Undercover In Jesusland

While I surely resent him for having written a much-anticipated book while still in college, I also really have to admire Kevin Roose for going undercover at Liberty University in order to write The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University.

In order to better understand Christian fundamentalism, Roose took a semester off from his studies at Brown and took courses at the Jerry Falwell-founded university— including Evangelism 101 and History of Life (a creationist biology course). He took part in extracurricular activities, including dropping in on a support group for chronic masturbators. And, of course, he abided by Liberty’s student code of conduct, which forbids drinking, smoking, dancing, cursing, R-rated movies— and hugs lasting longer than three seconds. Sheesh— I couldn’t LIVE without bear hugs!

What’s interesting, though, is that Roose really did seem to want to understand fundamentalism— not just make fun of it. I always love an open, honest look at the Christian right; after all, one of my favorite films ever is Hell House, a fairly unvarnished documentary about a Texas church that tries to scare people into believing in Jesus.

Not only do these things speak for themselves (like in Hell House, where all you need to know about some of these folks’ worldviews is told by their inability to distinguish a Star of David from a pentagram), they also help people to understand that not all Christians think alike. It’s important, I think, for non-religious folks to be able to recognize that religion in and of itself is not this evil, corrupting thing. When you see nice people doing nice things in these documentary books and movies, you begin to think, "Hey, maybe they're trying to do the right thing, even if they're failing at it spectacularly."

See, religion can be a vehicle for great suffering, like with the Inquisition and the Taliban and all those silly parts of Leviticus that try to insist that wearing garments made from two different types of cloth makes you unclean for seven days. But religion can also be a vehicle for kindness and compassion and social change: my church’s soup kitchen, Desmond Tutu, my husband’s journey from aimless, womanizing party boy to serious, loving, responsible husband and priest.

Yes, religion is a crutch— but the effect it has on the world depends on the one who wields it. In the hands of someone who is already cruel, it becomes a prop for misinformation, for fear, for division. In the hands of someone who loves, however, it supports that love, sustaining a sickening body or a disillusioned heart where nothing else could have managed.

I don’t mean to minimize the evils that have been done in the name of God— those evils are many, and every person of faith should know them and recognize them and work hard to ensure that they never happen again. But I do get tired of hearing that religion is this horrible thing that corrupts everyone it touches. People who misuse religion are opportunists; people who do terrible things in the name of God are using that God as their excuse, not their inspiration. If they didn’t have religion, they’d use something else— government, brute strength, technology.

And so I’m interested to read this book, because it sounds like this guy really understands these things. He really does seem to realize that within Christianity, there are some useful concepts, a few things that DO make the world a better place— love thy neighbor, do not kill, let he who has not sinned cast the first stone.

Roose made an effort to understand the world of Liberty University, and I salute him. If only more conservative Christians would make an effort to understand his world— and the world that us liberal Christians inhabit— we might all be able to find common ground, after all.

And all this makes me want to write a book.