Last night at youth group, the kids and the leaders watched the last thirty minutes of the presidential debate together. Happily, this was not something that the two adult leaders (myself and a co-volunteer) imposed upon them — it was the choice of the youth, and one we were pleased to honor. (Tangentially, I notice a much higher level of political engagement among both my high school and college kids election than in 2000. That ought to be encouraging for everyone, regardless of party.)
There were about 20 kids in group last night, and almost all of them were commenting irrepressibly throughout the debate. (Lots of ineffective “shushing” from me.) Not surprisingly, the comments were entirely pro-Kerry and decidedly anti-Bush. All Saints Pasadena is indeed a liberal community, and while we are racially, economically, and sexually diverse, we are politically almost monochrome. Only one child admitted to having even one parent who was voting to re-elect the president, and he hastened to say that he agreed more with his other parent, who was voting for Kerry.
After the debate was over, we turned off the TV and opened things up for discussion. Though I share my kids’ basic political views (and I thought Kerry was a clear and convincing winner of at least the final third of the debate), I admit to being troubled by their intolerance of conservatives. I asked them how many of them had gotten into arguments with friends or family members over the election, and just over half of them raised their hands. We then launched into a serious, thoughtful, and very productive discussion of how to handle “disagreeing in love.” We talked at length about the importance of seeing other people’s opinions as valid, even when we find those opinions offensive. It’s critical that the kids see that true liberalism involves a constant receptivity to others, and that progressive Christianity (a phrase often bandied about at our church) has tolerance of others — even conservatives — as one of its core principles. I asked them “how do you think Jesus would want you to talk to people with whom you disagree?”; I got some terrific responses.
A few years ago, I regularly attended services at Pasadena’s largest non-denominational evangelical church, Lake Avenue. (This was while I was on the Vestry at All Saints, actually.) I got to know one of the many pastors there, and he and I had some preliminary discussions about a goal of mine: getting the high school youth from one very conservative and one very liberal church together to work on a service project. The idea would not be to have debates over homosexuality and salvation — the idea would be to put Christian love into action with folks that we are accustomed to thinking of as “the enemy.” We talked about various volunteer works that we could do as a team, and we had some brief exchanges on what we hoped our “kids” would get out of it. But we both lost touch, and not long thereafter I went on my two-year sojourn into the Mennonite Church.
Last night, I approached the All Saints youth with the idea. Somewhat disappointingly, most of them were — initially — flatly opposed. “Conservative kids hate us”, one said. “They don’t think we’re real Christians, and that makes me so angry” said another. “They think we’re all gay!”, said a third. “They’ll tell us we’re going to hell”, said a fourth. “It’ll never work — we’re too different”, offered still another. But I persevered, trying (somewhat manipulatively) to get them to see that their fear and their intolerance contradicted their professed values of love, outreach, and inclusion. Again, I snuck Jesus into it: “Would Jesus want you to hang out with the kids from a conservative church, or would he tell you to avoid them?” The kids were trapped!
The issues are charged. Three of the kids in youth group have at least one openly gay parent; one is being raised by two fathers. It is imperative that these children be emotionally protected from bigotry. They deal with enough at school, and I’ll be darned if I want to expose them to more through the church. But I feel — and many on the staff feel — that some of the most valuable outreach work that liberal Episcopalian kids can do is with their counterparts in the evangelical world.
The temptation for both sides to see the other group as a “mission field” will be tremendous. Ground rules would have to be established to ensure a basic level of civility and respect. But I think I’ve got my kids excited at the prospect, even as they are also a bit scared too. I want to make sure they are emotionally and psychologically protected — but I also want to make sure that they are spiritually challenged. That’s a fine line to walk, but I am optimistic we can do it.
I’ll be in touch with my Lake Avenue contacts soon. But if any of my readers are associated with conservative churches and youth groups in the Los Angeles area, and think they might know of some kids who might be similarly interested, have them drop me a line. Perhaps a day of feeding the homeless in downtown LA? An ongoing tutoring program with elementary schools?
We are a bitterly divided nation. We are also, as Christians, living in a divided body. Many of us on the Christian left find we have more in common with secular liberals than with our own fellow Christians on the right. Many right-wing Christians feel more in cultural solidarity with conservative non-believers or practitioners of other faiths than they do with us. While that is understandable, I think it reflects badly on all of us.
I am a liberal Democrat on (almost) every issue. I’m an Episcopalian with pacifist anabaptist leanings. I teach gender and gay history. I went to Berkeley. But for all that, my life is made both richer and more challenging by my friendships with folks with whom I disagree about almost everything. (One of the men I love best in the world is a true Five Point Calvinist, bless his misled heart!) I thank God for my friends who are gun-ownin’, traditional marriage defendin’, inerrant scripture believin’, red-meat eatin’, Fox News watchin’, George Bush votin’ conservatives. I’m a better man for knowing them and being loved by them. They have not changed my core beliefs. But they have softened my heart and tempered my self-righteousness — and those are good things indeed.