Why Would That Be?

I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets,

Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets.

I've been raising up my hands, drive another nail in,

Just what God needs, one more victim.

-Crucify, Tori Amos

I was taking Caitlyn to Piano practice yesterday and Tori Amos came on the radio.  It was the song quoted above, which you might guess has some pretty heavy lyrics, but they're of the more abstract sort that generally don't sink in with an 11 year old.  What did sink in was what the DJ said after the song was over: "Tori Amos grew up with a Pastor for a father, and that was hard for her at times."

Caitlyn immediately asked, "Why would that be hard for her?"  At which point I had one of those moments where I was both happy and sad at the same time.  I was happy because the Pastor's kid sitting next to me has never experienced the judgmental side of the church.  She has yet to experience people telling her that her gender or her sexuality is a shameful thing as they "speak for God."  I was happy that, as long as I am her father and her pastor, she will never hear those things from me.  I was sad because too many people do hear them.  I tried to deflect with humor, mostly because I thought I might start crying if I didn't laugh it off.  I said, "Let's just say not every pastor is as cool as your Dad."

To which she replied, "Can't argue with that."

We're happy again and on the way to piano lessons, and I don't have to drive while crying.

I was ready to assume that Rev. Amos was your typical Bible thumping fundamentalist and go on some sort of rant about that, but as it turns out, he is a United Methodist, and no I'm not going to disparage that, because as I read a little about the "difficult relationship," the DJ was ready to tell us about, I found out that Tori's father, far from being a wet blanket on her career actually went with her to bars, even gay bars (Tori was very popular in the LGBT community) to "chaperone" according to Wikipedia, which may or may not have been a smothering, over-protective father, it could have just been so that she would be allowed in as a minor, and so that his little girl would be safe.

I also remembered what has been my favorite Tori song, especially since the birth of my little girl: Winter.  In which the chorus is her father telling her: "When you gonna make up your mind?  When you gonna love you as much as I do? When you gonna make up your mind? Cause things are gonna change so fast..."  That one gives me happy, sad, cry feels as well.

Obviously Tori's relationship with her father wasn't all bad, but judging from some of her songs the relationship with the church was another story.  Which gave me a whole other set of thoughts and feelings.  What if I can't protect my kids from the bad stuff?  (Rhetorical question, I know I can't, at least not forever).  Why is there bad stuff?  Why are we still so hung up in so many ways that probably have nothing to do with what God wants from us?  Why do we, in some quarters, still teach that women are essentially responsible for sin based on that story about a snake and a fruit?  Why do we still endorse patriarchy?  How is the Gospel of Jesus Christ still able to be polluted with prejudice based on race, sexual orientation and yes, gender?

I know, I know, sin. But if Christ died for our sins, why do we need to crucify ourselves?  And I don't mean in the redemptive carrying of the cross sense either, I mean why do we pass on this guilt and shame from generation to generation, and how can we stop it?  To me the message of the Good News says, "Stop it, it's done, it's paid in full."  Welcome the sinners, eat with the outcasts and don't squash the strange little girls who see music and get kicked out of a prestigious musical program at age 11 (Caitlyn's age) because she didn't want to play by the rules.

I have always tried to remember, for better or worse that when my kids pray the disciple's prayer, when they say Our Father, even if they're trying to think about God in heaven, they're going to probably, in some way, shape or form, picture me.  That is a heavy thing. I am thankful that, I guess so far, it's going okay.