At some point in the midst of my final faith crisis, I decided that I needed to spend more time around evangelical women.
I had gotten the idea in my mind because of the phrase “guard your heart”—a line taken from Proverbs 4:23. It was interpreted by purity culture to mean that having a crush was dangerous, and since I was only supposed to have crushes on men, that meant that men were dangerous. I thought that spending more time around evangelical women would render my heart safe, make some space in my mind for God and allow me to work through my doubts.
I started going to a church in Brooklyn, one that was around the corner from my apartment, and I found myself a strictly women’s “Life Group” (aka, a Bible study where people “do life together.”) I went to the first meeting and was encouraged by the honest conversations everyone was having about their doubts, some similar to mine, about theological discrepancies and how we could trust that the Bible was infallible.
They also had similar anxieties to me. All the women, like me, were single. All the women, like me, were waiting for some reasonably attractive dude to come along and do the thing our churches taught us was his birthright—ask us out, pursue us. All the women, like me, were pissed off that we had to stand in this metaphorical gym class line and wait to be picked for these teams of two if we ever wanted to just have sex.
I liked this Bible Study because, like me, everyone was depressed, and no one was afraid to talk about why.
These women were, in many ways, beasts of the highest quality—self-proclaimed “feminists” in an evangelical world that looked down on any use of that word. They had voted for Obama, were pro-immigration, wanted gun control now despite what their evangelical relatives thought. They questioned the idea that women weren’t allowed to be pastors and wondered out loud about the roles that our gender, apparently, dictated for us.
One time, after church, we went to brunch with a bunch of people. The topic of dating came up, and a man voiced his opinion.
“If a woman asked me out, it would rob me of my manhood.”
My Life Group women went wild. They questioned this man like he was testifying before fucking Congress. They put him on trial over mimosas and eggs and told him that his views were sexist. Why shouldn’t a woman ask him out? Was his manhood that fragile? Could a simple question really tear it apart, a mere expression of emotional autonomy from a person of the opposite sex?
In a time when my faith was falling apart, they helped me feel like there was a place for my doubts. There was a place for my questions, for this anger growing inside of me, for the part of my chest that was beginning to puff whenever the pastor at our church took the pulpit.
And then, one of our members told us that she was having sex.
Her name was Jenna, and she met the man she was sleeping with at the gym. She started the conversation by saying that she was questioning whether or not she wanted to keep seeing him. She was shy about it, admitting the sex, but also bringing up the fact that he did drugs recreationally. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, and was overall very confused.
No, the Life Group resolved. Hands down, no. She should not be having sex with a non-believer. She should not be having sex with anyone she wasn’t married to. She needed to end this because of the sex. It would be hard, but we needed to pray for her.
Jenna started crying and we went to her side of the room. We put our hands on her and I felt the sweat on her back, the shake of each sob. And in that moment, I stopped feeling safe to question my faith with those women.
*
There is a root belief of evangelicalism, and it dictates theocracy. Jesus Christ died on a cross to atone for humanity’s sins, and no one goes to heaven without believing that indisputably happened. There are other takes in the faith system—many that evangelical leaders debate as “secondary”—but this central belief colors every one of those.
We hold the truth about creation and the universe. Every other faith system is incorrect, and all will be condemned to hell after death if they do not grasp and spiritually buy into this version of events.
While it’s unpopular amongst the white male powers-that-be in the movement, evangelicals can identify as feminist. They can decide to be LGBTQ+ affirming. They can be anti-Trump and pro-immigration and advocates for gun control. But this root belief of spiritual exclusivity, of everyone who doesn’t believe what I do is going to hell, remains. And it’s deeply problematic.
When we take it to its logical conclusion, it means that the world can be run by women and LGBTQ+ people, but they have to be evangelical Christian. We can vote Trump out of office and free the people that are sitting in concentration camps at the border, but we have to ultimately convert them to evangelical ideology. We can have a completely progressive-looking world, but no one can be Muslim or atheist or Buddhist or anything other than Jesus-praising, Jesus believing.
It’s not inclusive. It can’t be. Evangelicalism, is fundamentally, exclusive—no matter how progressive it may try to make itself look. It can embrace progressive ideals, but that progressivism will always have a limit, be it beliefs about sex or purity or the very nature of what makes someone’s spiritual experience true.
It is still fundamentalist. It is still chains. It can wear a pink pussy hat and protest with everyone else at women’s marches, but it still wants spiritual dominion—it still wants to convert everyone there. It still has an agenda.
At its core, it is built to continuously strive towards theocracy.
I say this all because I want everyone to understand how nuanced evangelicalism is. I want to break down the stereotype of the soapbox preacher and the Westboro Baptist picketing bigots. Evangelicals do not always look like bigots. Most of the time, they blend in, because they know that their fundamentalism is a turn-off.
Get to know the people around you. Ask questions. And remember the root of it all.
Make sure you know what people really believe about what it means to be free. If it involves atheists going to hell, then it’s not freedom.