Some things I admire about Christianity, as it has been explained to me:

  • Loving thy neighbor and feeding the poor
  • Judging not, and casting not the first stone
  • Unconditional acceptance because everyone is imperfect. “God loves you just as you are.”

Sadly, it seems that many people who call themselves Christians do not love their neighbors or feed the poor. They judge others every chance they get, and their acceptance is conditional as all get out. “God hates fags.”

Some things I admire about liberals/progressives:

  • Conviction that we have a collective responsibility to feed the poor, whether we love them or not.
  • Judging not.
  • Love, love, love. Let gay people get married. Those Christians are about hate but we’re all about loooove.

Sadly, my liberal/progressive comrades also often fail at practicing what they preach.

Consider this essay, a painfully truthful account in which an evangelical Christian family deals with a son who has told them he is gay. (Full disclosure: I know the author slightly.) Linda tells all in this piece. She was distraught by her son’s revelation at age 12. They spent the next several years trying to pray the gay away with counseling, churching, “reparative therapy,” and so on. Apparently in despair over his inability to become un-gay, the boy immersed himself in drugs and disappeared.

By the time he returned, Linda had come to regret it all. She’d been wrong and she knew it. And just when it seemed like it might all turn out okay—the parents got a clue, the boy got into rehab—a plot twist so devastating it could’ve happened in a Russian novel occurred. The boy relapsed, overdosed, and died.

This is what I took away from the story: Linda and her husband loved that child and were motivated solely by their love and care for him. That their deeply held religious beliefs caused them to act on that love and care in such a damaging manner is tragic, and they (and their son) paid the ultimate price. Since then, Linda has become an advocate for unconditional acceptance and love. She’s still religious, yes, but her understanding of how one lives as a Christian has changed. “God loves you just as you are.”

So, it was with dismay that I read through the hundreds of comments on Linda’s soul-baring essay. Many are nasty and cruel, accusing Linda and her husband of murdering their beloved son. That she learned so very hard a lesson and that she bravely presented that lesson in public in the hope of preventing such a tragedy from happening in another family seems to carry no weight. The readers are unrelentingly unforgiving. This is what I took away from the liberal/progressive comments: Love and acceptance and tolerance and rainbows are only for those who are perfect in our eyes.

To callously refuse to offer another imperfect, blundering human being the very grace that you yourself are demanding is despicable hypocrisy. I hope the writers of the comments someday learn what love really looks like.



I was in the middle of Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle when I got distracted by a featured post on Xanga.  I read all 700 + comments—thus breaking my New Year’s resolution already.  The post told me that even though I’m a nice person who works in human services, pays my taxes, loves my children, and looks after my neighbors, I’m definitely, positively going to hell.  Sheez, I’m not even gay!  I don’t even kick the dog.  Heck, I don’t even HAVE a dog.

The whole thing, including the many, many comments concurring with the blogger’s assessment of my afterlife, reminded me of the Roman Emperor Caligula.  Not that I spend a lot of time thinking about Roman Emperors, but recently my husband and I have been watching the old miniseries, I, Claudius.  Anyway, Caligula declared himself a god, and not just any god, but Jupiter, the Big Daddy of the gods.  People believed him because…I don’t know why anyone would believe him, but there are a lot of things people believe that I don’t understand.

Caligula/Jupiter rather capriciously killed anyone who displeased him, and he was so very easy to displease.  If you kissed his butt and he was happy with you, it was party time, but everyone around him lived in fear, because no matter how upright, kind, productive, pleasant, helpful, or anything else you might be, Caligula would have you whacked on a dime.

But it’s the book I wanted to talk about. 

I was kind of bummed about going to hell when I went back to Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, in which Kingsolver discusses her family’s experience with living for a whole year on only locally grown food, much of which they grew themselves.  She also weaves in a great deal of essay/commentary about food, especially about the intensely negative effects of relying on Big Agribusiness for our food supply. 

And there I was, going to hell again!  I think my diet is pretty good, especially by American standards.  I limit my saturated fats and I consume more vegetables than anyone I know.  But it seems I’ve been eating the wrong vegetables!  Some were trucked to me with gallons of fossil fuels from the far corners of the earth! 

I’m making light, of course, but I am far more sympathetic to Kingsolver’s argument than to the featured post I mentioned.  (Also, she didn’t actually threaten me.)  Consider: a small number of giant corporations produce the majority of our food, even the fresh produce.  They are not interested in providing us with the best tasting food.  They do not concern themselves with the nutritional quality of our food.  They are motivated by one thing and one thing only: maximizing their profits.

The profit motive leads to such travesties as the production of plants that cannot reproduce themselves, so farmers can’t save seeds for the next crop (forcing them to buy more seeds from the company).  And the “Round-Up Ready” plants that can survive being hosed with herbicides that kill all the weeds around them.  Do you want to eat food that’s been hosed with Round Up? 

We can now buy only one variety of wheat.  Every turkey available to you for your holiday meal is of one breed.  The bio-diversity of our food supply shrinks and shrinks—courting disaster, like an undiversified portfolio.  And of course, buying food produced far away burns fuel, creates pollution, and oh, the list goes on.  It’s enough to make you want to pull on your hemp clothes and visit your p-patch right now.

Of course, a piece of my brain is reminding me that the ability to transport resources is one of the things that makes humans so successful as a species.  And how many things would you have to live without if you adhered to a local food only rule?  Do bananas grow in your state?  Mine neither.

January is the wrong time to read this book.  Even the crunchy organic food delivery service I recently subscribed to is hard-pressed to find much local food to send me now.  But a little more mindfulness about my purchases, over the course of a year, adds up to a significant impact, especially if other people are a little more mindful too. 

Our planet is our responsibility while we’re on it.  What happens after, I don’t pretend to know.