When I was at Evangel University every once in a while there would be a film, art piece, book, music, or an event that would rile up the Christian community into a self-righteous frenzy. We would be called to protest the disgraceful display or expression, because apparently it was offending the very nostrils of God. There would be no questions asked. We were meant to act, not question. And so, being obedient servants, (after all, this is what most pleases God), we would gather at some set location and raise our voices in unison, because this action would inspire God to roll some thunder and strike down the wicked offenders.
And in college dorm rooms, we would discuss the blasphemous display that hurt God's feelings. However, none of us would be able to say very much about what we were protesting, because part of the power of the protest was that we were supposed to remain spotless (i.e., ignorant) in the eye-view of God. Therefore, the vast majority of protesters involved never saw, read, or heard anything. We just knew it was wrong because someone told us to think it, and we were bent on crucifying our enemies and then giving God praise for the victory.
It wasn't until after I finished my time at Evangel that I took the time to see for myself what was so offensive. Some of the banned materials were in poor taste, and it did nothing to edify my spiritual, emotional, or intellectual growth. However, the majority of the banned materials were of some merit, even if it inspired me to derive my own counter-argument or presentation.
I think about how many years I wasted living in fear and bliss, worried about the Great Eye using the Great Hand to give me a pre-flood, Great whipping. I couldn't help but to wonder, why is ignorance so bliss? Why are we afraid to "know"?
I am happy to announce that since I've been doing my shows in schools and other venues, I have become the new protest. I am protested by the same group of Christians, who have the same counsel of idiocy, as I did in my Evangel days. Some of them protest my show, because they heard that I mention the 'H' word. No, silly, not Hell, but homosexuality. And, of course, this means that I am promoting and recruiting their children to be gay. (Side note for the confederacy of dunces: the last sentence was an attempt at humor, a tongue-in-cheek assertion, a concept often used to bring levity where there is gravity). Others protest my show because they are like sheep...who have gone astray...into a slaughter house for the moronic.
In either case, I feel a funny bubbly emotion of enlightenment. I finally know these words by heart: "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first."
