On July 29, 2010, noted author Anne Rice publicly renounced her dedication to her Roman Catholic faith, yet remained committed to Christ on her Facebook page, stating,
“For those who care, and I understand if you don’t: Today I quit being a Christian. I’m out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being ‘Christian’ or to being part of Christianity. It’s simply impossible for me to ‘belong’ to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’m an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.”She then followed up her original post a few hours later with the following,
“As I said below, I quit being a Christian. I’m out. In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In the name of Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.”
To those of us who share many of Rice’s concerns and qualms about the Church in general, this is a bittersweet moment for us. Forget for a moment that it is impossible to “remain committed to Christ” without being a Christian. The two go hand in hand. Forget for a moment, as Rice has apparently done, that there are far more progressive congregations she could have sought out and joined that would’ve allowed and even encouraged her social and political sentiments, and might well have helped her in championing them.
Forget all of that for a moment and let’s examine where we are as a Church right now. For that, I feel, is the more distressing issue before us. People like Rice should serve as painful reminders that there are serious issues that continue to haunt the Church, and which, sadly, define it in the eyes of many: believer and non.
Those who have read this blog – yes all four of you – are well aware of my deep contempt for the right-wing assault on Christianity that has been going on for quite some time. On several occasions I have toyed with the idea of leaving the Church altogether, such was my disgust for what I was witnessing. It was only after much prayer and discussions with a few members that I decided to remain.
This past February I had published a blog – some would call it a treatise – titled “A Declaration of Sorts” in which I laid out my issues in rather blunt terms. What all but two of you don’t know is that it was originally intended to be a resignation letter, if not from the Church altogether, at the very least from the one I was attending. I had had enough. Like Popeye, I could stands no more. I rewrote much of it and made the decision to stay and fight for my beliefs. I was damned if I was going to let the enemy win this battle. Instead the piece became my line in the sand, rather than a hasty and loud retreat.
I called out not just those who were kidnapping our faith in the name of their narrow political agendas, but also those who seemed unwilling to stand up and say, “Enough!”
“Are not all of us commissioned to speak out against injustice, to stand up for those who are less fortunate, to challenge lies with truth and paranoia with reason, to act as Paul did when he rebuked James? Did not Jesus rebuke Peter? Did He not love him nonetheless? Why are so few of us willing to stand our ground when presented with the unalterable conclusions of our lot? Are we exempt simply because we are church elders, senior and associate pastors, small group leaders, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, doctors and nurses, lawyers and bankers, athletes and journalists, politicians and statesmen, salespeople and consumers, professors and students? What is the level of our comfort that keeps our mouths shut when our spirit cries out in anguish? Is our new suit too delicate to be soiled if only just a little? Perhaps a new car, the mortgage payment, or the children’s tuition hangs in the balance. What reputation is it we seek to protect when God’s people cry out for justice and we turn away? Did Jesus care about his reputation or his ministry?”
I ripped away, caring not whose feathers I might be ruffling; drawing a line in the sand and daring anyone who cared to cross it. Sadly, Anne Rice chose to cut and run, and for that I am angry. Not at her, but at the rest of us. For no sooner had she made her announcement than the throng of religious zealots descend upon her and ostensibly ripped her to shreds for bailing out on her faith.
A friend of mine, Scott, wrote on his facebook page, “I don’t mean to be harsh toward Christians, but when people give up on the Christian community, I think Christians should start, not by criticizing them, but by listening to them and by looking at themselves.”
Well put Scott, but if you are somehow adverse to being harsh, allow me please to take the hammer from you and continue. There are times we couch our feelings to protect and nurture; and then there are times when only brute honesty will suffice. This episode begs for the latter.
It is my contention that we do the cause of Christianity a disservice if we focus on Anne Rice as being the issue here. Instead what all of us should do is take a step back, examine those reasons for her decision, admit that, however painful it might be, there is some validity to her charges, and then do all we can to ensure that, at least as far as we're concerned, we won't let the corporate cancer that is eating away at the foundations of our faith claim more victims. And make no mistake about it, it IS a cancer!
I remember after the '04 election I was having a conversation with a couple of co-workers, both of whom were Jewish. They couldn't believe Bush had been re-elected and they were outraged at the connection between the religious Right and politics in this country. This was my first exposure to the concerns that non-believers had over the encroaching right-wing ideologues that were speaking on behalf of the faith I held near and dear.
I spent the next half hour explaining to them that as a Christian I too was embarrassed and offended by those people who were speaking on behalf of my faith and claiming a moral superiority. I also told them that not every Christian was a fanatic hell bent on rewriting the Constitution and forcing Christianity on those who didn't believe in it.
You see, I think part of our problem is that we think too much like we're in a box. We suffer from tunnel vision. We don't see what others see; hence we are either taken by surprise by it, or act indignant to it. How could Anne Rice leave us and abandon her faith? How about, How could we have abandoned our moral compass and allowed our faith to be hijacked? See what a little perspective can mean to a discussion?
I think there are a lot more Anne Rice's out there, and a lot more who will never get as far as she did. In other words will never get to know the Lord at all. And mainly because we as a Church, corporately, have chosen to abandon the very principles that Christ stood for and opted for a bunch of slogans, political agendas, and catch phrases that may get a few officials elected and may even overturn a few laws we don't like, but in the end will do more harm than good. And for that I am deeply angered. In fact, I’m pissed!
Anne Rice’s defection from Christianity should serve as a wake up call to all of us. It is time we got up off our collective asses and reclaimed the Church Peter started over 2,000 years ago. We should stop worrying about our good manners and good reputations. We should be as protective of our faith as a business owner is of his merchandise. More so, for our reward is not measured in dollars and cents but in our eternal rest with Him who sent us.
Whenever anyone, anywhere either leaves the faith or decides not to join it and the principle reason is due to the message they get from the modern-day Pharisees who have chosen to speak on our behalf, we are all guilty of driving the bus they’re on out of town. And woe to all of us for allowing that to happen! Do not think for a moment that we will not be called to justify ourselves before God when our time comes. Their souls are our souls!
This is the question we should be asking ourselves. If Christianity were a department store, would we or anyone else want to shop there? Or for that matter would we buy anything there? If the answer to both is not unequivocally “yes” then we must be honest and say, “Houston we have a problem!”
