The Problem of Separatism by Stephen Legg

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about separatism.  I was first exposed to the idea four years ago while I was working on my undergraduate thesis.  At that time I was researching the theology and worldview of Puritan separatists who were willing to uproot their lives and families to move to the isolated wilderness of the New World in order to distance themselves from Christians who didn’t believe precisely as themselves.

I realize that the way I just described their intentions is not the way we usually tell the story.  We usually begin with the story of their persecution and delve into the heroism of an oppressed people who were brave enough to cross an ocean to practice their faith.  But there are other ways of looking at their separatism. 

For one thing, in their writings, the Puritans made clear their belief that they were being led to the New World as though it were an early-modern era Promised Land.  They compared themselves to the captive Hebrews of Egypt, being led to freedom in a land they had not previously known (a belief that was later adopted by many African-Americans Christians and lingers as theology in black churches today).  Today’s successors to Puritanism, conservative evangelicals, largely dismiss that theology.

Today, separatism doesn’t have the same meaning as it did for the Puritans, but it has similar results—a removal of Christian believers from one another and from unsaved and unchurched non-believers.

Now, there is a sense in which this is a good thing.  We are called to be different from the World, and commanded not to partake in its sins.  By maintaining a separation—by keeping our social and family lives within the safe confines of our churches—there is the hope that innocence will be preserved and the painful ugliness of sin might be staved off for another day.  It is good to desire these things, as it is good to “fellowship with the saints.”

But all too often we Christians tend to fellowship with the saints at the exclusion of loving our neighbors—our sinful, lustful, cursing, adulterous, homosexual neighbors.  We don’t want the careless sinfulness of these neighbors rubbing off onto us or our families.  We want to protect ourselves and our loved ones from sin.  We also don’t want to give the appearance of evil by associating with those who practice evil.  Again, these are good desires.

With the above in mind, I keep asking myself whether there are gray areas between separating from the world and socializing only with the church and engaging with the World so much that there is no apparent difference between a believer and a non-believer.  Those are the extremities that have been defined by many conservative evangelicals today.  I believe we have made this separation too extreme, too black and white.

Sin is a non-negotiable to a follower of Christ.  But so is separation from sinners.  One of the ways that Jesus came under severe scrutiny from religious leaders was his willingness to spend his time in the homes of sinners and outcasts from the religious community.  Yet, in all of the time he spent with sinners, he never sinned himself.  A separation remained, but it was not a physical or social separation.  The separation was the “bent” of his worldview and his intention.  Jesus truly loved the sinners but all the while kept himself from partaking in their sin.

I argue that we ought to follow the example Jesus set for us by befriending our non-believing neighbors, by truly loving them and sharing the joy that we have discovered for our own lives, by mourning with them and caring what is going on deep within their hearts. 

Certainly, there will be risks for us, temptation looms around every corner.  But as believers, we have the Holy Spirit to guard us against temptation.  We have a different outlook and a source beyond ourselves to draw upon.

In a world that is increasingly hostile to Christianity, we are fooling ourselves if we believe the lost are going to wander into our churches and small groups.  If we are going to bring the love of Christ to our neighbors, we are going to have to go to them—not handing out tracts and bearing condemnation, but by truly caring and expressing concern, by becoming involved in their lives.

- Stephen Legg

Downtown Abbey: I Watch It, and I'm Not Ashamed by Nate Corley

                Like many American men, I was tricked by my wife into watching an episode of Downton Abbey  a few weeks ago. For those of you who have recently emerged from your Y2K bunkers, Downton Abbey is the smash hit PBS series (no, that’s not an oxymoron) that documents the lives of the wealthy Grantham family and their servants during the tumultuous early years of the 20^th Century. From the sinking of the Titanic to the onset of World War I, the fictional story is firmly grounded in historical events and explores themes of politics, family dynamics, romance, and the erosion of the British class system.

Although I was hesitant to watch the show at first (I was warned by a friend that I’d have to turn in my “man card” if the word got out I was watching this “soap opera for history buffs”), I quickly found myself engrossed in the story. One of the aspects of the show that fascinated me is its apparent lack of a central protagonist; all of the characters receive airtime, and the various storylines are masterfully woven together into one gripping narrative. The superb ensemble cast brings each of these unique characters to life in a way that renders them believable and empathetic. There are no “flat” characters in this show; everyone has commendable traits, and everyone has flaws. I see in these characters the same complex battle that rages in my own soul, where total depravity is just as apparent as the Imago Dei.

No character on this show is more complex than Thomas Barrow, the First Footman of the Grantham estate. If any character on the show can be considered an antagonist, it is Thomas. Whether he is sneaking wine from the family cellar or spreading false rumors about rival staff members, much of the story’s conflict is caused by Thomas’s self-interested scheming.

It is revealed early on in the series that Thomas is homosexual. Even though the vestiges of Victorian propriety necessitate that Thomas keep his sexuality a secret, it appears to be common knowledge among the staff that Thomas is “different.” His employers, however, are ignorant of Thomas’s orientation, and he attempts to keep his same-sex attraction secret from the Grantham family at all costs.

Despite the prominent role this homosexual character plays in this series, evangelical Christians seem to have embraced Downton Abbey in a way they were hesitant to do for other shows with homosexual characters, such as Will and Grace. One man of my acquaintance, a straight-laced conservative Christian with traditional views of sexual ethics, explained his position succinctly: “I don’t have a problem with the gay guy on the show because he’s the bad guy. Really, the show puts homosexuality in a negative light.”

Indeed, the series in no way glamorizes or eroticizes the homosexual lifestyle (this is PBS, after all), and Thomas is certainly “the bad guy” on the show. But is the fact that Thomas is an antagonist really a censure of the homosexual lifestyle?

I don’t think so. Early in the second season of Downtown Abbey, a more vulnerable side of Thomas is revealed.  In a conversation with a wounded soldier, Thomas tearfully explains the pain of being different – of being surrounded by people yet still feeling alone. Thomas feels kinship with this soldier, who faces the prospect of living the rest of his life as an outcast because of his blindness and disfigured face. Thomas is already an outcast; not because of an external wound, but an internal one – the loneliness of living as a gay man in a straight world.

This conversation reveals the source of Thomas’ ill-will toward the other characters on the show: his bitterness springs from a lifetime of mistreatment and rejection. In this way, Thomas the Villain is transformed into Thomas the Victim – a prisoner of his own desires and the prudish sexual ethics of 20^th Century England.

So how should an evangelical Christian –one who holds fast to the biblical witness that homosexual behavior is sin – evaluate Downton Abbey’s portrayal of homosexuality?

 First of all, thoughtfully. To assume that this show promotes the common evangelical understanding of homosexual behavior as “sin” simply because the only gay character is a “bad guy” is misguided and naïve. As the plot develops, the writers of the show clearly seek to present the traditional sexual mores of the day as the “bad guy”: these archaic rules are the reason Thomas is ostracized, and they are the reason he responds with hatred toward his fellow man.

Second, the Christian should respond to this portrayal of homosexuality critically. While it is certainly implied that Thomas’s mean-spirited behavior toward his employers and fellow servants is the result of a lifetime of stifling his sexuality, it could also be argued that both Thomas’s misanthropy AND his homosexual urges are symptomatic of deeper personal problems. Perhaps the real “bad guys” of the show are not the restrictive rules guarding sexual expression, but the father who beat Thomas as a child, the boys who belittled Thomas at school, or even the indwelling sin that has warped every part of Thomas’s  personhood. Although the writers of the show do not leave any of these options available to the viewer, the Christian consumer of Downtown Abbey should recognize not assume that all of Thomas’s struggles would be solved if he were simply allowed to express his sexuality openly. On the contrary, homosexuality (like all sins) is the result of deeper problems – problems that can’t be solved by merely adjusting the standard of morality.

Finally, the Christian should respond compassionately. Too often Christians are quick to dismiss persons who struggle with homosexuality as depraved perverts who have chosen to be attracted to members of the same sex as an overt act of rebellion against God. While their respect of the Bible’s standards of right and wrong is certainly admirable, these Christians seem to have elevated the sin of homosexuality to some special level – more akin to genocide than adultery. Downton Abbey reminds Christians that those who struggle with the sin of homosexuality are people, too – children of God who are just as needy of grace and redemption as anyone else. If Thomas had encountered a compassionate Christian who had introduced him to the liberating power of the gospel earlier in his life, perhaps he would have found the love and acceptance he has been starving for his entire life and would not be bent on making the lives of those around him miserable.

Of course, if that were the case, the show wouldn’t have a bad guy and it would be just about as exciting as all of the other PBS shows that nobody watches. And without viewers like us, where would public television be?

 So, my fellow Christians, go ahead watch Downton Abbey and enjoy your escape to 20^th Century London, but don’t leave your brain behind in the 21^st Century – you will need it to carefully evaluate the complex themes and characters that make the show the show the engaging masterpiece it is.

- Nate Corley