Dear Friend, June, we are told, is “Pride Month.” Namely, it’s the month for those who identify as LGBTQ+ to celebrate their identity. In the fanciest terms, it’s a liturgical season—or at least a substitute for it. Now, I think few of us will disagree with the idea that there is anything wrong with taking the month to celebrate certain things. We celebrate the season of Advent because we are waiting for Christ. And Christmas itself, where we celebrate His birth, is technically twelve days (and I know Christians who keep celebrating Christmas until early February). Heck, yesterday we just celebrated the eightieth anniversary of D-Day. Taking time to celebrate things together is a normal part of what it means to be human—to be Christian, even. That’s something that we should own with gratitude and without reservation. But if we think carefully about all these American and Christian holidays that we celebrate, we begin to notice that something ties them all together: They all involve celebrating something other than ourselves. None of these holidays are supposed to be a “special day” for a particular group of people. Instead, they are a recognition and remembrance of blessings that we have been given, that we cannot control. A birthday or an anniversary or retirement parties might be prime examples of this: A birthday party is not about the person whose birthday it is, but about expressing gratitude for others. That is, it’s about those whose efforts have brought that person to where he or she is. Since all of those efforts come from God, all holidays are most basically about praising Him and His providence. Hence, the etymology of the holiday: “holy days.” Yes, holidays do tell us something about ourselves: Namely, that we are the kind of people who express gratitude about such and such a thing. But notice that the focus is not on ourselves. We don’t say, “Look at us, we express gratitude.” It’s not a chance to virtue-signal. Rather, “me” and “you” are supposed to retreat into the background. It’s a time for us to forget ourselves, and to gather around these virtues and heroes and gifts that make us one—whether as a church or a nation. We remember and give thanks, and find there that what we remember becomes a source of communion for us. Hence, why every Sunday is a holiday, the Lord’s Day. What is “Pride Month” in light of this? What are all the various months and seasons and days that the secular liturgists come up with? It’s a degradation. Indeed, it’s a forgetting: Only if we had forgotten what holidays are for could we have decided to give the LGBTQ+ community their “special day.” In this kind of holiday a particular person or group, rather than fading into the background, asserts themselves forward. They don’t draw attention away from themselves as they ought to. Rather, it’s the attitude of “it’s my birthday, so where are my presents?”, or “It’s my wedding day, so everything must be perfect.” That is, it’s an attitude of control and entitlement, not one of grateful reception of the gifts God has and continues to bestow. It’s the attitude of adolescence. And notice another key difference in how this kind of holiday compares with the Christian form: It produces fragmentation, not unity. The most important letter in LGBTQ+, after all, is the “plus” sign. Since they don’t have a clear idea of what they are expressing, there’s no end to what might be expressed during “Pride Month.” Since there’s no end, conflict is inevitable. Indeed, the LGBTQ+ community itself is fractured (and increasingly so with every passing year) about the limits to this ever-growing list of sexual identities (just look at the debate over pedophilia or polygamy, for example). Even if they have a clear idea of what they want to express, each loud boasting of one’s “Pride” becomes yet another occasion for his or her (or “their”) foe within the community to disagree. One claim produces a contradictory claim. What results is division. In a true holiday, we forget our divisions because we are focused on the God who heals all wounds. We unify, even if for but a moment. We remember in anticipation of the one who, when He comes to wed His Bride, will beckon us off the street, dress us in white robes, and rejoice with us in the Wedding Feast of the Lamb for all eternity. That is the vision that lies behind all our holidays. It’s the only reason we take time of work to celebrate them: Because it is about He who grounds our work, who is the object and end of our labors. So we sit next to our sworn enemies and rejoice with them in gratitude. Fake holidays divide because they bring out what’s inward. Real holidays unify because they draw inward what is outside. How must a Christian respond to “Pride Month,” then? We forget about it. We focus our time and attention on celebrating true holidays instead, and we do so with pomp and reverence. When a holiday comes, we do not assert ourselves or our self-identity. Instead, He must increase. We must decrease. When seen in His light, our petty squabbles don’t seem nearly as important, do they? One last brief reminder: This Tuesday, June 11th, is the primary day for state offices. Please make sure to get out to vote. If you haven’t yet done research on where your local candidates stand on issues that we care about, it’s possible that you might be able to find them and their positions by clicking this link, where you will find videos from twelve out of the forty primary candidates. Feel free to check them out. |
