quarta-feira, 27 de fevereiro de 2013

A religião do laicismo

A religião do laicismo

sábado, 9 de fevereiro de 2013



Estou falando de Rosaria Champagne Butterfield, lésbica, professora em uma renomada universidade americana, ideologicamente esquerdista e que vivia com sua amante há muitos anos. A revista Christianity Today acaba de publicar o testemunho dela com o título: “Minha conversão: um desastre de trem” (veja aqui: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2013/january-february/my-train-wreck-conversion.html).

Rosaria e sua amante tinham duas casas que usavam para dar hospitalidade a estudantes e ativistas preocupados em mudar o mundo para melhor. Eram profundamente empenhadas em causas sociais. Rosamaria desprezava os cristãos, especialmente os alunos que tentavam inserir versículos bíblicos numa conversa ou nos trabalhos que apresentavam. Para ela, o cristianismo estava totalmente errado e chegava mesmo a ser prejudicial às pessoas.

Mas, um dia, recebeu um comentário de um pastor presbiteriano sobre um artigo onde ela atacou os cristãos, particularmente o grupo Promise Keepers (grupo de homens cristãos devotados ao resgate da masculinidade cristã). No comentário, o pastor Ken Smith gentilmente questionou os pressupostos dela e de que maneira ela sabia que estava certa em suas acusações. Foi ali que começou o processo de vários anos que terminou com sua conversão, quando ela tinha perto de 40 anos de idade. Hoje, casada com um pastor evangélico e mãe de vários filhos, Rosaria dá testemunho de como Deus teve de demolir e destruir todos os seus pressupostos, ídolos e amores até trazê-la aos pés da cruz de Jesus Cristo.

A sua história completa está no livro The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert (você pode comprar pela Amazon aqui:http://www.amazon.com/The-Secret-Thoughts-Unlikely-Convert/dp/1884527388).

My Train Wreck Conversion

As a leftist lesbian professor, I despised Christians. Then I somehow became one.
My Train Wreck Conversion
The word Jesus stuck in my throat like an elephant tusk; no matter how hard I choked, I couldn't hack it out. Those who professed the name commanded my pity and wrath. As a university professor, I tired of students who seemed to believe that "knowing Jesus" meant knowing little else. Christians in particular were bad readers, always seizing opportunities to insert a Bible verse into a conversation with the same point as a punctuation mark: to end it rather than deepen it.
Stupid. Pointless. Menacing. That's what I thought of Christians and their god Jesus, who in paintings looked as powerful as a Breck Shampoo commercial model.
As a professor of English and women's studies, on the track to becoming a tenured radical, I cared about morality, justice, and compassion. Fervent for the worldviews of Freud, Hegel, Marx, and Darwin, I strove to stand with the disempowered. I valued morality. And I probably could have stomached Jesus and his band of warriors if it weren't for how other cultural forces buttressed the Christian Right. Pat Robertson's quip from the 1992 Republican National Convention pushed me over the edge: "Feminism," he sneered, "encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism, and become lesbians." Indeed. The surround sound of Christian dogma comingling with Republican politics demanded my attention.
After my tenure book was published, I used my post to advance the understandable allegiances of a leftist lesbian professor. My life was happy, meaningful, and full. My partner and I shared many vital interests: aids activism, children's health and literacy, Golden Retriever rescue, our Unitarian Universalist church, to name a few. Even if you believed the ghost stories promulgated by Robertson and his ilk, it was hard to argue that my partner and I were anything but good citizens and caregivers. The GLBT community values hospitality and applies it with skill, sacrifice, and integrity.
I began researching the Religious Right and their politics of hatred against queers like me. To do this, I would need to read the one book that had, in my estimation, gotten so many people off track: the Bible. While on the lookout for some Bible scholar to aid me in my research, I launched my first attack on the unholy trinity of Jesus, Republican politics, and patriarchy, in the form of an article in the local newspaper about Promise Keepers. It was 1997.
I was a broken mess. I did not want to lose everything that I loved. But the voice of God sang a sanguine love song in the rubble of my world.
The article generated many rejoinders, so many that I kept a Xerox box on each side of my desk: one for hate mail, one for fan mail. But one letter I received defied my filing system. It was from the pastor of the Syracuse Reformed Presbyterian Church. It was a kind and inquiring letter. Ken Smith encouraged me to explore the kind of questions I admire: How did you arrive at your interpretations? How do you know you are right? Do you believe in God? Ken didn't argue with my article; rather, he asked me to defend the presuppositions that undergirded it. I didn't know how to respond to it, so I threw it away.
Later that night, I fished it out of the recycling bin and put it back on my desk, where it stared at me for a week, confronting me with the worldview divide that demanded a response. As a postmodern intellectual, I operated from a historical materialist worldview, but Christianity is a supernatural worldview. Ken's letter punctured the integrity of my research project without him knowing it.

Fonte: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2013/january-february/my-train-wreck-conversion.html