Monday, April 10, 2006

Last night, I had a very enjoyable (and unexpected) chat the friend of mine who tried to kill herself a week and a half ago. She was more melancholy, more sarcastic than usual . . . and she told me what was going on.

I don't feel I'm at liberty to share what the issue is, but suffice it to say I was glad to see her in person and glad to see that she was emotionally stable.

What I want to talk about today is a little word one often hears spoken in evangelical Christian circles called "accountability." Accountability groups (and accountability partners) have become popular within evangelical Christianity over the past several years. The concept is quite simple--men pair (or group) with men, and women pair (or group) with women, in settings conducive to the discussion of personal, private issues (such as sexuality, home life, etc.). Most men think it's a wonderful concept because it allows them to talk frankly about their lust for women without risking social or relational embarassment.

My first encounter with an accountability group occurred shortly after I joined TCU's chapter of Chi Alpha (which was then run by the since shamed and defamed James Stalmaker). I was invited to join an "empower group" meeting, and when I got there, I was quite impressed (and surprised) at what I experienced--this was a student-led Bible study group that involved a time of prayer and worship, then a time in which students were taught important concepts from the Bible. I enjoyed it--I enjoyed the atmosphere, the men and women I met, and their faith and honesty.

At the end of the Bible study, the male and female leaders announced that we would gather in small groups (men with men, women with women) to talk about how our week was going. It made me a little nervous--but I figured that since I had already stayed for the orchestra, I might as well stay for the final notes. :)

I remember the men taking turns (in a circle) sharing what they were feeling and struggling with that week. Aside from the first person (who probably was going for the first time himself), all the men in the group spoke about masturbation--and all of them spoke about it as if it were something to be ashamed of. (To give you a sense of where I was, I actually found the session to be quite liberating because it was the first time I had heard Christians (and Christian men) talk so openly about their fantasy lives and what they felt about their bodies and sexualities.)

Meanwhile, the cadre of very eligible (and very attractive) young women who attended the small group with them (and attended the Chi Alpha meetings) constantly complained about not being able to find anyone willing to date them.

As the weeks and months passed, I began to find these meetings more depressing than liberating. I would constantly hear other men talk about masturbating once a week, getting horny (and frustrated) at all of the women at TCU who dressed so provocatively during the spring and early fall seasons. (BTW, side note--TCU has been listed as one of Playboy's top 10 universities for several years.) I would constantly hear stories of defeat and futility and shame--and men who, in many cases, were too repressed to engage in healthy relationships with women--or who eventually preyed upon the first co-eds they saw.

It began to hit me, especially after failing in some significant relationships of my own with women (and wondering what the hell happened) that I wasn't getting very good relationship advice--and certainly not getting very good sexual advice.

(In some ways, it really was like the stereotypical high school bad boys' sex talks in the locker room, except in reverse. The sex talks may have been conducted by Christians (with Christian themes and values represented), but they exhibited equal parts braggadacio and ignorance, just like their more secular counterparts.)

In the wake of these experiences (and many others), I have come to realize that "accountability" is a concept that is misunderstood in evangelical circles. To be "accountable" to someone means to be beholden to them in some way--for example, a citizen is accountable to follow the laws his government enacts (and pay her taxes), and a bank teller is accountable to her supervisors for the content of her records and her professionalism. I am accountable to the head of the TCU Center for Writing for my performance as a writing center tutor, and they are accountable to me for my paycheck.

Accountability, in other words, is a business concept--it has nothing to do with Christian-on-Christian relationships.

Am I accountable to my brother in Christ for having a bad attitude, or a disreputable personal life?

No--I'm accountable to God, and whoever is directly involved in my actions, and no one else. It is not my brother in Christ's business to know who I date, how many times I masturbate, and how many men's (or women's) magazines I have unless I choose to tell him--that is personal information, and doesn't concern him (unless it involves his daughter or someone he knows). If I'm not pursuing a relationship in the "correct" way, that's my responisibility, and the responsibility of my partner.

Honestly, I think a lot of churches resort to accountability groups because of the superficiality of their internal relationships. After all, everyone knows that the last place anyone should be honest about his/her desires and beliefs is the church, and therefore, a lot of people (when they come to church) hide who they really are, out of fear that others will find out (and ostracize them). I have shared with people I know online (and in real life) that some of the closest, most intimate friendships I've had have been with non-Christians--and I think this is a phenomenon to which a lot of people can relate.

Friendship . . . it's an ugly word to a lot of people. Friendship involves love, compassion, time and energy, and most of all, intimacy.

This is what people are looking for when they walk in the doors of a church, or a student ministry, or a Bible college. They're looking for someone to take an interest in them, and accept them for who they are, and say things like "I love you" and "I care about you."

Christianity's greatest Achilles' heel is that its promised riches are love and mercy . . . and its realities (so often) are pain, brutality, and condemnation. People see what Christianity is supposed to be (according to the Bible), and they see the waste, heartache, and bloodshed of what Christianity has been--and to them, the reality gives the lie to the greater truth pronounced in those Bible pages.

Friendship is something that cannot be based on rules or artificial circumstances (after all, do any of you recall deciding who your best friends would be?)--it has be based on sincerity, and a connection of the heart. If we cannot muster the capacity to be each other's friends and loved ones . . . then I seriously doubt that our Christianity (whatever kind it may be) is worth a damn.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home