Friends or foes?
A hot discussion topic this week in my home school email group has been a “Drag Queen Story Hour” scheduled at a local public library. I say “discussion,” but there is little actual discussion. Mostly it’s panic. Missive after missive lands in my inbox, where I’m told this is an “emergency prayer” need and a call to action “to protect children.” Some of the emailers have called the library director and expressed their feeling that the event is “sick,” “disgusting,” and “perverse.” Others have called legislators. Now there is talk of holding a prayer meeting at the doors to the library.
My feelings on this are more complicated. Although I don’t support the story hour, the tenor and approach of these emails really bothers me.
First, if asked my opinion, I think the event should not be held. The library is a public institution, supported by taxpayers, and it should maintain neutrality in the culture wars. Bringing in a group of male cross-dressers to read children’s princess stories — men with no known literacy credentials — can only be seen as the library supporting one stance on a controversial political topic. (There are plenty of examples of such events across the country. You can do an internet search to find the AP’s story on a drag queen story hour at the New York Public Library, and it’s plain that this constitutes not mere “exposure to new ideas,” but blatant advocacy.)
So what recourse do parents have if they object? They can call the library, and they can call legislators. They can choose to stay home from the story hour. Once these things have been done, and (not surprisingly in a state whose governor a few years ago told anyone who is pro-life to move to a different state) once their efforts have been rebuffed, the avenue of political action is closed. Picketing the library accomplishes little but ill will. This is an event that parents bring their children to, not one that children attend on their own. The parents have this freedom, just as I have the freedom to rear my children in the way I think best.
Christians have largely lost influence in the culture because they rely on such political action. And what gets reflected when they realize they are no longer in control is not exactly winsome or productive.
I happen to be a Christian, and I take a Christian view of gender among other things. The wisdom of a story hour focused on gender fluidity could certainly be debated. But I can’t help thinking that relying exclusively on the political approach is wrong-headed. A more effective way to live our faith is through the radical kindness and friendship that Jesus demonstrates to all of us. All of us, after all, are sinners, according to the Bible. Did Jesus walk those precious few years of his life on earth branding people as perverse, disgusting, or sick? Certainly not in the sense conveyed by the email discussion this week. His hardest words were for the Pharisees. But when it came to the most “disgusting” sinners in the ancient culture he lived in — prostitutes, tax collectors, lepers — he befriended them. He invited Zaccheus to have lunch with him. He defended (and in doing so, probably redeemed) the life of a prostitute about to be stoned. He invited Matthew to follow him. These people turned from their sin not in response to condemnation, but friendship.
The sad truth is that, like many Christians I know, in this stage of my life exposure to people with different beliefs is very limited — and so my credibility to speak on any topic of intimate importance to them is nil. When I was in a graduate English program years ago, or teaching in state colleges, my world was much more diverse. This not only gave me the opportunity to be friends, and therefore to talk honestly about issues, with people who don’t share my faith. It made my faith more vital.
How could I discuss, in real life, the topic of the drag queen story hour with someone who believes it’s a good thing? At present the only option is the library’s Facebook page, where the virtual conversation has already spiraled out of control, and where there is of course no direct, personal relationship among the participants. Such discussions should take place face to face, within the context of friendship, as Jesus modeled. In such a context there is at least a possibility that both parties can learn and grow, and — if you believe as I do that there is such a thing as truth — truth can be approached.
Christianity isn’t just about winning the war of ideas. It’s about putting our trust in someone who loves us. How much trust do we gain by condemning, picketing, or spattering Bible verses on a library Facebook page?
