. Not only does that do a disservice to women, telling them that they "need" someone to make decisions for them because they certainly cannot make decisions on their own, but also to men, by placing the burden on their shoulders for the actions and decisions of the women in their lives. Telling men that they can't control themselves frees them from personal responsibility in the area of their sexual desires, but it also places a burden on women to avoid inciting men to sexual desire or violence because the men cannot control their responses. And it ostracizes women who have strong sexual desires by making it appear as though they are abnormal.

These are simply two gendered stereotypes often found in within the Church. I could probably write a book on it, and certainly others already have.

Once we do away with these culturally enforced stereotypes we see these myths for what they truly are. All people have blind spots, and some have less discernment than others--men and women. Knowing our weaknesses, we can go to the Church, to the body, for support and guidance, trusting that God and our brothers and sisters will strengthen us. When we realize that sexual desire falls on a continuum, that some are more prone to stumbling in this area than others--male and female, we can encourage personal responsibility, and act without censure to shore up those who may be inclined to fail.

When we break down boxes, when we do away with stereotypes within the Christian context, we can begin to see individuals as God created them to be: complicated, interesting, no one the same as the next. We can celebrate gifts and shore up weaknesses. We can help our fellow brothers and sisters to reach their God-given potential, and forge relationships that allow us to best serve the others in our lives. We can encourage both personal responsibility and true community, as each individual serves God and one another in Christ.

Just as we were created to do.

A Call to Community

Recently, there has been some drama in various corners of the internet where I live. One such piece of drama involved a role playing game (RPG) for the Harry Potter fandom, where the moderators called it "Kristallnacht." For those of you not familiar with the name, it is translated "Night of the Broken Glass," and was a key point in World War II history, where the Nazis harmed thousands of Jews, arrested a number of them, and looted stores and businesses. As you might imagine, the choice to name a game after such a night caused many quite a bit of anger, and when some folks expressed that anger, the creators of the game responded with comments like, "It's ancient history. Get over it." I'm sure you can guess how well that went over."

I've been following this whole kerfuffle with some interest. You see, I love history, and have ever since I was a small child. History, to me, is just as good as fantasy or sci-fi. History is a story that really happened, and like other stories, we have a chance to learn from it. I have noticed a dearth of interest in history among people of my generation, however. If it's not now, current, and affecting you (generic) personally, then it doesn't matter.

Having followed a link to a post from one of the people who was most responsible for keeping the flames of anger burning, I saw the following comment (from her, in response to someone else):

You're still thinking that I'm saying you don't have a right to be upset, which isn't it at all. But as people, we need to look out for ourselves and decide the right actions for us to take. In my journal, I am expressing where I know I fucked up and what I need to work on. I'm coping with my emotions in a manner that isn't going out and attacking people.

Then, after following a link to a story about the conditions in Auschwitz, I was struck by the similarity to this statement made by a former SS officer after being asked if he felt badly that he'd made his own life more comfortable stealing from the victims while millions died:

Oskar Gröning: "Absolutely not. Everybody is looking out for themselves. So many people died in the war, not only Jews. So many things happened, so many were shot, so many snuffed it. People burnt to death, so many were burnt, if I thought about all of that I wouldn't be able to live one minute longer."

I want to be clear that I'm not equating the actions of the two. One was a foolish girl who made inflammatory and ignorant remarks about a period of history that she has clearly not studied in depth. (Because no one could tell another person to "get over" the Holocaust if they'd studied it at all.) The other was an SS officer who was complicit in the deaths of thousands, if not millions, who died at the hands of the Nazis. It's the sense of "I am going to look out for my own interests and am responsible to no one" that gets me.

The truth, the whole truth, is that we are all responsible to one another. It's an unpopular opinion in these days of extreme individualism, but every action that you or I take will have an impact on another. A statement you make denigrating someone's religion or race will impact them negatively, which could then cause them to respond negatively to someone else down the road. For example, take Anne Coulter. She claims to be a Christian, and yet her statements cause so many to feel that all Christians are bigoted idiots, which then affects me, someone she doesn't even know. Because then, when I say that I'm a Christian, those who know of Anne Coulter and don't really know me, draw an obvious comparison.

Hundreds of years ago, John Donne said that "no man is an island." I'm sure that if he lived today, in the time of gender neutrality in writing, he would have said that "no person is an island," and that is absolutely true. We cannot only be responsible to ourselves and for ourselves, or the whole world descends into chaos. We must also be responsible to others and for others, or we lose what makes us human. The choice to look out only for ourselves, to not think about others, or future generations is what has resulted in the degradation of the environment, in the choice to look the other way while another is molested or suffers abuse.

So, consider this a call to a community perspective. Is it possible that we can reverse years of ingrained individualism and think of our neighbor? As a Christian, I am called to "love my neighbor as myself," but couldn't we all do that? And wouldn't the world be a better place as a result?

I'm not saying that we should all be "nice" all the time, and stifle our emotions. It may actually mean that we call things what they are--that we say to someone, hey, you're being rude, or abusive, or cruel. It may mean that we make some waves in calling bad behavior just that. It might mean that we take the harder road, and lose friends.

Or maybe it means that we end up being better people with bigger hearts. I could live with that.