Anna’s Nightmare: How Courtship Makes Things Worse

So, I don’t mean to flog a dead horse by singling out I Kissed Dating Goodbye (IKDG), but I almost inevitably will. The wildly popular Christian anti-dating guide has come under a great deal of scrutiny in the last few years, as those who entered adulthood at the height of its popularity have started to assess its impact and legacy. Its author, Josh Harris, has apologised for the damage IKDG caused to a lot of young people, and is currently undergoing a process of listening to criticism and examining the ways the book caused harm to its audience. Its failings have been widely brought to light and discussed. However, I’m writing about it here because, thanks largely to IKDG, the themes and theories of the what has been called the “courtship” movement (or the “purity” movement), had an impact on lives far beyond its birthplace, the US conservative Christian subculture, even making their way across the pond and into some relatively mainstream UK churches. It’s hard to separate the book from the movement it played a massive role in promoting. Besides which, the story about Anna’s nightmare from IKDG, which I relate below, serves as a vivid encapsulation of the thinking behind the courtship/emotional virginity movements.

So from here on in, there is going to be at least some small amount of horse-flogging. I can’t help that. Because between blows, I wanted to reflect on my own experiences, from my own perspective, having grown into adulthood listening to the rhetoric of the purity movement. And I wanted to write about three concepts promoted by IKDG and the broader courtship movement, (even if the terms they use differ from what I’ve used here): emotional virginity, courtship, and the heart as a finite resource that can be given away.

Emotional Virginity

It was a warm summer’s day and all the girls of the youth group were sitting on the front steps of the church, listening to two women, the youth group leaders. We were receiving a lesson about sex, sexuality, and dating. The boys were somewhere inside, listening to a similar talk from the male youth leaders, except their lesson was tailored towards boys.

I don’t remember much of what was said except from one little story that must have made an impression on me. The youth leader talked about how careful we should be about dating. She told the following tale: Read More

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What Do You Mean?: Justin Bieber, Jabez, and Christianese

So I came across this video of Justin Bieber and his pastor friends at a recent Hillsong conference. Hillsong, for those who don’t know, is a very trendy chain of churches, with a worship band that makes incredibly popular praise music. One of the men featured in the video is Carl Lentz, quite simply the hippest of the current crop of hip pastors, whose Hillsong campus has famously been visited by celebrities like Bieber, Selena Gomez, and Chris Pratt.

Now obviously the video is mocking them, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. However, I’ve shared it here because of the phrase Chad Veach, a pastor (and amateur drummer?), says again and again in various ways starting at 1:17: Read More

Bitter Truths: The Fear of Resentment and the Dismissal of Critics

A couple of months ago, my mum told me that a colleague had confided a shocking secret to her: a man they both knew, who was well-known and respected in our community, had sexually abused this colleague decades ago when she was a child. Although shocked, my mother had believed this woman’s account straight away, and had never doubted it.

I didn’t say so, but my horror at hearing that this man was a child abuser (thankfully now tried and found guilty) was mixed with my pride in my mum for believing the victim. I wasn’t proud of her just because she believed the woman, but also because of the reason she gave for believing: “She came across as a very bitter person.” It might sound odd to say that I’m proud of her for that, but it’s because too often, someone’s bitterness is used as a reason to dismiss them out of hand. An example that springs to mind is that of televangelist Lori Bakker insisting earlier this year that most of the women who participated in the Women’s March on Washington had been abused as children: Read More

Science, Religion, & the Uncomfortable Newsboys

My fiancé and I had a visit this weekend from my aunt. She stayed for three days, during which we took in a few of London’s finest museums. I rate the Imperial War Museum very highly, but the Natural History Museum has got to be my favourite. We managed to spend a couple of hours there, at the dinosaur exhibition and the human evolution exhibition. For reasons I can neither comprehend nor defend I hadn’t ever seen the human evolution exhibition before. It was wonderful. Human evolution blows my mind. I’m amazed by the thought of having a connection to something as familiar, yet alien, as another hominid species; I’m enthralled by the sense of looking something so physically and cognitively foreign, yet seeing so much of myself looking back at me. That feeling is the reason why, when people get to know about cephalopods, they become fascinated by them,and I think it’s also why I love having pets and love learning about animals. As thick with irony as this may be, that feeling is what I always imagine Adam experiencing when he saw Eve for the first time, and declared her to be “flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone”.

Then there’s the great questions of us being here while the other hominid species aren’t. How did we survive and thrive so well while they died out? Should we be proud or ashamed? When and how will we go the same way?

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Shut Up and Think: Prayer as Peace and Prayer as a Gimmick

Three days ago, the centre of my wonderful home city, London, became the scene of a terrorist attack in which four innocent people were murdered and many more were injured. The aim of the attacker was to incite terror, so it was immensely satisfying to visit the city centre the very next day and see for myself precisely how hard he’d failed. London is a huge and resilient city and, as always, the centre was jam-packed with shoppers and commuters, tourists and photographers, buskers and dancing Hare Krishnas. Walking the pavements from Regents Street down to Embankment, I didn’t for so much as a moment remember to feel afraid – that is, until I approached Trafalgar Square. A sliver of anxiety ran through me as I saw that dozens of police vans and personnel in high-viz vests had formed a formidable ring around the iconic plaza, where people had come together to remember the victims. The police kept a protective watch as the crowd observed silence, lit candles, and gave strength to one another.

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Meaning and Morality: Thoughts After Watching the Debate Between Craig and Kagan

I’m a fan of watching formal debate. One of my favourites is William Lane Craig and Shelly Kagan debating and discussing the question “Is God Necessary for Morality?”. I was struck by how poorly Craig argued his case in comparison to his usual performances, but then the loosey-goosey format didn’t seem to play to his strengths. I’d never heard of Shelly Kagan before but after hearing his passionate defence of animal welfare I’ve decided that I probably love him. Anyway, the discussion made me think about some things: Meaning and morality, the priorities we hold, and the different ways I thought about them both pre- and post-deconversion.

At the outset, I have to admit that I might have found Craig’s argument to be difficult to fully comprehend. Craig stressed that his argument wasn’t “life, if it is finite, is meaningless” but rather “life, however long it is, is meaningless if God doesn’t exist”. But he also kept on talking about how our existences are rendered meaningless by the eventual end of everything, and at the same time, he didn’t appear to make a very robust argument that only the existence of God can bring  meaning to human actions. That being the case, I have dealt with his argument in much the same way I might have if he had based it in the idea that “human life is only meaningful if it is infinite” rather than “human life is only meaningful if God exists”. So if what I write appears to be a strawman, it’s unintentional. Listen to the debate yourself before deciding if my characterisation of Craig’s argument is fair. I certainly did intend it to be.

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Where’s the Bar?

After I “came out” as an atheist, I started noticing something about the responses I got from Christians. Here’s the kinds of things people would say:

“How sad that you don’t believe anymore!”

“Doesn’t it make you miserable to think that your life doesn’t have any purpose?”

“Wouldn’t you like to believe that there’s a God who really, really loves you?”

“But Christians are happier than atheists!”

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Why I’m Not a Christian Anymore

It’s a bit of a paradox: people don’t really change, yet we are capable of huge, life-altering changes in our beliefs. I’ve previously written about the change in my beliefs and moral perspective on abortion. The biggest area of change, though, has been in my beliefs about the supernatural.

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Miracles, Miracles Everywhere: An Ex-Christian on Illusionist Derren Brown’s “Faith Healing”

For weeks, I walked past the Palace Theatre in London, wishing I was among the lucky few who would get to go inside and see illusionist Derren Brown’s latest show, Miracle. I’m a big fan of Brown’s and I love the way he seems to blur good old sleight-of-hand with Neurolinguistic Programming, using his explanations of his techniques to simultaneously enlighten and obscure. So I was only too happy to tune in to Channel 4 last night to watch the recorded live show of Miracle.

To my surprise, I’d seen it already.

I used to attend an evangelical, Holy-Spirit-seeking church. In Miracle, Derren (an atheist) takes on the mantle of preacher, healer, and miracle-worker, planting his tongue firmly in his cheek and calling on the Lord for divine intervention in his audience’s health problems. Anyone who has ever seen a faith healer in action would admit that his mimicry of their style and actions is note-perfect. He made headlines today, and blew up British Twitter, by both “healing” a woman’s defective eyesight and temporarily taking away a man’s ability to read. For some people, the show was doubtless just an entertaining diversion. But for me, it brought back a lot of memories.

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This is My Body, Not Yours.

This week, in the UK at least, abortion has been rather prominent in the public consciousness. To kick the week off, Polish women gathered together for Black Monday. They stayed away from work, school, or domestic chores to march against a proposal to further restrictions on abortion, a procedure that is already tightly restricted in their country. At the same time, Irish women are continuing the fight to repeal the Eighth Amendment to the Irish constitution, which equates the right to life of an zygote, embryo, or foetus to the life of the woman carrying it. And then last night, Channel 4 screened “Undercover: Britain’s Abortion Extremists”. Me and my partner watched it together. Or rather, I watched it with great interest while he worked on his laptop, glancing up occasionally.

While he and I have a lot in common, we are also very different people. In the mornings we try to get up in time to have coffee together, always drinking from the same mugs. He uses his “Pantone” mug and I use my “Scrabble” one. I like to think that our respective mugs reflect the major differences between how we process the world: he’s a visual thinker who skim-reads and goes straight for the big picture. On the other hand, I’m the kind of person who searches for details and painstakingly reads and re-reads things. He watches the news every night to find out where we are, and I read books about history and human evolution to find out where we have been. The differences between us, of course, extend into other areas of life, too. He holds some ideas and opinions that I cannot share, and I believe strongly in causes he doesn’t care too much about.

So when he piped up mid-abortion-documentary with: “Want to know what I think about this? What I really, honestly think?”, I got nervous. I didn’t want him to say anything that might upset or anger me or help to cause a rift between us, and since reproductive rights is something I care deeply about, that was a real possibility. Of course I had a vague idea of where he stood on this issue, since a difference of opinion could potentially have real-world consequences for our relationship someday, but to be honest we had never discussed it in much depth. I couldn’t just say “No, thanks, I don’t want to know”, though. I had to bite the bullet and say  “Go on, tell me”. Read More