Saturday, November 1, 2008

Review of "For The Bible Tells Me So"

So, I just watched For The Bible Tells Me So, a wonderful documentary about reconciling homosexuality with Christianity. It follows the stories of several strongly Christian families dealing with the fact that one of their loved ones is gay. Among the families interviewed are those of Gene Robinson, the first openly gay Bishop of the Episcopal Church, and Chrissy Gephardt, the lesbian daughter of former House Majority Leader Richard Gephardt. The movie also features several religious scholars, including Desmond Tutu.

The bulk of the movie is made up of the families' stories and struggles in accepting their loved ones' homosexuality. Some families are more accepting than others. For some, like the Wallner family, acceptance comes too late. Ms Wallner's daughter committed suicide before the two could reconcile. Others, like the Reitan family, are positively transformed by the coming out of one of their children. The Reitans became gay-rights activists, and Mary Lou Wallner went on to found TEACH Ministries. However, the movie also touches on some important aspects of Christianity's rejection of homosexuals. Alternate readings of the biblical passages dealing with homosexuality are briefly dealth with, in particular the passage which calls homosexuality an abomination and the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. Here's a taste (at the 1:24 mark):



The main argument, however, isn't in the possible alternate readings. The movie critisizes literalist approaches to the Bible, making the case that the Bible must be read with an understanding and consideration of the cultural context in which it was written. It also points out the way the Church tends to essencialize LGBT people by focusing solely on their sexuality, ignoring the fact that they are human beings deserving of the same love and respect granted to heterosexuals. It is argued that Christians who follow the Bible on this particular rule, but not on all the others, à la Jacobs, are picking and choosing passages to follow. Another thing the film rejects is the static view of religion adopted by anti-homosexual churches, which doesn't account for the many ways in which our understanding of the Bible has changed since it was written (ex: Women are no longer acquired by their husbands as a possession would be). Ultimately, the movie is about Christian Love done right.

It's definitely a powerful film, especially toward the end. I must admit, I shed a few tears (although anyone who knows me, probably knows what a crybaby I am). Tutu, in partucular, made a very powerful statement that really sticks out in my mind, so I'm going to try and paraphrase it as best I can:

I can't imagine God telling me, "I hate you, because you're black. You should have been born white. I hate you, because you're a woman. You should have been a man. I hate you because you're homosexual. You should have been straight."

Now, I know that when Hemant profiled this movie a few months ago on Friendly Atheist, some of the commenters said they didn't want to see a movie about reconciling Christianity with homosexuality, but would rather Christianity were rejected altogether. I don't think that's the point. I think that it's about being happy, and if you're happy being Christian, or Muslim, or Jewish, or Hindu, or any other religion (or no religion, for that matter), and you're also happy being gay, lesbian, transsexual, transgendered, bisexual, asexual, heterosexual etc., then noone should tell you that you have to pick one or the other, but not both. Religious belief and sexuality are both important parts of people's identities and they shouldn't be incompatible. And isn't that what Christian Love is all about - accepting and loving thy neighbour? I don't need to be a believer to know that that's the only Christianity I'd respect.

Maclean's Interview With Julian Barnes


This week's Maclean's (Nov 10th issue) features an interview with Julian Barnes, author of Nothing to be Frightened of, a memoir/essay about death without God. In the interview, Kenneth Whyte asks Barnes about his atheism, among other things. Unfortunately, the interview isn't available online (yet?), but I've transcribed some of the relevant parts below:


Q: Your first line is, "I don't believe in God, but I miss him."

A: That's right, yes. I just found myself saying that when I was on some public stage and someone said, "Do you believe in God?" and that was my instant response, and it was one that on reflection I thought was true. I grew up in a family where, probably from the point when my grandmother lost her Methodist faith and became a Communist - or socialist - nearly, oh, 90 years ago, there hasn't been anything that you would call faith in the family, let alone church attendance. But, you know, when a great story ends I think we all miss it, and it was a great story. There were aspects of it that leave a sense of want. One is that if life is a mere prelude or preparation for something else, then life becomes both more trivial and more important, and if not then we can grow to our full height but that height is comparatively dwarfish. If this is all there is and this is all we are then it's a bit disappointing.

Q: You do talk about various writers and friends contemplating death and contemplating heaven and I can't recall one depiction of heaven being the least appealing.

A: Well, you sound a bit like my brother. I regard myself as a rationalist, but my brother - who's spent his life teaching ancient philosophy - is a super-rationalist and makes me seem sloppy and barely reasonable, and so part of the book is a friendly fraternal argument with my brother. He says, "I'd hate to have to spend eternity in the presence of saints and martyrs," and I say, "Well, actually, saints weren't just pious, boring fellows. They were often at the cutting edge of social change and they had often very interesting deaths, as well. And in medieval times they're probably some of the most intelligent, sophisticated people on earth. After all, Dom Pérignon - after whom the champagne is named - was a monk." I don't see why you should think that heaven must be infinitely boring.

Q: You write elsewhere that we have replaced our traditional ideas of heaven with a secular, modern heaven of self-fulfillment, where it all comes down to development of the personality and having a high-status job and pursuing material goods, which sounds, relative to what you've described, rather grim.

A: I think as modern society has become more secular we sell ourselves a sort of junior version of paradise. We too often need someone else to define what it is that we want, and in the old days religion did that for us, and nowadays it's multinational corporations trying to sell us stuff, or tone our bodies, or make us forget about death, so I don't think it's a substantial improvement.

Q: You quote somebody - I think it might have been Robespierre - on atheism being...

A: Aristocratic. Yes, that's Robespierre. I find that the hardline atheist's dismissal of people's religious beliefs as merely stupid and primitive is arrogant. And, you know, I agree with them that this life is all we have in all probability, but I don't believe that people who have a religious faith are necessarily either bigots or idiots. What I'm saying is that I find the spiritual or religious impulse in people to be natural and to be respected, even if the doings in the name of churches are often nefarious and oppressive.

Q: There seems to be most certainty about atheism in the U.K., when in a lot of the rest of the world we're seeing something of a revival in religious fervour.

A: Yes. The Brits, after all, gave Darwin to the world. I think in Europe the retreat of the traditional religions is strong. The collapse of religion in Ireland, for example, and France, and to a lesser extent Italy has been quite spectacular.

Q: America being one grand exception.

A: America is one grand exception indeed. America manages to combine extreme materialism with extreme religiosity, and it is a bizarre thought that in this presidential cycle, we could have had a woman in the White House, we might have a black man in the White House, but if either of them had said they were atheists neither of them would have had a hope in hell, all too literally.

[...]


I found Barnes' thought process interesting, so I'll try to get a hold of his book as soon as possible, and hopefully, I'll be able to update this post with a link to the whole interview. He's a good antidote to Hitchens' kind of atheism, so I definitely look forward to hearing more from him in the near future.