Haggard's Fall
For some reason, the fall of Ted Haggard has capitivated me. I didn't sleep well last night, and I found myself praying for Haggard's family, as well as "Pastor Ted" himself.
As I've stated over at Xark, I think the inevitable emphasis on Haggard's hypocrisy is misguided. But the sheer scale of Haggard's disgrace is almost luridly fascinating. He is experiencing what would be a nightmare for anyone: our deepest, darkest secret, the thing we are most ashamed of, put on display for the world. And in Haggard's case, "the world" is no exaggeration.
Because I can only imagine what that must feel like - for Haggard, but also for his wife and kids - I pray for them. But because Haggard is such a powerful and influential figure, the fallout from this is culturally, politically, and spiritually important. So I'm thinking about it, and I'm curious what others are thinking.
First, Harper's has made available online an earlier article about Haggard's ministry. It shows that Haggard's theology is one I loathe: This was a man who actively, consciously sought to commodify Chrisitian belief, who favored raw, military assertions of American might, who saw capitalism as ordained by Godself. Then, of course, there's also the position that precipitated his fall: A firm insistence on the evils of homosexuality and public support of political movements to ban gay marriage.
Amy Sullivan at the God's Politics (a blog written by Sojourners' Jim Wallis and allies) points out why this matters:
The Mark Foley scandal was one thing--it confirmed fears among many voters that Republicans didn't share their values; they tolerated homosexual behavior among their colleagues and staff while condemning it in front of their base voters.
This, however, is a scandal involving a shephard of the flock itself. If it turns out there is truth to the allegations, the story will reverberate further and longer than any of the scandals of the 1980s (Swaggart, Bakker, etc.) because it involves not just personal behavior, but an issue that conservative evangelicals have made extremely clear is one of their two top priorities. And I wonder how or if this will affect the condemnation of homosexuality in general within conservative evangelical circles. After all, we know that people's attitudes change once they learn that someone they know is gay. A lot of evangelicals know (or at least know of) Haggard. If indeed he has been involved with a gay man, that could blow a lot of evangelical minds.
But will minds actually be blown now that the truth is out? An excellent story at Salon.com suggests that, at least at Haggard's church, that's not happening:
A service that began with easy listening-style worship music sung by a 300-person choir, bathed in the fuchsia and lavender lights that suffuse the sanctuary, quickly became a clarion call for heterosexual marriage, and the "therapeutic restoration" of the soul of the founding pastor of this church. The choir and worship band sang about God's all-knowingness, of having absolute trust in him and nothing else. The clear message here was neither to question, nor to reassess, nor even to consider the personal struggle of their beloved former leader, who is at once the same man they have adored and followed -- and someone who happens to be attracted to men. It was to go back to the Psalms, and to soldier on.
This, basically, is what I was predicting at Xark: The fall of the messenger has no effect on the message. There's no logical reason it should, but I'd hope this would allow Christians to at least openly, honestly, consider the question of our collective approach to homosexuality.
Of course, Haggard himself is not reconsidering sexuality - his own or that of others. In fact, his heart-wrenching letter to his congregation shows a man who finds himself deeply sinful yet not wrong in his beliefs:
I am a deceiver and a liar. There is a part of my life that is so repulsive and dark that I've been warring against it all of my adult life.
For extended periods of time, I would enjoy victory and rejoice in freedom. Then, from time to time, the dirt that I thought was gone would resurface, and I would find myself thinking thoughts and experiencing desires that were contrary to everything I believe and teach.
Through the years, I've sought assistance in a variety of ways, with none of them proving to be effective in me. Then, because of pride, I began deceiving those I love the most because I didn't want to hurt or disappoint them.
The public person I was wasn't a lie; it was just incomplete. When I stopped communicating about my problems, the darkness increased and finally dominated me. As a result, I did things that were contrary to everything I believe.
Regardless of what you think about Haggard and his beliefs, this is gut-wrenching stuff. It's watching a life destroyed before our eyes, a real-life Greek tragedy, with the hero undone by his own hubris. To his credit, though, Haggard also offers the most complete, unambiguous apology of any public figure in recent memory. There is no blaming the media, his accuser, or some politically motivated conspiracy:
Please forgive my accuser. He is revealing the deception and sensuality that was in my life. Those sins, and others, need to be dealt with harshly. So, forgive him and, actually, thank God for him. I am trusting that his action will make me, my wife and family, and ultimately all of you, stronger. He didn't violate you; I did.
The word "harshly" bothers me here. It suggests self-flagellation, self-hatred, and the fact that "Pastor Ted" has a long, long road to healing. What bothers me more, though, is that he is submitting to the advice and discipline of a group of ministers that includes Dr. James Dobson. That's a scourge in human form, and Dobson's influence effectively rules out Haggard's taking a deeper look at his approach to sexuality - his own and that of others.
Still, I'm not going to argue the shame is totally misguided. At this point in Haggard's life, this isn't just about the rightness or wrongness of a homosexual orientation. It's also about a betrayal of his family and the wife to whom Haggard made vows of fidelity. It's worth considering that Haggard's orientation may be bisexual - he's not necessarily inventing his attraction to his wife, so his vows to her weren't necessarily a betrayal of his sexual identity. Personally, I also respect his wife for her apparent refusal to give up on him. The New York Times reports (registration required) that the congregation also heard from her Sunday:
“For those of you who have been concerned that my marriage was so perfect I could not possibly relate to the women who are facing great difficulties, know that this will never again be the case,” she wrote.
That got a rueful laugh, according to the Times. Also in the irony department: Haggard's book on how to have a happy marriage.
I'm conflicted on the church's approach to homosexuality, but I think we should prayerfully, lovingly, humbly consider the question of whether Christianity's traditional condemnation of homosexuality is wrong. In the meantime, I'm sort of adopting a methodology advocated by Rowan Williams, archbishop of Canterbury: When we don't know the answer, sometimes we should be quiet until the spirit moves. (I don't know Williams position on homosexuality; this is general advice).
Still, we should be considering, praying, listening for the Spirit. I hope that Haggard and his congregation allow for the possibility that the Spirit may move in unexpected ways.