On a Personal Note

I was a young woman just out of college, with no moorings except the new gift of eternal life, when a friend invited me to visit her family in Brooklyn. I had met her through a Christian website dedicated to talking about courtship. The Lord had used her pastor father’s writings to bring me to Christ months before, so I was naturally thrilled with gratitude and affection. And although I was a complete stranger to them, they welcomed me in as one of their own. I needed that welcome.

Family life in their home was so radically different than anything I could have imagined. It was often loud and busy, cramped with evidence of constant, never-stopping living. Piles of papers, news clippings taped to cabinets, music, whether played or recorded, seeping out of rooms, racks of clothing moving in and out of hands, food leaving the refrigerator almost as soon as it got in. People yelled, and squabbled, laughed, and danced. The aroma was quick, brisk and sure.

My friend and her younger sisters argued about clothes, hair, makeup, rides, friends. Sometimes a lot. Her pastor father and his wife (whom I admire more than any other woman I know) even argued once or twice in front of me (gasp!). I was shocked, but not by the arguments. I was shocked by the love. Never once did anyone in the family respond bitterly or with hostility toward one another. Sometimes they apologized with words, sometimes with actions, but even when they didn’t it was always graciously assumed. Even when they still disagreed. I had never seen a powerful love like this before. And I remember thinking to myself that when I had a family, this is what I wanted too. No, not the conflicts, but the grace that never pretended.

This was—and still is—the home of Steve and Jeanne Schlissel. It was a home in which grace ruled because nobody attempted to hide sin, and nobody used it as an excuse for sin (please don’t read that into this). It wasn’t a home where niceness and politeness had replaced true peace, but where Christians (and non-Christians too) were welcome to see themselves in the redeemed mess of life. The context of Ephesians chapter 2 reminds us that peace comes through grace, meaning that it assumes there will always be conflict that needs to be worked through. The Schlissel family worked hard at living this out.

I am telling this story first as a demonstration of my enduring love for the Schlissels. Because there are some who might read Quivering Daughters and, knowing my friendship with them, wonder whether my commitment to the book means I let my love grow cold. In the “Special Feature” article author Rachel Ramer calls Steve Schlissel an “isolationist,” and on page 58 his daughter and my friend, now Sarah Faith Hodges, is quoted as evidence that patriarchalists have gone too far with courtship. I understand the raised eyebrows, so I want to explain how I can be both passionately committed to Quivering Daughters and maintain my love for the Schlissels that I just described.

Actually, it’s quite easy. I know Steve’s and Sarah Faith’s positions have been misunderstood and taken out of context by both sides. (As have R.J. Rushdoony’s writings, also briefly mentioned in Ramer’s article). I know the Schlissel family intimately and am sorry that Ms. Ramer’s lack of familiarity with Steve Schlissel led her to call him an “isolationist.” No doubt, anybody who knows Steve and his tireless ministries over the years in things like providing counseling for abused women and ESL classes through Bible reading for immigrants, or his support of professional dance and fashion opportunities for his daughters, will laugh at the label too. And I also know that Sarah Faith’s views on courtship have changed over the years, marriage and children doing wonders for one’s perspective on life. However, though they’ve been misunderstood to be authoritarian patriarchalists, the reality is that some Christians have used Steve’s and Sarah Faith’s statements to support their own unbiblical views of authority, and this is why I did not object to their presence in Quivering Daughters. However misguided I think Ms. Ramer is on some points, her article makes many tremendously good points about patriarchal assumptions that more Christians would do well to consider instead of dismiss because of certain faults. The larger concern for Quivering Daughters is the practices of the patriarchal culture, not disputes over the theology of Christ and culture.

I am also telling this story as sort of a lecture to myself. I need to remind myself how the Schlissels taught me as a young Christian to work through disagreements with the grace of Christ. How they taught me to have a fervent love for others. Even for those who disagree with me about how dangerous the patriarchy is, and for those who have accused me of being a manipulator, a feminist, or worse because I am voicing my concerns.

I realize nobody knows exactly how many women and children are living demeaned and hopeless lives, separated from the love of God because of the abuse they suffer in the name of God. But the evidence strongly suggests that these are not isolated cases, and this can be hard to accept. We expect this type of culture of Muslims, but not of Christians. More importantly, though, I think we fear confronting sin when it might be in our own back yards. But it is hard for me to bear when the stories of these women and children are dismissed or diminished in favor of upholding a questionable Christian sub-culture. And so, I must preach myself the gospel through it. Just as Christ’s grace shows these victims how not to respond with bitterness toward their abusers, so it shows me how to offer grace through this conflict over the patriarchy. The grace of Christ still slowly, painfully, and eternally covers. This was the grace I learned how to practice from the Schlissels. And I must practice it, no matter how frustrated I get or how tense the conflict.