When my best friend told me what “GCB” stood for in the new
ABC hit drama, I wasn’t shocked, but I was offended. The idea that someone
would make fun of those with my faith isn’t a new one on me, but the fact we’ve
reached a place in our society where it is so accepted to do so is still
disheartening. In the push to be accepting of faiths that have been
traditionally pushed aside and degraded, our society must find a loophole to
still have a least favorite. We haven’t welcomed all religions into our arms -
we have simply traded new ones out for the old ones.
Albeit uncomfortable, curiosity got the best of me and I
watched the pilot of Good Christian
Bitches, or as we’ve established, “GCB”. It was, in a word, delightful.
It’s everything you’d hope for in good TV: caddy women, social satire, and a
few good [lookin’] men. For those who haven’t dipped into this guilty pleasure,
the plot revolves around a woman who returns to the community who knew her in
high school as a snooty and popular cheerleader. Now a humble and good-hearted
widow, she finds herself working hard to reconcile with those who remember her
former-self and facing reverse roles with those who now mistreat her. Set in
Texas, there isn’t a one character that doesn’t fall victim to the Conservative
Evangelical stereotype.
But that’s just what it is: a stereotype. Like the
over-the-top characters sketched on SNL, we can remove ourselves from personal
offense because it so obviously can’t be us. South Park was funny not because
we admitted the accuracy of its allusions, but because the humor was so
preposterously offensive that we couldn’t take offense. Entertainment is just
that – a place to deal with raw emotions and life without ever having to face
it in reality.
And yet, stereotypes come from someplace, don’t they? It makes
great late-night banter to poke fun of black men being racially profiled (Ohio
State law professor Michelle Alexander’s work reports that prison has now held
more black men than slavery ever did). And who can deny the endless material
Brittany Spears gives comedians (Peggy Orenstein writes, “Brittany embodies the
predicament of ordinary girls writ large. They struggle with the expectation to
look sexy but not feel sexual.”)? And then there’s all the great celebrity
divorce stories (according to the Center for Disease Control, the US holds a
divorce rate of 50%). So, why are we still laughing?
We’re laughing, perhaps, because of the inevitability of the
unsolvable. Listen, I am no opponent of advocacy; I studied charities in grad school
for a reason. I whole-heartedly believe in prevention programs, education, and
bleeding hearts when it comes to social justice and righteousness. But, deep
down inside, isn’t the reason we laugh because we know it’s all we can do?
Don’t we know that at the end of the day the world is still human? Isn’t it
possible that even the purest of humanists, even the most dedicated agnostic
who has no choice but to believe in the possibility of our perfection … don’t
we all know what can’t be fixed? Isn’t that why we must laugh?
I have so often explained to folks that my belief in Jesus
Christ comes from a place not of knowing what I can be or am in Him, but in
knowing simply what I am not and can never be without Him. As rags! As filthy
rags, and I am humbled daily when I realize He is still by my side. My hope is
not completed in knowing that I can pray myself out of something or somehow
transcend my earthly desires and habits. My hope rests in knowing that I can
try my best while I am here – I can advocate and educate and encourage myself
here - but my hope rests in knowing my completion awaits on the other side. It
is in entering His Kingdom that I shall be made whole.
I cannot be fixed. But I can be loved. I can be embraced. I
can be accepted. I can be cherished and blessed. I can be guided to do better. I
can enjoy the company of sweet brethren who know the pains I face and celebrate
their joys with them. I can be told, “It’s going to be okay”, and rest assured
it’s true, even if it’s not today. I can sing praises to the One who made me
and pray to a God that answers me. I can be loved, yes – but I cannot be fixed.
Are you trying to fix someone today? Are you trying to teach
them the love of the Father without beginning with this simple truth, that God
cannot fix them so long as they breathe this air, walk this ground, and bleed
these wounds? Are you busy fixing others as entertainment so that you can avoid
living the harsh reality that you cannot fix yourself? Are you laughing at the
stereotypes of homosexuals, of adulteresses, of thieves, of murderers, of
cheaters, of saints? Is it funny that people hurt, because there’s no place
else to put it? No shelf, no tidy answer, and no place to store it … so you
laugh?
Brothers and Sisters: God is good. He is gracious and He is
faithful to complete the good work in you that He began. But know this: when we
believe His promises are to be revealed in completion on this Earth, we believe
a lie. Take comfort, my friends, when you hurt. Take comfort when you mourn and
when you fall short of your potential. Take comfort when you see what the world
thinks of you and when it makes fun of you for entertainment. You are not a
stereotype, you are a human in dire need of a Savior, and that keeps you in
good company.
