Category Archives: Issues

Frumps of the world, unite! | Fashionless Friday

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And if you don’t want to be frumpy, if you prefer another look, or if — like me — you want to be free from the tyranny of fashion “rules” and judgy labels, that’s OK too. In fact, everyone is welcome.

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I’ve been thinking of writing a series on the topic of “beauty”. Don’t worry — it won’t be a bunch of beauty tips; the vast sum of my knowledge of that topic could be crammed into one sentence with room to spare. Far be it from me to tell anyone how to make themselves more “beautiful”…or that they should do this. I’m not even going to define “beauty” for you. Instead, all I have to offer are my reactions to some of the beauty messages I encounter, especially in the Christian subculture in America. Warning: there will be venting. And sarcasm. Hopefully, along with that, I will eventually offer some perspective that is helpful or thought-provoking. Or at least will make someone besides me laugh.

This may or may not be the first post in that series.

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While trying to find some non-Amazon reviews for the book True Beauty, I landed on Tim Challies’ blog, where he made the following comment:

Essentially, deliberately looking unattractive is not a good thing.

This was in response to someone taking issue with his previous use of the word “frumpy”, a word usually used to describe attire and appearance that is dowdy, old-fashioned, and unfashionable — in other words, very much out of step with our modern culture’s view of what is “attractive”.

Not to pick on Tim Challies, but I found this message one that we, as Christian women, are constantly bombarded with. His statement raises questions:

Who defines “unattractive”? Or to put it another way, unattractive to whom?

In other words, what if the husband of an ultra-conservative homeschooling mom (the Christian demographic most likely to be labeled as “frumpy”) finds her garb and appearance attractive, cute, adorable — even so irresistible that he can’t keep his hands off her, and hence their dozen children? Does it matter if the rest of the world disagrees with his opinion? But then, why not say, “Deliberately looking unattractive for your husband is not a good thing, but don’t worry about what other people think.” Obviously, especially given the context of his remark, Challies was speaking about what he assumes is a known standard, a definition of “unattractive”, that readers of his blog will agree with.

In reality, when men make such statements, unless they are truly unusual men, they tend to mean “what I assume most people find unattractive, because it’s what I find unattractive.” That is why some men can argue, with straight faces, that physical beauty is entirely a female characteristic, that there is no masculine counterpart, and that a naked man looks ridiculous! (I recently encountered yet another pastor arguing this point and bit my tongue so as not to say, “Dude, I’m sure you look ridiculous naked, but not all men look that way to women, or even to all men.”)

I have not encountered a trend of Christian men urging women, “Think about how you come across to other women. Biblical modesty means not flaunting your wealth with fancy hairstyles and jewelry. At the same time, make sure your appearance is not off-putting. What messages are you sending to other women? Do you appear compassionate and approachable, or do you send out judgmental ‘I have nothing in common with you’ vibes?” In fact, I can’t recall ever hearing any man say something like this. The assumption is that we are supposed to dress for men, that it is their opinion of our appearance that matters.

What is meant by “deliberately”?

I doubt Tim Challies would find me attractive. Let’s face it — most men under age 40 find grandmas unattractive, unless it’s some conventionally attractive woman who just happens to be a grandmother in her 30’s. So maybe my age gives me a free pass: I didn’t deliberately get older, so I can’t be accused of doing something that is “not a good thing”.

But…

At what point is a woman freed from her duty or obligation to be attractive to the arbitrators of such things? Does this apply only in certain settings? Can a younger woman look “frumpy” while on a church camp out, or is that “not a good thing”? Do women need to maintain a minimum acceptable standard of attractiveness all the time?

What if I prefer not to be attractive? What if I hate attracting the attentions of lonely old geezers in grocery stores? What if I am deliberately avoiding their smarmy compliments of, “You look lovely in that color” or “I enjoy seeing a lady in a pretty skirt”? Is that “not a good thing” because supposedly I have a duty to be attractive?

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True story. About five years ago, I found myself at a health food store on Valentine’s Day, shopping for the romantic dinner I was going to prepare for my very ill husband. The pituitary tumor that was shutting down his endocrine system had not been diagnosed yet; doctors were stymied; in desperation, we were trying a draconian elimination diet suggested by a naturopath. That’s why I was standing in the bread aisle, already dressed for dinner, reading the ingredients of loaf after loaf to find one that contained no gluten, egg, or dairy. (I can’t recall what I was cooking or why bread was a necessary ingredient.) I was new to all this, and feeling overwhelmed and frustrated.

That’s when the man greeted me. He looked to be in his 50’s, and he radiated health, no doubt from frequenting health food stores. In addition, he was drop dead gorgeous. I’m not sure what the “drop dead” part of that expression means, but I do know that he was one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. And he was smiling. At me.

For a moment, I thought he seemed familiar. One of my former karate students had a grandfather who looked similar, and that would explain the warm and friendly greeting. So I returned it, extended my hand, and reminded the kind grandfather of my name.

— and immediately realized this was a complete stranger. And that he was way better looking than that kid’s young gramps. 

Then he asked me out. For dinner. That night.

I was so…so shocked, and bewildered, and flustered…and embarrassed that I had been far more friendly than appropriate with a stranger — and had obviously given him a very wrong impression — that all I could do was stammer, “I…uh…I, I don’t date.” I have no idea why I didn’t say. “I thought you were someone else. Thanks for the kind invitation. But I already have plans with my husband. Longterm plans, I hope.”

Luckily he was a gentleman and didn’t add to my awkwardness by persisting. Or maybe he was turned off by my extreme lack of social skills and all around weirdness. He apologized politely for hitting on me (his choice of words) and went on his way.

A week later, an actual real life grandfather of one of my students greeted me in a different grocery store. But I had learned my lesson. He’s probably a complete stranger, and it’s just a weird coincidence he looks like Mr. D, I told myself. So I gave him my best no-nonsense, I-don’t-talk-to-strangers, gaze…which probably convinced him that I’d gone senile and forgotten who he was. But at least he didn’t ask me out. (Not that he would have anyway.)

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I don’t want to give the impression that I think I’m quite the hot babe in the eyes of senior citizens. But I have noticed, in at least one of the stores I frequent, that there seem to be a number of lonely older men who shop for produce mid-morning and need little in the way of encouragement (a skirt will do) to chat me up. Is it “not a good thing” for me to make a conscious effort not to attract them? If a man lets me know that he likes seeing me in my long skirt, because it’s so “graceful”, am I obligated to keep wearing it around him so that I can be his eye candy — or would it be wiser and kinder not to dress in a way pleasing to him, lest he think that means I have a special interest in him?

Because, after all —

Why should a married woman be trying to attract other men?

But wait, Rebecca, that’s not what Challies said. Remember, he commended the book he was reviewing for discussing “the importance of modest dress and rightly showing that clothing is simply an outer reflection of the inner woman”. What he said was:

What you will not find in True Beauty is the all-too-common attitude that frumpiness is next to godliness. You will not find the authors trying to convince you that beauty is a problem, that Christian women ought to be ashamed of the beauty God has given them, that they’d better not do anything to enhance it.

and

Essentially, deliberately looking unattractive is not a good thing.

Yes, Challies did not say, “Try to attract other men”. But he did say that being unattractive (which includes to other men) is not a good thing. So I assume that being “attractive” (definitions: having a pleasing appearance; especially, having a pleasing appearance that causes romantic or sexual feelings in someone; pleasing, charming; sexually alluring) is a “good thing”. I sincerely doubt that he would approve women “causing” romantic or sexual feelings in men other than their husbands, but why am I supposed to concern myself with dressing in a way that is pleasing to other men?

Ah, but Rebecca, you don’t get it. “Clothing is simply an outer reflection of the inner woman” and our appearance should reflect Christ and attract people to Him.

Yes, I know, I know. Supposedly culottes instead of pants will serve as a signpost to Christ. At least that’s what I’ve been told. But, no…culottes are frumpy. Maybe I need to wear t-shirts with Christian messages on them, except so many of them are tacky. Besides, “modest is hottest”, and I should only let my husband see my “smokin’ hot” side. What to do?

Because, of course, as women — they will know we are Christians by our appearance and wardrobe choices, and the way we manage to be attractive in a clean, wholesome, feminine way without ever being “sexy” except in the bedroom. And the first thing anyone thinks when they see an attractive woman is, “She must be a follower of Jesus. I want to follow Him too.” Yeah, it’s all about that. Only it’s not.

Just how attractive do women need to be, in order to do what is good?

And to how many people? And how am I supposed to know — take a poll?

Me: “Excuse me, but I’m trying not to be unattractive or frumpy. Please stop laughing. And it’s mean of you to mumble that it’s a lost cause. I’m serious. People’s eternal lives could be at stake. Do you find me unattractive?”

Dude: “Uh, I hate to be rude, lady, but you’re a nutcase. Leave me alone.”

I know — I can take selfies of myself every morning and let my 300 closest Facebook friends vote whether I can go out in public. Except that 298 of them have better things to do, and the other two are pets. [See note 1.]

Where is any of this in Scripture?

Find me the warnings against deliberate frumpiness. If you can’t, then pass on the challenge to someone else. Meanwhile, I’ll sit here in my unfashionable garb, sans make-up, wearing my sensible orthotic shoes, and not worry my aging little head over whether men other than my husband find anything about me either attractive or unattractive. [See note 2.]

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Notes:

1. Not an accurate number, except for the two pets — not my own — I’m FB friends with. And even they have better things to so than critique my wardrobe choices.

2. I’m not always this frumpy. In fact, I’ve been told I clean up real well.

Why I refuse to participate in slut-shaming | Survivor Saturday

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For starters, what is it? “Slut-shaming” was coined to describe the attacking, criticizing, demeaning, or “shaming” of a girl or woman for transgressing the sexual conduct rules of a particular group. I’m sure anyone who has grown up in America can think of plenty of examples.

But wait, Rebecca, what are you saying? Are we just supposed to be accepting of any and all sexual behavior? Are we supposed to throw all standards of morality and decency out the window? Are you saying that self-esteem and tolerance is more important than obeying God? Don”t you believe in the Bible any more?

Excellent questions, and I will attempt to address them while explaining the reasons for my commitment, before God, not to engage in slut-shaming:

  • The Bible does not command us to engage in slut-shaming. We are never told to respond to sin with gossip, name-calling, derision, mocking, or any other attempts to humiliate and degrade someone. Instead, the Bible says, “Brethren, even if anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, so that you too will not be tempted.” (Galatians 6:1 NASB) Keep that verse in mind, because it is the very antithesis of slut-shaming.
  • Jesus did not engage in anything even remotely similar to slut-shaming. He treated all women with dignity and compassion, offering redemption and reconciliation rather than condemnation. That is why one of the most extravagant acts of worship and loving devotion recorded in Scripture came from a woman described as a “sinner”. (See Luke 7:37-50.)
  • Slut-shaming imposes an anti-Biblical standard. Before you jump to conclusions and exclaim, “Aha! I knew it! Another so-called Christian who thinks it’s OK to run around having sex with anyone and everyone!” — hear me out. First, read a pertinent passage from the Bible:

The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, and having set her in the center of the court, they said to Him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in adultery, in the very act. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women; what then do You say?” They were saying this, testing Him, so that they might have grounds for accusing Him. But Jesus stooped down and with His finger wrote on the ground. But when they persisted in asking Him, He straightened up, and said to them, “He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again He stooped down and wrote on the ground. When they heard it, they began to go out one by one, beginning with the older ones, and He was left alone, and the woman, where she was, in the center of the court. Straightening up, Jesus said to her, “Woman, where are they? Did no one condemn you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on sin no more.” (John 8:3-11 NASB)

Notice who is missing from this story? How could a woman be caught in adultery all by herself? We can speculate what it was that Jesus wrote on the ground, or what particular sins made the Pharisees slink away in their own shame, but what is beyond question is that Jesus refused to participate in such gross injustice. When we act as if women engage in immoral sexual behavior all by themselves, we are perpetuating injustice.

  • If I claim to follow Jesus, I should follow His example. Yes, I fail miserably. All the time. But that is no excuse to respond to anyone — even someone caught in the very act of adultery — in a way that runs contrary to my Savior’s response of, “I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on, sin no more.”
  • Slut-shaming says nothing about the gospel, but everything about my bad attitude towards the target of my accusations. The good news of Jesus Christ is never, “You’re a slut!” I can’t pretend to be enamored and grateful to a glorious God of redemption and reconciliation while withholding that amazing grace from someone else — just so that I can lob verbal hand grenades in her direction.
  • Slut-shaming is demeaning to men. Whether we are venting about the “home-wrecking skank” who ran off with our friend’s husband or fussing about teenage girls “dressing like sluts”, we are saying a lot about our low opinions of men. Apparently the poor, weak dears are slaves to their hormones, which is why we don’t judge them equally harshly for their sexual misdeeds. Everyone knows they are visual creatures, helpless to resist the evil wiles of those slutty seductresses…sorry, I’m not buying it. I refuse to treat men as less than fully human, moral agents.
  • Slut-shaming isn’t about upholding morality; it’s about attacking the character, heart and humanity of someone created in the very image of God. Let’s get off our high horses and stop smugly claiming to “hate the sin while loving the sinner”. It’s easy to hate other people’s sins — why not try hating our own for a change? If we are really honest, though, we have to admit that slut-shaming is personal. We aren’t crusading for decency as much as we are on a vendetta against this particular person — otherwise, why would we be attacking, demeaning, and shaming her, instead of assuring her that she is not her sin?
  • Slut-shaming ignores and perpetuates the deep wounds of broken people. I know some women who take issue with me on this one. “Just because we enjoy a full expression of our sexuality outside of marriage doesn’t mean we are broken or reacting to past sexual trauma. It just means we like sex and we don’t agree with outdated ideas about it,” they will tell me. That doesn’t mean I can toss compassion out the window, ignore everything I’ve just written, and say, “Well, then I guess you really are a slut after all.”

But the thing is, we don’t always know everyone’s story, even if we think we do. And we might be running around with all sorts of misinformation, wrong ideas, judgmental notions, rape myths, and prejudices in our heads. If she really had been raped, she wouldn’t be sleeping around now…She should hate sex, after what she claims…I’ve seen how she acts; she must have been asking for it…She probably seduced that older guy, instead of the other way around…Child sexual abuse victims don’t act that way…Rape victims don’t act that way…Even if she was raped, that’s no excuse for sin…Since we don’t know people’s stories, we may need to keep our mouths shut. We never know the destructive power our words might have.

  • When we slut-shame the survivors of sexual trauma and abuse, we are repeating the messages of their abusers. We are perpetuating the lies told them by the tormentor of their souls. We become abusers as well. If you think I am overstating my case, read Nikki’s story, especially this: “The dead corpse of my soul was surrounded by a body that was good enough to take, but never good enough to keep.” As survivors, until we begin healing, that’s the sort of things we believe about ourselves. That’s the devastating reality of our lives. Sometimes our abuse began when we were so young, that it may have rendered chaste sexual behavior not only seemingly impossible, but an utterly foreign concept. When we comment on someone’s sexual behavior, will we further batter the already battered? Heap shame upon shame? Crush the bruised and broken? Pour salt on their wounds? Or will we offer hope by showing Jesus to them, to each other, to ourselves?

Those are reasons why I purpose, as a follower of Jesus, not to engage in any slut-shaming of anyone. But there is a far greater reason why I hope never to add to anyone’s shame. Jesus, my precious Savior, bore my shame on the Cross. He took all that shame on Himself — the shame I’ve suffered because of my own sins and failures, and the shame I’ve suffered at the hands of others — He took it all. Knowing that, how can I attempt to place shame on anyone else?

Spelling, Indoctrination, Public Schools, and Internet Debates

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As a child, I was an excellent speller, but I hated the subject of Spelling. It was hideously boring, being forced week after week to engage in the most mind-numbing exercises designed to teach me to spell words I already knew how to spell.

In second grade, my frustration caused me to rebel. I began using words in my spelling sentences designed to show how ridiculous it was that I should be pretending to be “learning” anything. For the word “colors”, I used my new favorite word: “The colors in that painting,” I wrote, “were stupendous.” At every opportunity, I threw in the spelling and vocabulary words that I was learning, at home. My attempts to get my teacher to see the error of her ways failed miserably.

In third grade, I would try to force my sentences into stories — not at all an easy task. That teacher didn’t see the light either.

By fourth grade, I gave up. I can remember listlessly scrawling my homework in my spelling workbook day after day. Apparently my scrawling was so atrocious that it outraged my teacher, who called my parents, with the result that I was forced to copy everything into a fresh spelling workbook, only using far neater penmanship. There was a bright spot in all this: in addition, I was finally freed from the tyranny of the spelling curriculum and allowed to create my own spelling and vocabulary curriculum in its place. (Hey, it was the 1960’s.)

I wasn’t necessarily that “gifted” in all my subjects.

As an adult, I have been diagnosed with the inattentive type of ADHD. It has made me wish I could run back to all my teachers, wave the results of four grueling hours of testing in their faces, and insist, “See? I wasn’t lazy, or careless, or stubborn, or stupid! And there was a damned good reason I wasn’t always paying attention!” Some kids, as frustrated as I often was, act out. Some give up entirely.

I was a quiet rebel. One example: on the last day of my tenth grade creative writing class, the teacher asked in an offhand sort of way while dismissing the class, “If anyone has any suggestions to improve this class…?” and I whipped out a spiral notebook and left it on her desk.

That notebook was how I’d vented my anger at having a teacher suck the life out of the thing I did that gave me the greatest satisfaction in life. It was my ideas on how the class should have been taught. Actually, it was far more than that. It was a course outline, with goals and objectives — and almost a full semester’s worth of lesson plans and assignments.

Of course it was wasted on her, and I knew it.

Oh, and by the way, all of my former teachers who used to tell me that I just needed to work harder? You have no idea how hard I worked in your class.

From second grade onward, I was observing, critiquing, analyzing, and silently resisting. I saw the injustices of the system. I saw the absurdity. I saw the emptiness and futility — even at excellent schools with excellent teachers. It was a box. It was a prison.

School robbed me of joy. It crushed me. But I refused to let it destroy me.

And years later, when my first child approached school age — a child who “learned differently” and would have had to have been diagnosed, labeled, and drugged in order to fit into an elementary school classroom — I swore that no child of mine would be served up to the institution until they were mature and strong enough not to emerge as wounded as I was.

I don’t think public school is evil. I don’t think teachers exist to make children’s lives miserable. I had some excellent teachers, whose memories I cherish. (Come to think of it, the really good ones were renegades and rebels themselves.)

In fact, I think many students are well served by the public schools.

But most of you…of us…have been indoctrinated. Unless we have ever questioned the system — and I mean far, far beyond, “Why do we have to take this class?” and “Waah, waaah, that teacher grades so unfair” — we have been indoctrinated. Unless our public school teachers taught that alternative forms of education (some of which look nothing like our notions of “school”) are just as valid if not more so than our education, unless they had us reading authors like John Holt, unless they encouraged us to question whether we really belonged in public school — we have been indoctrinated.

Some of us fought it better than others. Some of us eventually woke up and saw the system for what it is. As long as we think that government-funded institutions of learning are somehow neutral, indoctrination-free zones, where every teacher, administrator, and textbook author has the amazing ability to remain free from personal biases or agendas — we are still drinking the koolaid.

All this came back to me during a recent Facebook debate which, I’m told, finally degenerated into correcting someone’s spelling.

A note to my readers: I have been dubbed The Typo Queen. The spelling brain cells of my youth seem to be vanishing rapidly. In addition, I’m close to being world’s worst proofreader. So feel free to offer me any and all corrections. You would be doing me a service.

But don’t make the mistake of thinking that poor spelling means poor reasoning, or that your spelling prowess makes you somehow superior in intellect. If that’s what you think — or if you think odd grammar, lack of a college degree, and poor proofreading abilities makes someone “uneducated” — you need to get over your indoctrination. Learn about multiple intelligence theory. Face your bigotry and prejudice. Don’t try to squeeze the whole world into your institutional schooling box.

Preaching to myself: faith and politics

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I posted this to a thought-provoking discussion on Facebook:

As we were driving to San Diego for an optometry conference today, we were talking about this issue of Christianity and politics. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to come up with the definitive answer or solution to all our nation’s woes. OK, I’m joking about that last part, but here are some of my thoughts:

1. We can’t look for political solutions to spiritual problems.

2. At the same time, we can’t use that as a cop-out. Political solutions make a HUGE difference — look at the abolition of slavery as a result of men like William Wilberforce working within the political system of his day.

3. Too many Christians (and I’m pointing a finger at myself) have failed in BOTH arenas: spiritual and political. Yesterday was the National Day of Prayer and I didn’t even know about it until last night. I’m not the most informed voter. I’m not writing letters to my representatives or even praying for them as seriously as I should.

4. Too many of us (me too) are lazy, soft, and selfish.

How are we doing on the spiritual battle front? The typical “prayer breakfast” has food, speakers, music — and very little actual prayer. How many of us are on our knees, repenting for our own sins and failures first, and then humbly pleading with God on our nation’s behalf — and refusing to give up? How many of us are allowing God to lead us? How many of us are standing up for true justice and asking God to break our hearts over the things that break His?

How are we doing on the political front? I’m sorry, but sometimes we — as Christians — act and look like idiots. The majority of us don’t even bother voting. We major in the minors and get our knickers all in a twist over stuff like whether the 10 Commandments can be displayed in public schools. We are uninformed and spout off in ignorance…yeah, and I’m looking at myself in the mirror right now. We render ourselves ineffective.

You are right, Isaac, that God in His Providence has placed us here, in this time and place. He has a different calling on each of us. But He has also placed us in positions of stewardship, with responsibilities, rights, and privileges. Am I a good steward of my American citizenship?

At the end of our lives, will we have made a difference? Will we have allowed God to use us for good or will we have wasted our time and talents? Those are uncomfortable questions for me. But I need to ask them of myself…and I need, more importantly, to seek God’s answers.

Sorry if this seemed like a sermon…

I am thankful for the son who started this discussion. He has never shied away from asking hard questions…starting when he was only two. I kid you not. And he’s never been satisfied with easy answers.

So here I sit, with more questions than answers. I’m reminded of that verse: “If any of you lack wisdom…”  If? It’s not a question of “if” — I lack wisdom. Period. God help me. Guide my thoughts and deeds. Use me.

“For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place and you and your father’s house will perish. And who knows whether you have not attained royalty for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14 NASB)

Who knows whether we have been born for “such a time as this”? Will we have the courage of Esther to say, “If I perish, I perish”? What is my life really worth if it accomplishes nothing of lasting significance?