In Defense of Fairy Tales

I have a different take than many on this cartoon getting passed around the interwebz. I think the cartoon is pretty funny, but I also think it's message is just as misguided as the Disney Princesses it derides. Here's why.

Put simply, it is good and natural and healthy and beautiful for a girl to have this desire to be attractive. I have a six-year-old daughter. She wants to be noticed. When she was two she started dressing up. I didn't teach her that. It's innate. And it doesn't go away no matter how much we praise her for what's inside versus what's outside.

Stasi Eldredge makes this idea abundantly clear in her book Captivating. Women and girls long to be captivating. They want to be noticed. My daughter is terrible at hide-and-seek, not because she doesn't know when I can't see her, but because she doesn't want to be hidden. If I don't find her in the first 10 seconds, she makes herself known. She wants to be found. And she wants the finder to be the object of her affection. She doesn't care so much if the neighbor finds her hunkered behind the shrubs. She wants me to find her.

Now, here's the disclaimer: Has our culture emphasized physical beauty too much? Absolutely. Has our society confined physical beauty to one narrow definition (this color eyes, that shaped body, etc.)? Yes. Is Barbie or Bratz or Disney Princesses giving our daughters unreal expectations of what they should look like? For sure. And do many of our little girls continue to pursue those unhealthy avenues toward getting "noticed" into adulthood? Sadly, yes.

But I contend that there's a reason for that and it's not a Disney conspiracy to make money or steal our daughters' innocence. Disney has made all that money because they found a theme that works. And the theme works because little girls love fairy tales. And little girls love fairy tales because they long to be captivating.

Couldn't we offer the same objection to our own favorite films? Should we complain that Braveheart encourages men to be violent? That Gladiator promotes revenge? That Saving Private Ryan glorifies war? We could, but we'd be missing the point. Those stories don't appeal to men because our culture has trained us so. They appeal to men because they call to something we're born with - something deep and unspoken that tells us we were made for something epic. Something that asks if we have what it takes. Something that makes us long to be brave and strong and offer that strength to a beauty.

I understand that fairy tales are fairy tales. No real girl can look as good as Arial. I mean, c'mon! And no real guy will ever fight a wicked sea witch and defeat her by sheer force of valor and his love for his maiden. It's a fairy tale! But the fairy tale shows us a glimpse of what can be - of the larger story that we can be a part of. Fairy tales, whether they intend to be or not, are visual metaphors for adventures that are available to us all. I can be found brave and strong and offer that strength to my wife, even if our enemy manifests in debt or bitterness rather than sea witches mean stepsisters. And she can be beautiful and captivating even if that doesn't mean fin surgery or 1,000 year naps.

Sure, it would be foolish for us to teach our daughters that blond hair and skinny legs are their highest goals in life. But it's equally foolish to deride fairy tales because they don't look like our day-to-day lives. The solution to this problem is not to disdain fairy tales. It's to offer a better story. It's to teach our little girls that they can be beautiful, no matter what their dress size. It's to teach them to look for men who will offer them strength and sacrifice, not take from them in weakness and selfishness.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think my little princess needs me to rescue her from some dragons in the back yard. Where did I leave that sword...

Unplugging

The Matrix was on TV last weekend and I plopped on the couch and watched part of it. I doubt the Wachowski brothers were making a statement of faith with that film, but it's hard to miss the parallels (for more on that, there are a ton of books, one of which I once owned, never got around to reading, and eventually sold in a garage sale.) The most meaningful metaphor for me is the Matrix itself. It's a fake world. A sham. An elaborate deception based on a former reality.

It's been a busy Spring. My company has had several very time-sensitive projects plus we've been busy with kid activities, church stuff, etc. And we've been sick a fair bit this spring. All of that combined has kept me "plugged in" more than is healthy. I have to get out of the Matrix often - and for at least a half hour at a time - to really get the stench off of me. To really see the Matrix for what it is. Otherwise, it starts to seem real. And important.

So after the movie I unplugged for a bit. Felt good. That's it. Gonna go unplug now.

Faith & Fandom

I want so much to fix Tiger Woods and Jennifer Knapp, don't you? I have been a fan of both. Have seen both of them peform live. Loved both shows. I've bought their records and the merchandise. Tried to swing like one and play guitar like the other. I'm a fan. And now I'm facing what every fan has to face eventually - the object of our fandom is broken. Tiger is not a Jedi. Jennifer is not an angel. They struggle. They're broken.

It's hard to have anything new to say about either case. I can't condemn either for their brokenness, nor can I dismiss their sin as unimportant. Like Professor Barry Jones says, "Sin is a big deal to God." The tricky part is how to respond as a fan.

First, let me say I think it would actually be easier to respond to them if I were a friend and not a fan. At least it would be easier to know how to respond. Carrying through would be tougher. How would you respond if a friend of yours confessed sexual sin to you? Before you answer, remember you've been there. You've had sin to confess before. Have you ever trusted a brother or sister with it? Have you trusted the whole world with it?

I think it would be easier to respond to Tiger or Jennifer if I was in community with them. I'd give them a hug. I'd cry with them. And I would try to do the really hard thing of facing the sin with them - of telling them that what they've done does not reflect the heart and character of God. I would hold hands with them and pray and ask God for healing and clarity and redemption. And then we'd meet for breakfast at Corner Bakery every Friday and have to answer the question, "How is God redeeming your sexuality?" I would invest. I would carry burdens with them. That's how we do things in the Church. And actually I think we're pretty good at it. For all the mishandling that makes news (I'm looking at you, Pat Robertson), I know many cases of loving restoration, including my own, that never get reported.

But I am not Tiger's friend, or Jennifer's. So I have to decide how to react from a distance. Do I stand on principle and cheer for bogeys? Burn Kansas? Or do I go buy some tickets to show that I believe in forgiveness?

I don't know. If I'm gut-level honest, I have to confess that I'm skeptical of their repentances. Tiger's seemed forced, and Jennifer doesn't seem to think there's anything to repent of. I have a lot of thoughts about both - about how soon I expect Tiger to start carousing again; about how Jennifer seems misguided in her Christianity Today interview. Those thoughts are actually why I started writing this entry. I have piping hot opinions about their restorations and, in Knapp's case, about defense of the truth. But, it turns out, I can't issue those opinions. At least not with any genuineness. And not to anyone but Tiger and Jennifer.

In fact, I think to do so would be sinful on my part because who am I to judge that? I can't tell you if Tiger is sincere. And I can't tell you if Jennifer is using smoke screens or really struggling to understand scripture. And I would certainly be hurt if someone who doesn't know me decided to start scoring my confessions as if they issued passing grades for contrition. I've got my own plank to worry about and even if I didn't, I wouldn't be qualified to know their hearts. God judges the heart. We have to live with skin and bones. And that - especially the skin part - really seems to mess us up.