Can you tell the difference?

An apparently all-powerful entity that crushes all those who rebel…

…that excessively blesses some while others starve to death.

An entity that expects people to be thankful that the entity lets them live (provided they sacrifice the things they love the most) rather than destroying them completely due to an offense their distant ancestors committed.

An entity that likes to take away the things people love the most to remind people how totally they are at its mercy.

…..

Now, am I talking about the fundamentalist evangelical god, or am I talking about the first chapter of The Hunger Games?

I kept this short and sweet. Now, discuss.

Fear or Love?

Growing up in a Fundamental Baptist high school, I heard some ridiculous arguments against feminism. My favorite goes something like this:

Feminists secretly hate women! That’s right! They hate women, and let me tell you why! They want women to be equal to men. That means, they think women don’t need men. Feminists won’t let men hold doors open for them or pay for their dates. And they won’t let men protect them! Chivalry is DEAD because of feminists. That’s right.

Oh, and don’t forget. Feminists are also responsible for the wide availability of The Pill! Because of The Pill, men now see women as sex objects! Because men don’t have to worry about having babies, men think they can rape women left and right without suffering the consequences.

So, because of feminists, men are raping women. Also because of feminists, these women have no men to protect them from men who want to rape them! See all these problems feminists have caused?!?

I used to wonder how anyone could come to such faulty conclusions with this argument. How can these people not see that men who rape and hurt women, not feminists, are the problem?

But now when I hear these arguments, I’m not surprised. Not one bit.

I should not be surprised that some Christians believe that women need men to protect them from men, because these same Christians also believe that people need God to protect them from God.

It’s the exact same philosophy, really.

People wanted too much freedom, so instead of The Pill, they ate the forbidden fruit. And now God is mad. Now God can unleash God’s wrath on people…

…unless, of course, people stop trying to be so independent and put themselves under God’s leadership so that God can protect people from God’s wrath.

Inherent in both of these philosophies is fear. 

According to this philosophy, women need men, not because of love.

Not because we love our friends and fathers and brothers and possible romantic partners.

But because women should be afraid of men and their uncontrollable sex drives.

Because women need men to protect them from fearsome men.

And people need God.

Not because we love God and because God loves us.

But because we should be afraid of God and God’s uncontrollable wrath.

Because people need God to protect them from the fearsome God.

It’s all about fear, but there is no fear in love. So, which is it Christians? Are we about love, or are we about fear? You can’t have both.

Behold, my procrastination abilities!

Remember when I said last week that I was going to write about More Light Presbyterians the next day?

Yeah, I didn’t do that.

I went to Ohio to go to Zombie Walk in Columbus instead.

So, yeah. I didn’t write about More Light Presbyterians. Sorry.

I will get around to that! I PROMISE! And I promise I’ll start writing everyday again. But, today, I’m just going to share this interview that I did for my internet friend Travis Mamone and the Something Beautiful podcast!

It’s been out for a week or two now (what? You expect me to post things in a timely manner? What planet are you from? You should know how I roll by now!), so you might have already heard it. But in case you haven’t, take a listen!

Click here to listen to the interview!

Click here to listen to the response to my interview! 

Not them. Us.

This week, Amendment One passed in North Carolina. We all know this by now, I’m sure.

And we all know who is responsible.

I don’t know what we Christians hope to accomplish. Even if you believe same-sex marriage is wrong (I personally do not think there is anything wrong with same-sex relationships–here is why. Please don’t waste your time trying to argue it with me in the comments section because I’ve made a well-researched decision and you’re not going to change my mind at this point), what do we hope to do? Legislate “morality?” Arrest people who do not accept (particular definitions of) the Bible? Show God’s love by denying others their rights?

Damn straight.

But, I honestly don’t want to talk to those Christians right now. Some of you reading my blog may still believe that taking away people’s rights in the name of Jesus is the right way to love others and to treat others as you would want to be treated, but I’m going to guess that most of those types of Christians have long since given up on me (or are too busy praying for me to stop “backsliding”). If I’m wrong, and you’re one of those Christians and you’re reading this, please read with an open mind and don’t be a jerk in the comments (I WILL delete you. I mean it).

I want to talk to my fellow LGBT-affirming/tolerating Christians. The ones who don’t think that taking away the rights of others shows the love of God. Whether you affirm same-sex relationships like I do or you think same-sex relationships are wrong but don’t force those beliefs on others, this is for you.

First of all, you’re not alone. It’s not you vs. the Church.

Sure, it may feel that way. Especially for those of us who grew up in fundamental or evangelical churches. I’m sure many of us have heard “God wants us to love, but not tolerate sin,” and “you need to read the Bible because it clearly says ____,” speeches.

It gets frustrating and tiring.

I know, believe me. I know. I break down and cry every now and then because of all the pressure from my brothers and sisters in Christ to hate others. And I’m dating a man, so I have it much easier than those of you who may face pressures from your brothers and sisters in Christ to hate yourself.

But we’re not alone. There are lots of us.

Allies facing rebuke.

People with questions being shot down.

Gays and lesbians who feel they should be celibate facing misunderstanding and lack of support.

Out LGBT people facing excommunication.

Closeted LGBT people facing shame.

Which brings me to my next point. The LGBT community is not just “out there.”

I was thankful to see posts by some of my favorite Christian bloggers, expressing outrage over Amendment One.

Rachel Held Evans (whom I love dearly), wrote a beautiful post:

When it comes to homosexuality, we no longer think in the black-at-white categories of the generations before ours. We know too many wonderful people from the LGBT community to consider homosexuality a mere “issue.” These are people, and they are our friends. When they tell us that something hurts them, we listen. And Amendment One hurts like hell.

Her words are true.

But…

LGBT people aren’t just our friends.

When we assume that the LGBT community is some separate group outside the church, we forget that many people within the church are LGBT and many LGBT people are Christians. When we talk about LGBT people as a church, we need to realize that many of them are our siblings in Christ.

We are talking about us. Not them.

The church and the LGBT community are not mutually exclusive.

Tomorrow I’m going to talk about a group of LGBT activists who work with and within the church toward change–More Light Presbyterians. I really love what this group is doing. I think they’re more inclusive and bold than even many secular LGBT activist groups. Until then, what reminds you as an LGBT Christian or ally that you are not alone?

When your home church doesn’t feel like home

I’ve been away from my hometown in Michigan for four years now, but I’m back, for at least a year.

Only it doesn’t feel like home right now.

Parts do. I get along with my parents better than I ever did, and, now that I am no longer an angsty teenager, I can see them as humans…friends even. My siblings and I are as close as ever, and even though my best friend (since we were babies) is now all married and grown up, our relationship is the same as ever. Two of our three cats still like to sneak into my room at night and curl up on my chest so that I wake up to an allergy attack of love in the morning. The third cat still hates me and everyone else and all is right with the world.

But somehow in the past four years, I lost my home church.

I don’t know how it happened exactly.

I know I’ve changed. I feel like it’s changed. Sometimes I feel that I’ve outgrown it, and other times I feel that it’s rejected me. Maybe it’s a little of both. But it’s not home anymore, I know that.

Oh, I want it to be. So badly.

See, I knew it wasn’t home from the first summer I came back from college. I knew I didn’t fit there anymore. But I stayed…and I stayed…and I stayed. I told myself I was being too selfish or too bitter. I told myself I was nitpicking or not focusing on Jesus enough.

“Stick it out,” I told myself.

“You’re not perfect either,” I reminded myself.

“You’re not here because of ____,” I said.

But after three years, I knew that staying at this church was just killing my soul.

I want to love it. I want to love it for all the people who will empty their wallets whenever another church member needs help. I want to love it for the woman who answered my prayers and put a ten dollar bill in my hand the last time I went. I want to love it for the people who will answer their phones at 3 in the morning when a teen needs a ride home from a party or just a shoulder to cry on.

There are good people there. Some of the best people. People that I still look up to and people who put this so-called advocate for social justice to shame with how much they care about those in need.

And I will never forget that when I came to that church as a misfit in high school, they welcomed me with open arms. They made me feel like I belonged somewhere–maybe for the first time in my life.

Image via the fantastic David Hayward

When I go now, though, I feel like a misfit again. I don’t want to, because there is good there and I want to be a part of it, but I can’t help it. I feel like I don’t belong anymore.

I feel like I could belong, if I stopped believing this or at least stopped talking about that. If I stopped being friends with those people or stopped dating this person. If I stopped asking questions and stopped having doubts and if I took everything the church leaders said at face value…

If I ignored the hurtful words of some church leaders and teachers, and the congregational “Amens!” that usually follow. The jokes about certain people that aren’t jokes. Not really. The phrases like “over-educated” and “too smart for your own good” that pierce my academia loving soul. The hateful, degrading words used to describe people I love, just because those people believe differently or have the “wrong” kind of sex. The words condemning these people that I love to hell.

I’m not sure it’s worth it.

I’m not sure I want to give up this part of me. And I know I don’t want to ignore those words anymore.

There are people there who would never want me to give up that part of me. People who love me despite my beliefs and despite the fact that I talk back when I hear these words. Those people will always be my family.

But I can’t ignore the feeling of dread I get when I walk into that building anymore.

It’s not home.

So, I’m leaving.

Hopefully on not-too-horrible terms. I refuse to ignore the hateful words and hurtful teachings that drove me away (because those words and teachings do not exist solely within this church, nor do they effect only the people within this church, and they need to be fought against), but I hope all at the church know that I will never ever forget the good.

But I have to go. After four years of trying to pretend it was home, while knowing deep down it wasn’t, I have to go.

Consider this my farewell.

I have only well wishes for the little church that I used to call home. Any criticisms I have from here on out come from a sincere desire to see all churches become more like Jesus. I hope the good in that church continues to grow. I hope the love gets bigger and stronger and that someday there is no room for hate.

Maybe someday, the doors of that church will open wide enough for evolutionists and agnostics and trans people and gays and democrats. Maybe even stubborn, opinionated, skeptical feminists such as myself.

Until then, let us part ways.

But peace be with you.

A goodbye.

Update: When I wrote this piece last night, I was told that my grandma had a stroke and probably wasn’t going to come out of it. I was told that if she did, she would be paralyzed or a vegetable. But she’s a fighter and has recovered much better than expected. She’s still not doing well, but I may go visit her in Florida next week, and hopefully I’ll get to say a real goodbye. Thanks, everyone for your support.

I guess this is the goodbye that I won’t get to tell you.

I’m here stuck at school studying for my exams that don’t seem to matter anymore. From the sound of things you wouldn’t even know I was there if I could say goodbye, but still. It seems like the world should stop turning to see you off. But that’s the thing about life–you don’t get to pause it.

My sister and I always joked that you’d  outlive all of us. You always seemed so strong for 89…90…91… You seemed timeless in a sense. But I guess no one is. Not really.

I don’t know if there’s a heaven, but of course, I wouldn’t tell you that if I thought you would really be reading this. I guess whether or not I know won’t change anything, but I wish…

I wish right now, more than ever, that I knew. I wish it were as easy to believe as it used to be when I was a child and heaven was a shiny, golden castle in the clouds that was as real and as wonderful to me as sunshine or your warm, sweet potato pie.

I wish I could know.

I wish I could know that you were in good hands.

I wish my faith were stronger for you. Oh, how I wish that.

But since I can’t know, I’ll hope.

I’ll hope that heaven is a place where Matlock is always on and where the book shelves are always filled with Readers Digest condensed books.

Where Debbie and Neil and Lee and Grandpa are waiting.

I hope it’s not hard.

I hope it’s like falling asleep.

I hope it’s like rest.

I hope it’s like warmth with God’s love all around.

I hope that with all the pieces of my broken faith, glued together with my love for you.

But since I can’t know, life seems more precious. So short, even at 92. So fragile. A vapor slipping through my hands.

I’ll always remember what that life meant to me.

I love you, Grandma.

Weekend reads!

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted my favorite reads of the week, but there were so many good ones this week that I had to take a break from paper writing and share them. Enjoy!

“It’s Not Just About Healthcare” by Alise Wright  Often, when I find myself locked in a debate about birth control, I find myself resorting to the whole “some women need it for medical reasons!” argument. But as Alise reminds us, women like sex too, and that’s OKAY.

“If Atheists Talked Like Christians” by Hemant Mehta I’m no Atheist, but when I saw these tweets, I cracked right up.

“Well-Behaved Women Won’t Change the Church” by Kathy Escobar This post really resonated with me, as a former “good-girl (yeah, I was one of those once! Don’t laugh).” Quite encouraging.

“95 Tweets Against Hell” at Two Friars and a Fool I recently stopped believing in hell, despite having been taught about it since I was three. That decision led to a loss of some friends and to concern from family members. It’s been hard. But this post was extremely affirming and gave me some strong defenses for my decision. So thankful.

“50 People You Wish You Knew in Real Life” at Buzz Feed This made me laugh so hard I cried.

…so did this.

If anyone’s been following me on Twitter lately, you know I’ve been up in arms against Relevant Magazine for publishing an article about women’s issues by an attempted murderer and former abuser (read more here). I’m very thankful to those who stood up to Relevant Magazine:

“Grace Like Legalism, Peace Like Fighting Well” by Suzannah Paul (beautiful piece)

“Grace Does Not Preclude Accountability” by Elizabeth Esther

“Loving at Arm’s Length” by Dianna Anderson

And this is an older post about Schwyzer, not directly related to the Relevant Magazine incident, but still important:

“When Your Abuser Claims to be a Feminist” by Julie M. Rodriguez 

An Update on Relevant Magazine and Hugo Schwyzer

In case anyone would like an update on the Relevant Magazine/Hugo Schwyzer situation, here are a couple of emails I sent Relevant. I have been asked not to quote their responses on my blog, and I will respect that, so the following are my emails, with brief summaries of the response I got in between.

 

My first email:

Dear Relevant Magazine,

I write this email hesitantly, because I am expecting to receive condescending pat answers from you, and I don’t know how many more of those I can handle today. I hope that you will surprise me by refraining from those and I hope that you will read this email with an opened mind and think about the complications of this issue. Thank you.

 

I am a long time reader of Relevant. In fact, I once called it my favorite website. I am grateful for the things it has taught me in the past and for the ways that it has inspired my own writing career. However, lately, Relevant has done many things that have convinced me that Relevant is not a safe space for the “least of these–” abuse survivors, women, and others in disenfranchised places in society.

 

Most recently, you have allowed Hugo Schwyzer, a former woman abuser and an attempted murder, to publish an article about women’s issues on your site. Simply publishing this article alone probably would not have warranted an email response from me, but how you have handled this has been disturbing for several reasons.

 

1. You did not disclose Schwyzer’s past in his bio, or put a trigger

warning on his article.

 

2. Some concerns you addressed with pat answers that amount to–”God has changed Schwyzer and we need to forget his past and have grace.”

 

3. Other concerns you simply silenced. I posted an article on your Facebook page addressing Schwyzer’s past. My post was deleted and I was blocked from Relevant’s facebook page. Several of my friends posted the same article and reported that their posts were also deleted.

 

You are not only refusing to disclose this man’s past, but you are actively silencing concerns. I am asking to you think deeply about the message this sends to your readers who are abuse survivors.

 

Yes, I believe people can change. The apostle Paul of the Bible is proof of that. But did the Bible edit out Paul’s history? Did Paul cover up his past?

 

To put it another way, what if a repentant child molester came to your church and wanted to work with children? Would you allow him to do this? Would you place him in that position without warning the parents of those children of this man’s past?

 

Why, then, would you allow a repentant woman abuser to write articles on women without warning women of what this man has done in the past? How can you expect women and survivors to feel safe commenting on your site or writing for your site, putting themselves in a position where Schwyzer can find their information?

 

Schwyzer has already shown that he has no boundaries and no concern for those who feel unsafe around him (he has attempted to follow my friends and me on Twitter, even as we were discussing on Twitter our being uncomfortable with his post on Relevant). Your unwillingness to inform readers of his history is enabling him to continue to make survivors uncomfortable.

 

Unless something is done about this, I will continue to use my platform as a writer to disclose Schwyzer’s past myself, and I will certainly reveal Relevant’s part in this.

 

Thank you,

 

Sarah Moon

 

Relevant responded politely, and even apologized for the fact that they did, in fact, respond with predictable pat answers. But, the fact of the matter is just that. They were pat answer–claims that informing readers of Schwyzer’s past would not be fair to Hugo. I wish I could show you the email so you could decide for yourself, but I did not notice any concern for the safety of readers or for the well-being of survivors.  The responder claimed that Schwyzer was actually the best person to speak for women’s issues because of his past (I don’t even…). The email claims that the people who made the decision to publish Schwyzer were feminists (…oh Relevant. I have spent enough time on the internet to know that the word “feminist” doesn’t always mean “someone who gives a damn about women.” Hush now). The email is also clear that editors were well informed of Schwyzer’s past yet chose to publish him anyway.

 

They did apologize for blocking me from their Facebook page and for deleting comments. They’ve promised to be more careful about moderating these comments in the future, so hopefully that means comments will no longer be deleted (so those of you who aren’t blocked can comment away! Let people know the truth).

 

Also, they’ve agreed to use more trigger warnings on posts in the future, but told me that Schwyzer’s post did not require a trigger warning (so, I guess that means my triggers upon seeing Schwyzer’s name don’t matter).

 

However, as grateful as I was for the response and for Relevant’s addressing my concerns about their deleting comments, I had many more concerns so I wrote another email.

My response:

Thank you for your reply.

 

Since you believe that Hugo Schwyzer has changed and is deserving of a platform at Relevant, I’m curious as to what you think about his continuing to participate in activities that make women highly uncomfortable.

 

As my friends and I were discussing the situation via Twitter, Schwyzer attempted to follow several of us. Also, he “favorited” a tweet of mine in which I was stating my discomfort about him. After blocking him and expressing my discomfort about his attempt to follow several of us on Twitter, I heard from several other women who have experienced the same thing–having Schwyzer attempt to follow them or retweet/favorite tweets mentioning their discomfort with Schwyzer. This suggests to me that, while Schwyzer may no longer be hurting women physically, he has no respect for women’s boundaries online.

 

Knowing Schwyzer’s lack of boundaries, will you continue to allow readers, many of whom are linking to their blogs and facebook pages in your comments section, or following your writers on social media, to go uninformed about Schwyzer’s past?

 

Also, I am curious what Relevant thinks about these very recent Schwyzer articles (trigger warning):

http://jezebel.com/5875217/he-wants-to-jizz-on-your-face-but-not-why-youd-think

 

http://jezebel.com/5865973/the-real-reason-you-shouldnt-fuck-your-professor

 

Do you really want to direct your readers to this material and do you really want Relevant’s name to be associated with such content?

 

I have created a petition asking Relevant Magazine to please disclose information about Hugo Schwyzer if you choose to publish future posts by him. So far, 72 people have signed. 72 people feel betrayed and uncomfortable thanks to Relevant Magazine. 72 people no longer feel that it is a safe space. 72 people would like to have been informed.

 

You say that Relevant has made an informed choice to publish Schwyzer. Why are you refusing to give your readers that same opportunity to make an informed choice before publishing comments on his articles that contain contact information or before following him on social media? Why do you refuse to give your readers the same amount of grace that you claim to give Schwyzer (though I would argue that enabling a former abuser by not keeping him accountable is anything but grace) by informing them?

 

If you continue to publish Schwyzer’s articles without informing your readers of his past, please know that I will continue to petition and speak out against Relevant. It hurts me to do so because of the positive impact that Relevant has had on my life, but you give me no other choice. Also know that this conversation is being shared and continued by other bloggers such as Dianna Anderson, Elizabeth Esther, and Slacktivist.

 

People don’t feel safe at Relevant anymore. That’s not what Christianity should be like.

 

Thanks,

 

Sarah Moon

 

If you’d like to email Relevant yourself, send your thoughts to feedback@relevantmagazine.com

 

Also, please consider signing my petition to Relevant asking them to disclose Schwyzer’s past to their readers. Every signature equals an email sent to Relevant. At the time of my writing this, 73 people have signed and Relevant has gotten 73 emails asking them to disclose Schwyzer’s past.  Relevant can’t ignore these numbers forever.

Relevant Magazine, Hugo Schwyzer, and a thing called grace

Trigger warnings for rape, abuse, stalking

I believe in a thing called grace.

Really, I do. I believe people can change, and when people change, I believe in giving those people a second chance. But here’s the thing.

Life’s complicated.

Because, sometimes, showing “grace” to one person means denying grace from another.

Here’s an example: You have a child molester who has raped and abused young children. This child molester meets Jesus. Jesus changes said child molester.

Great!

But what if this child molester decides he wants to start coming to church? What if he decides he wants to work in the church nursery with children?

Do you show him “grace” by forgetting his past and letting him do so?

I think you all know the answer to that question.

Now, hypothetical situations aside, we need to talk about Relevant Magazine  and Hugo Schwyzer.

Relevant Magazine, a site that claims to herald progressive Christianity, recently published an article by Hugo Schwyzer. You may not recognize that name, and I doubt Relevant did either when they published his article. But a quick Google search will reveal his disturbing past.

According to Grace from “Are Women Human?:”

Hugo Schwyzer lied for several years about his attempt to kill a woman - on one occasion, falsely describing his attempt to kill his girlfriend and himself as only a suicide attempt that “accidentally” endangered her.

Grace explains more (and provides documentation) in her article here (which I encourage you all to read).

So, our pal Hugo is a repentant abuser.

Now, let me repeat, I BELIEVE PEOPLE CAN CHANGE, and if you skip down to the comments section without reading this whole post and leave me a pat answer like, “God changes people!” I may just have to cry.

But Hugo, a man who has committed very serious crimes against women, is now writing articles at Relevant Magazine about women’s issues. And there are some problems with that.

The first problem is, Relevant refuses to disclose Schwyzer’s past. There was no disclaimer on the article, no mention of his abuse in the article.

Not only that, but Relevant actively silenced voices that informed readers of Schwyzer’s past. 

My friend Dianna Anderson, from diannaeanderson.net, posted a comment that was deleted.

I posted the article by Grace (above) on Relevant’s Facebook page. Not only was my comment deleted, but I was blocked from Relevant’s Facebook page, even though my post containing the article contained no profanities or hateful words.

Several of my twitter friends then tried posting the article to Relevant’s page. Their comments were also deleted.

If you can’t see why this is a problem, let me remind you of the hypothetical scenario that I mentioned above–if there was a repentant child molester working in your church nursery, wouldn’t you want to know about it?

Similarly, I, as an abuse survivor, would like to know that the man writing articles at a once-trusted Christian website is a former abuser. I would like to know so that I can be cautious about the comments I leave on his article. So I can be cautious about linking my blog to the article. So I can be cautious about following this man on Twitter.

Yet, people like Relevant writer Max Dubinsky can’t seem to understand this. Dubinsky stated in a conversation on Relevant’s Facebook: “How would everyone here like it if every time you spoke or wrote something, you had to disclose the worst thing you’ve ever done for everyone to hear and read?”

Dubinsky’s comment considers only the feelings of the abuser, and not the feelings of survivors.

And here’s where MY question comes in to play, for Relevant, Dubinsky, and all other Christians who would ignore the concerns of survivors in order to defend former abusers: Who gets your grace?

Because if you can’t see why former abusers should have to disclose their abuse before having an article published on an interactive Christian website, then you have no grace for abuse victims. 

Secondly, this argument isn’t just about Hugo Schwyzer’s past. He continues to write articles that make even a sex-positive feminist such as myself a bit uncomfortable (here’s one entitled ”He Wants to Jizz on Your Face, but Not Why You Think” written in January of 2012).

And, the man has no sense of boundaries. None, whatsoever.

I spent last night in an impassioned Twitter discussion about the recent Relevant Magazine article, and how uncomfortable it made me feel. Several of my Twitter friends joined in to express their discomfort as well.

And as we talked about how nervous Schwyzer made us…

Schwyzer tried to follow some of us on Twitter.

He even “favorited” a tweet of mine in which I was talking about how uncomfortable he made me. It was as if he was saying, “I’m watching you. I see what you’re saying about me. I see how I’m making you feel. And I like it.”

I had a panic attack upon seeing that he’d favorited my tweet, and I cried for about 20 minutes.

And I still wonder, why? Why would a man who has completely changed “favorite” a tweet by a woman that felt uncomfortable reading his articles? Why would a man who no longer wants to hurt women attempt to force his online presence upon women who clearly did not want that presence?

The answer is, he wouldn’t.

Hugo Schwyzer may not be trying to murder women anymore. But he is still deliberately attempting to make them feel uncomfortable. He is still relishing their discomfort. Admitting, via Twitter, that seeing these feelings in women is a “favorite” of his.

Yet, Relevant refuses to inform readers of this man’s past. Relevant continues to give this man an undisputed platform in progressive Christianity.

They do this in the name of grace.

But again I say, who gets your grace? 

“Grace” to abusers at the expense of survivors is not the grace of Jesus.

“Grace” that allows abusers to continue to harm women unchecked is not the grace of Jesus.

This “grace” that Relevant claims to be giving Hugo Schwyzer by publishing his articles and refusing to include a disclaimer about his past is NOT grace to survivors. It is NOT grace to women. And, really, it is NOT grace to Schwyzer to allow him to continue to participate in circles where he is working with the people he once abused without holding him accountable.

Check your idea of grace, Relevant Magazine.

It’s not the grace of Jesus. 

If you are as bothered this whole situation as I was, please sign my petition asking Relevant magazine to include a disclaimer about Schwyzer’s past with any future articles by him. I think it’s a reasonable request that would show grace to survivors and commenters who might be reluctant to have Schwyzer know their information. I also think it may help keep Schwyzer accountable and may dissuade him from further Twitter-stalking episodes like the one described above. The link to the petition is here. Thank you very much. 

Never going back

Trigger Warning for Abuse

I used to be in an abusive relationship.

Once, I broke up with him, and he threatened to kill me for it.

I was in his car, and I told him I didn’t want to be with him anymore. He decided that if I wouldn’t be with him, I  couldn’t be with anyone. So he gave me the choice:

Change my mind and stay with him, or he would crash the car into a telephone pole.

I forced him to take me home that day by threatening him with a crowbar I found on the floor of his car. But there were more threats. And eventually I gave in.

I chose to stay with him, and the threats stopped.

Because he “loved me.”

And as long as I loved him back, he would never hurt me.

No one can stand here and tell me that my ex-boyfriend gave me free will that day. No one will ever convince me that I had a real choice in this situation. My options were stay with a cruel, vengeful man, or die.

No one can convince me that this was love.

In fact, I don’t think any of you would even try.

We recognize this kind of behavior in humans as cruel and hateful. We’d tell our sisters, our daughters, our friends to run from men (or women) like this.

But what if God acts like an abusive boyfriend?

What if God gives us only the choice of a life spent with a cruel, vengeful God or a life spent in hell?

We call that free will.

What if God uses violence to punish those God loves when those people do not love God back?

We say, “God’s ways are higher than our ways.”

Yet we still say God is love.

God is good.

But this God that the Evangelical church taught us to believe in, if this God came to earth as a human, he would have been my abusive ex-boyfriend.

But I don’t believe in that God anymore.

I believe in a different God.

My God did come to earth as a human. But that human didn’t look at all like my abusive ex-boyfriend.

That human was Jesus.

And Jesus loved. Real love–not this controlling, abusive, hate that we’re so used to assigning to God. Real love.

Believe in the vengeful Evangelical God if you want. Tell me I’m wrong in the comments section. I know some of you will.

But I know what it’s like to be in an abusive relationship. I know. And I can tell you what one looks like. A relationship with the Evangelical God? Yeah, that’s abusive, and I’ve escaped that abusive relationship.

I’m never going back.

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