The Subversive Art of Reading

The Dangers of Not Reading

The conversation began this way: “Pastor, we have got to distribute these warning fliers this Sunday.  All of our freedoms, especially our freedom of religion, are in jeopardy!”  This well-meaning church member was obviously concerned, judging by the look in her eyes as she grasped the rubber band bound stack of fliers in her hand.  “Leave them on my desk, and I will take a look,” I said.  Over the years, the church board and the entire congregation knew that this had become my policy.  I take seriously the idea that whatever the church distributes or shares in some ways represents the church.  Not only did I read the fliers, which at first glance seemed overly alarming: big red letters, emotional appeals, and “slippery slope” arguments with no direct quotations of the forthcoming legislation in question.  It was that last part that really got my attention.  None of these expert legal and/or religious minds were actually engaging the legislation they were attacking, although there was plenty of negativity and emotional appeal against key state legislators whose track records had not exactly earned them the favor of most Christian voters like those in my congregation.  But the obvious absence of direct encounter with the legislation in question caused me to do something that I was to learn was both revolutionary and even subversive: I went online and actually read the entire legislation! 

To my surprise and dismay, there was nothing in the proposed legislation that even came close to the horror stories that the so called experts from this Christian source had gotten my church member and many like her all stirred up about.  While it was true that there were things in the proposed legislation that people of good conscience could have serious disagreements about, and it was also true that some of those proposing the legislation had a track record of going against certain things that many of my fellow Evangelical Christians were opposed to, there simply was nothing in the legislative proposal that seemed to merit the panic and foreboding that generated the stack of fliers now resting on my desk.  In short, this particular organization seemed to be playing upon fears and upon the disconnection already earned by certain legislators to forward an agenda that actually had nothing to do with Christianity or religious freedom.  I simply slid the stack of fliers into the garbage can.  More about that later.

Learning to Read

I have often credited several people for teaching me to read.  Of course, my parents, grandparents, teachers,  aunts and uncles, who early on surrounded me with books and read to me had a great deal to do with the beginnings of my journey into reading.  When I entered Christian ministry, reading took on a new dimension for me.  In fact, there are a couple of seminary professors – particularly my first systematic theology professor – who really taught me to read.  What I mean is: this professor and others like him emphasized that being a minister of the Gospel has always included the responsibility of being a continual learner, not just for the sake of my own enlightenment and education, but also for the sake of leading others into a faith of depth and real meaning.  Reading for me became more than a diversion or even a bother: it became a part of my calling.  My professors made sure I had plenty of it to do!  But in  doing so, and in being challenged to read in ways that explored and interacted passionately as well as analytically with all kinds of works, reading took on a different dimension for me.  I learned that reading could be – and sometimes should be – a struggle, an adventure, a pleasure, a painful interaction, and sometimes a combination of all of these, and that this was alright. 

To this day, I tell the students I have been privileged to work with in the past fifteen years or so that my goals as their instructor are not just about learning the course materials, but also learning to read in such a way that you will never be able to look at any book or pamphlet the same again.  Nor will you ever be able to simply “take someone’s word for it” without studying to “show yourself approved,” echoing Paul’s words to Timothy in the New Testament.  Reading became both an ethical responsibility as well as a revolutionary – even subversive – part of my calling to be a Christian minister.  Of course this implies that I am to lead others into this kind of revolutionary journey, which puts me at risk of being confronted about my own interpretations.  I have learned and embraced the fact that this is part of that “iron sharpening iron” that the Bible speaks of. 

The Potential Cost of Reading

Subversive reading includes reading for enjoyment: reading things that excite and challenge us.  It also includes reading those things that challenge and even aggravate us in a way that temporarily suspends our own disbelief long enough to honestly engage where an author is coming from.  We then re-engage our Spirit led analysis and are then in a position to filter out some aspects of what we have read and cling to other aspects.   Of course, sometimes this subversive call to read means that we no longer simply believe the television and radio personalities and take initiative to engage for ourselves.  Unfortunately, this seemingly logical and simple act can be the most subversive of all to some: especially those who want so much for something to be true that they will forgo reading or analyzing something that may conflict with the narrative they prefer.  As Christians, especially as Christian pastors, I really do believe that we have a responsibility to lead those around us beyond this simplistic and neglectful way of approaching reality.  But there can be a cost to this.

In the case of the church member I mentioned above, the “cost” for me was their decision to leave my congregation.  Later in the week when the woman who brought the materials followed up with me and this time not only wanted me to share the fliers but also set aside some time in the worship hour to bring these “grave matters” to the attention of the congregation. 

I told her that I had indeed looked not only at the fliers but had also read the supposed “dangerous” legislation, and I saw a real disconnect between what the fliers claimed and what was actually true.  She looked at me as if I had torn a Bible up right in front of her!  “Pastor, don’t you care about Christian values?  Don’t you care that the very freedoms we value are going to be taken from us if we don’t help motivate fellow Christians to vote this down?”  I said, “I do believe in Christian values.  An important value in Christianity is honesty, and I feel that if I distribute the flier it would be dishonest.  It may be that the legislative bill is not the best one for lots of reasons, but I have read it.  I have even read what other Christians have said about it, and I am convinced that this campaign to defeat it has nothing to do with Christian freedoms or religious values and is simply about garnering political influence for the organization that sent them.  If they can get well-meaning people afraid, then they can get them to give to ‘the fight,’ even though in this case, there really is no threat to freedom or to Christian theology.”  I urged her to vote for whatever legislation she wished, and to privately urge others to do so.  But I could not in good conscience make this a church matter.  The church, I told her, has bigger fish to fry.

In her request for membership transfer to a larger and more politically activist church up the road, she expressed her disappointment that I did not care enough to speak out for "Christian values" and those things which threaten them.  In my phone follow up with her, she and I actually parted gracefully.  I did ask if she had ever gotten around to reading the actual proposed legislation.  She paused and then said: "Pastor, this organization got several experts including high paid lawyers to do that for us, and I trust their interpretation."  I hung up the phone with chuckling to myself, "Who would have thought the simple act of reading could cause so much trouble?"  Maybe Jesus, whose first hometown sermon consisted simply of reading the Isaiah scroll promising a Day of Jubilee, folded it up, and subversively said: "Today, this has been fulfilled in your midst," just before almost getting thrown off a cliff(!), chuckled too.