Savage Love

Thanks to the ever-enlightening influence of Biku, I've read two books by Dan Savage in the last two weeks: Slouching Towards Gomorrah: The Seven Deadly Sins and the Pursuit of Happiness in America and The Kid: What Happened After My Boyfriend and I Decided to Go Get Pregnant. Besides his prediliction for titles which are exceedingly long (especially when you have to type them out), he's a good writer. I stayed up until 1:30 in the morning a day before my exam reading The Kid, which should tell you what I thought of it.

I read Slouching Towards Gomorrah first, and I have to admit I'm probably the first person ever to read a Dan Savage book for more than 100 pages without realizing that he's gay. I mean, the man writes an internationally syndicated sex-advice column (which I've read -- it's in NOW magazine, back near the scary advertisements that used to confuse me back when I was young and innocent) and is very open about being gay, and yet I didn't pick up on that for quite a while.

Not that that bothers me. It was just like what happens when you're reading a book and a character you were mentally imagining as black is suddenly described as having "alabaster skin" (yes, perhaps this is a very bad book -- just go along with me here...). It's not a problem, just a shift in perspective.

Anyways, back to Dan Savage, who is equal parts angry (at Republican Fundamentalist Christians), shocking (he is a sex advice columnist, after all), surprising (he isn't just a ranter, but will actually acknowledge when the people he's disagreeing with have a good point), and touching (he's got a way with a story, and a desire to be a good partner and father and person in a way I can admire). And he's funny, too, of course.

The only thing that gets me riled up in this book is, increasingly, the issue that seems most close to me. It's the assumption that the term "Christian" can be entirely equated with words like "Fundamentalist", "Republican", and "Homophobe". I feel an extreme urge to write a long letter to Dan Savage which starts something like this:

"Dear Dan, I enjoyed your books greatly. I think your description of anal sex is really funny, and you have some good points about "the pursuit of happiness" being something we can't circumscribe for everybody according to what makes us personally happy. I think you and Terry make great Dads, and I hope that your son grows up in a world where he feels accepted both for who he is and who his parents are. By the way, I'm a Christian. I believe in Jesus, and I also believe in a woman's right to choose, and your right to smoke pot and have sex with your boyfriend. I may not agree with everything you say, but I certainly agree with a whole hell of a lot more of what you say than what someone like Pat Robertson says. In fact, I'm not sure I agree with anything Pat Robertson says..."

It's a funny tightrope I walk, because I've found people have a lot of trouble equating the me that's a Christian with the me that believes in gay rights and leftist politics. But they're both the same me. However, I increasingly find myself feeling like I have to campaign to make my voice heard, that it's my duty to correct the near-overwhelming assumption that Christianity equals intolerance. But I believe Jesus (if you'll pardon the wholesale appropriation of Dan's column title) practices Savage Love too, and I don't mean the kind of Savage Love that says mostly "You can't..." or "You shouldn't..." I beleive that my faith is not antithetical to, but fundamentally involved in, my support of people like Dan who have been oppressed by society (he may have widespread acceptance within his family and friends, but his account of being 13, still closeted, and so stressed out he has bleeding ulcers, is harrowing reading). I try to love without judging, and while I still have my opinions (Dan's casual account of personal details makes me worry about his kid one day reading things no one should know about their parents), I am certainly no intolerant gay-bashing "true believer".

As a white, straight woman growing up in North America, I haven't exactly run across any prejudice. And, it must be admitted, I still haven't. But I don't like the look people get in their eyes when I tell them a Christian. I immediately go on the offensive, trying to say as many swearwords and casual political statements (So I voted for Jack Layton the other day...) in the next few minutes in order to counteract their assumptions.

I want a world where gay people can come to church without fear of rejection/judgment/people trying to "straighten" them, and getting to that world involves both having some heated debates with my fellow Christians and convincing people like Dan Savage that not all Christians are out to get him.