Category Archives: Standards

Standards

Self-Realization

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Age 2 minutes: Welcome to the world, little one! And welcome to fundyland! In three days you’ll be in a fundy church nursery for the first time.

Age 5: I don’t really know anybody but fundamentalists. Well, there is that one weird kid in kindergarten who brought a Transformers lunchbox that day and got yelled at by the teacher. He doesn’t go to our church so the rest of us don’t really play with him.

Age 11: Oh, it is wonderful to be a fundy! Any interactions with the lost usually consist of telling them why they’re so much more sinful than we are. My parents usually wear an odd mixture of pride and horror when I’m loudly telling the waitress at Olive Garden why we don’t drink wine like those people at the next table. I’m so glad I know all the answers to everything.

Age 15: Reality has begun to creep in a bit. Family reunions and neighborhood friends provide brief glimpses of those outside the fundy bubble and it is both fascinating and terrifying. I’m starting to realize that everyone else is “normal” and I’m the weirdo. Sometimes I feel the urge to condemn everyone else and stand up for Jesus but mostly I just want to fit in and understand what everyone else is talking about. I’m tired of being asked questions about standards we have that I don’t know the answers to.

Age 19: Fundy U provides even more chances to meet people from outside the bubble. I’m not even sure what some of these kids are doing here but I’ve learned that the rebels are so much more fun than the squares. I still don’t understand their pop culture references but I’ve learned to just laugh anyway. Listening to them I realize that there are more amazing things in the world that I ever knew.

Age 25: I went to my first movie today and then drove home listening to music from a radio station my parents would still never approve of. As I drove I saw billboard that I’d never noticed before. It read “Welcome to the start of 20 years of recovery.” Let’s hope it only takes that long.

Standards

Waiting The Kiss Until The Wedding

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A kiss is just a kiss…except when it’s between two unmarried fundy adults and then it’s apparently some form of quasi-fornication. Indeed, it is a badge of pride among some fundamentalists that the first time they locked lips with their loved one was on the day of their nuptials. On the positive side, at least watching the love birds bumping teeth and locking braces does provide some degree of entertainment for the wedding guests.

Fundyland eschews all those movies that tell us that a couple’s first kiss tells them everything they need to know about their future. By the time a fundy gets the scoop on their partner’s smooching prowess and oral hygiene they’re already married to them for forever. We can only hope they chose wisely. And perhaps are carrying a breath mint.

Why this prohibition on a romantic gesture that has been memorialized in songs, written about in poems, and enacted on the stage and screen for generations? One can only assume that it’s due to the fact that no fundy male can be expected to have one shred of self-control. Well, that and the fact that denying even basic human contact creates a hyper-sexualized environment which creates fantastic opportunities for emotional and physical manipulation.

For extra fun on this topic, grab your local fundamentalist — in a chaste, non-sensual way of course — and ask him for an exegesis of II Corinthians 13:12. Then (after you explain what “exegesis” is) watch him sputter.

Standards

Commandments Concerning Public Testimony

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And when it shall come to pass that you shall be at a gathering of the wicked and someone shall offer unto thee a beer, or wine, or any strong drink thou shalt in no wise simply say “No, thank you.” For this shall be a unto thee a perfect time to let thy fundy flag fly and to smite those sinners in the ear with thy rantings of how thou dost not imbibe yea verily because it is wicked and thou knowest it well for thy pastor hath told thee that the Bible tells him so. Thou shalt in any wise lift up thy voice in testimony to thy standards.

And when it shall come to pass that thy children are out with thee at the supermarket and the cashier shall inquire if the fruit of thy loins have seen the most recent animated feature in the theater (which her godless children dearly loved) that thou shalt instruct this vile temptress that the theater is a place of pure evil such that no true believer must darken its already dark halls. Then thou shalt enquire if she knowest if it is coming out on DVD so that thou mightest buy it and watch it in thy home instead. And in so doing that shalt show her that there are true Christians left in the world who have not bowed their knee to Baal.

And when it shall come to pass that they coworkers shall say a word that is crude, or profane, or obscene or in a foreign tongue that thou shalt in anywise rebuke them soundly and tell them that thine ears cannot stand to ever heard such language because the stain of it shall be in thy heart and in thy soul and be muttered under thy breath when thou growest old. Yea, verily thou shalt make a right prat of thyself at every available opportunity and and also condemn them for whatever sins thou hearest discussed and in so doing thou shalt be light in their eyes and salt in their wounds.

For when thou hast done all these things then shall the heathen know that thou art a Christian and that thou hast standards that are lofty above their own and they shall be without excuse in the great day of judgment. Also, thou shalt probably end up eating all your lunches alone in the company cafeteria.

Independent Baptist Book of Everlasting Rules and Requirements, p 94

Standards

The False Premise

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Time for an SFL lesson in logic!

Of all the logical fallacies that plague fundamentalist reasoning, perhaps none is so common as the syllogistic fallacy of the false premise. For those who are unfamiliar with the concept, consider this common argument against “worldly music”:

Major Premise: God hates worldliness
Minor Premise: All music with a beat is worldly
Conclusion: God hates music with a beat.

This seems like an airtight case until you realize that the middle statement in this construction is demonstrably impossible to prove from Scripture. I mean it’s not even one of those things that’s rationally debatable like Calvinism or Infant Baptism or whether those chicks in Genesis got freaky with the angelic host. Moral judgments on music beats is just not there. At all.

And don’t get hung up on the fact that this example uses music; almost every standard of behavior that is deemed “worldly” or “sensuous” or “immodest” or “Communist” uses the same basic false minor premise. But whatever it is, fundamentalists basically just assume that the middle statement is bound to be true because they’ve heard it repeated loudly and often enough that they’ve lost the capability to be truly critical of it. The sun rises in the east. Gravity makes stuff heavy. And music with a beat is of the devil. It’s as certain as death and tithing.

Given that you’ll never be able to convince a fundamentalist that their minor premise is anything less than gospel truth, arguing about it is almost pointless. If (as in the original example) you ask a fundy to prove that music with a beat is worldly, they’ll triumphantly produce reams of verses that contain the word “worldly” (but never actually demonstrate that they relate to a specific style of music) and claim the authority of Scripture. They may also produce secondary proof such as sermon notes from a popular fundy music pastor, quotes from some ancient rock star, and a few pseudo-scientific audio studies performed by unnamed Uzbekistan scientists in 1958. Or perhaps that a garage band band named “Unnamed Uzbekistan Scientists” in 1993? Either way, it doesn’t end there…

If random verses and other supporting “evidence” is not enough to prove their point the fundamentalist will then simply resort ad hominem, saying that if you don’t agree with them it shows a hardened neck, a stiff and uncircumcised heart, and an understanding that is darkened by rebellion and blinded by your participation in the Harry Cullen Role Playing Internet Blog Chat Forums. They may also decide to suddenly insult your sister. Even if you don’t have one.

It is a frightening thing to watch a person create a god in their own image who embodies their own personal opinions and preferences and then defend that god with a passion that only the One True God deserves.

Standards

Guest Post: The Fence vs. The Ambulance

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Today we are blessed to have a word from Bro. KindofBored. Be sure to visit his book table in the back after the message.

As a youngster, I often heard the “Fence or Ambulance” poem as a cautionary tale against getting too close to the cliff of sin. The moral was that it’s far better to stay as far away as you could from sin, as an ounce of prevention is worth a ton of cure (a fence on the cliff is better than an ambulance down in the valley to spirit the careless and clumsy to the hospital). Doesn’t sound too bad, right? If your property is bounded by a busy highway, you don’t encourage your children to play on the curb.

As with many misguided fundyisms, though, a sensible concept has been taken and run with all the way out yonder past the Back Porch of Rational Thought and into the Briar Patch of Lunacy. Let’s follow the progression from sensible to nonsensical: Unless you’re a properly equipped BASE jumper, falling from cliffs is bad. Got it. To prevent this bad thing from happening, boundaries at the tops of cliffs can keep folks from slipping over the edge. So far, so good.

Here’s where it goes haywire:

1. The fundy leader gets to decide what constitutes a cliff.
2. One cliff-size fits all.
3. The fundy leader decides where the fence goes.

Ah. This is where the fun starts, as the fundy managawd has some serious leeway here. If he determines that the cliff is rock music, then the fence may be a prohibition on listening to anything that’s not a hymn. Or, it may be a demonization of guitars and drums. Or, that satanic alternate third beat may get tossed out the window.

If the cliff is alcoholism, then the fence will be the banning of all alcoholic beverages (and, if they really want to set a good fence, they’ll ban IBC root beer, what with the salaciously shaped bottles that just scream at you to drink beer).

If the cliff is immodest attire on women, then the fence is no pants, skirts-below-the-knees, no visible collarbone, nylons at all times, etc.

If the cliff is shameful long hair on men, then the fence is to have Mrs. Deaconswife taper the men and boys’ hair at least an inch above the ear and seven inches above the collar.

If the cliff is taking a brother before the law, then the fence is to make the victim of his sexual lust take responsibility for the rape and apologize to the church and his wife (and maybe move her out of state). Oh, wait — that doesn’t make sense. How did that get there?

You see, if you set the fence waaaaaaaaayyyyyyy away from cliff, then you’re fulfilling the mandates to “come out from among them and be separate” and “touch not the unclean thing” and “remove not the ancient landmark” and “a stitch in time saves nine” and “wait an hour after eating before swimming.” Such a testimony you’ll have with your community as your family parades around town in July with every square inch of your women’s bodies covered in a burqua — I mean, with long sleeves, long hemlines and high collars as the males proudly display their sunburned whitewalls.

Don’t agree with the fence that your managawd has erected in your living room? Think that he’s making a cliff where the Bible is silent (like that ever happens)? That brings us to the next point:

4. If you disagree, then there’s sin in your heart.

You see, in fundyland, there’s no room for Christian liberty. There’s only the slippery slope leading from the backside of the fence to the cliff’s edge. It doesn’t matter if the managawd sees fit to move the fences from time to time or if he sets a fence at differing distances for different people, as he’s still right with each placement; you’d understand if you prayed more or something. You’d better get your heart right, brother or sister, and bring yourself back into compliance with the pastor’s teaching on this vital subject. After all, becoming a shipwreck is a cliff, so get on the safe side of the fence by listening to your leadership and believing every little thing that falls out of their faces.

Note: if you try to use the concept of fences and ambulances to say that hard-core fundyism is a cliff well, then, brother, I’m scraping the dust off of my sandals as we speak. I might even hit you with a fence post.