Are you an aspiring author? Are you interested in the publishing world? Or are you just looking for something to read this summer?
If any of these are true of you, you won’t want to miss my podcast this week, as I interview Wendy Grisham, head of progressive Christian publisher Jericho Books.
This week, we discuss:
- Wendy’s advice for aspiring authors about how to get a publisher’s attention (and how not to);
- My confession about why I feel intimidated by people who say they love to read;
- Suggestions for moving, funny, and insightful books to add to your summer reading list;
- And more!
Give it a listen with the links above, or subscribe/download on the GCN Radio homepage.
It’s here! It’s here!
You guys have been asking me forever when there would be an audio version of TORN. Wait no longer! You can get it right now! Right this moment!
With a click of the mouse, you can hear me personally read my story to you while you work, drive, clean, or work out. Cool, right?
Get it here: Audible, Amazon, iTunes
By the way, I’m going to see if I can get them to choose a better audio sample, because right now, the sample is largely me quoting another book, which isn’t a good example of my book at all. If you read my blog, though, you know how I write. :)
Also, iTunes might have made one tiny mistake in their listing:
Oh, iTunes.
iPad : iPad mini :: TORN hardcover : _______________
You guys! The TORN paperback is here, and it’s so cute and little! It totally plays the iPad mini to the hardcover’s iPad—or, heck, you could buy the ebook and actually read it on an iPad. Or all three.
The paperback looks the same in front, but the back is different:
And here they are, side by side. (Do I sound like a proud papa yet?)
I love them both! But I admit to having a special fondness for how the larger hardcover looks on a shelf and how it feels to hold it in your hands. So if you’ve been planning to swing by your local bookstore at some point to pick up a hardcover of TORN for yourself or someone else, you may want to do that now, because they may not continue to stock the hardcover once the paperback comes out.
TORN hits stores in paperback on May 14.
(Oh, and guess what else is about to come out? You might have heard me speak about it in the past, so make some noise in the comments and I’ll be listening as you give voice to your guesses. Ahem.)
Bwahahaha!
From lifeinreligiouspublishing:
My Mother’s Reaction When I Said How Happy I Am That Books Like Torn By Justin Lee Are Being Published
I don’t know who this “lifeinreligiouspublishing” person is, but I like them already. ;)
Missing the forest for the A/Bs.
Since my book TORN came out a few months ago, I’ve gotten a lot of praise for it. I’m not gonna lie; as an author, that’s a pretty cool experience.
I’ve also had some critics. And you know what? I’m cool with that, too. I like engaging in dialogue with people who disagree with me. I learn a lot from those conversations.
Only one thing bothers me, and that’s when people miss the point entirely. I don’t mind the criticism, but I’d rather be criticized for my actual message. KnowhutImean?
If you’ve followed me for long, you know that I often talk about two “sides” in our culture’s gay debate: “Side A,” which argues in favor of consummated gay relationships, and “Side B,” which argues against them. As I reiterated earlier this week, my ministry focus is on helping people show love and grace in the gay debate, not on winning people to my “side.” If you’ve missed that, then you’ve missed the entirety of what I stand for.
Don’t get me wrong; whether the church should be Side A or Side B is an important question. It matters in my life as a gay person, it’s connected to how we read the Bible in other contexts, and it affects a number of social and political issues.
It’s an important question, yes, but I don’t believe it’s the most important question. I believe the even more important question is how we fix the dysfunctional approach so many Christians have taken to the entire issue. Not only are we not changing each other’s minds; we’re tearing apart families and giving Jesus a black eye. We’ve become known for our lack of grace, and that’s got to stop.
In my view, if we miss the importance of grace in how we approach the A/B divide, we’ve missed the boat so completely that arguing about Side A and Side B is like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.
Or… wait. I just mixed that metaphor. I mean, if it’s the Titanic, then you probably wanted to miss the boat. You know what I mean, though.
I think I’ve been clear about that, both on my blog and in my book. Yet over and over, when I talk to reporters and event planners and new acquaintances, I have conversations that feel like this:
Other Person: “So you’ve written a book on the homosexuality debate in the church?”
Me: “I have! It’s called TORN and it’s based on my experiences working to build bridges between the sides over the last 15 years.”
Other Person: “Uh huh. So which position do you take? Are you for or against gay marriage?”
Me: “Um, well, that’s not actually what the book is about. The book is about how the lack of grace in the debate is hurting Christianity’s reputation, and what we can do to—”
Other Person: “Sure, sure. But which side are you on personally?”
Me: “Well, that’s been a journey for me, because I started out on what we call ‘Side B,’ believing that homosexual behavior is sinful, and in the course of my journey, my view changed. But my ministry is with people on both sides, and I don’t want to give the impression that—”
Other Person: “Great. So now you support gay marriage?”
Me: “Well, yes, but that’s not actually the focus of my—”
Other Person: “Great. Let’s have a public debate about gay marriage and the Bible. You can represent the gay side, and we’ll have so-and-so represent the Christian side.”
Me: [sigh…]
I don’t know how many ways to say this. Yes, I’m now Side A. Yes, I’m happy to explain how I came to that conclusion if you really want to know, and I have done so in response to people’s questions. But no, that’s not my primary focus, and it’s not what my book is about. In fact, most of the book is written from a Side B perspective, because it’s about a time in my life when I held Side B views, and the book has gotten a lot of praise from people on both sides.
Somehow, though, this hasn’t stopped some individuals from characterizing my book as if it were primarily a theological work to convince people of Side A—and then criticizing it for not going into enough depth about the Side A beliefs it supposedly exists to promote.
I knew this would happen, of course. For a while, I even considered writing the whole book without mentioning which side I was on, but it just didn’t work. A lot of my journey depends on understanding the turmoil I felt as I wrestled with the Scriptures. The Bible is very important to me, so I couldn’t just leave it out. And anyway, I don’t think you should have to hide which side you’re on in order to build a bridge to the other side.
At the same time, I knew I didn’t want my book to be a detailed theological defense of a particular side; that’s already been done in dozens of other books and it’s a distraction from my central message.
Instead, I decided to briefly summarize my biblical journey in two chapters, giving an overview of some of the different issues at stake and why Bible study ultimately changed my mind on the issue, but then moving on and not letting that become the focus of the book.
Only two chapters touch on the A/B Bible debate—one about why I felt torn, and one about why I changed my position. The rest of the fifteen-chapter book is focused on the ways both Side A and Side B can agree—stories of grace shown and grace denied, advice on how we can move forward together and examples of people on both sides getting it right and getting it wrong. At the end of the book, the person I hold up as a supreme example of handling this issue the right way is someone who disagrees with my Side A biblical view. I did that on purpose, because my point in the book isn’t about Side A or Side B, but rather about how people on both sides can show more grace in the debate.
Makes sense, right?
But even as many Christian leaders on both sides have embraced and supported the book, including the most recent Archbishop of Canterbury, there have been a few critics who act as if I were primarily a Side A activist and those two Bible chapters were the only chapters in the entire book.
This week, my fiercest critic has been Side B theologian Robert Gagnon, who’s minced no words in criticizing me for a paragraph I wrote about the “man should not lie with man” passage in Leviticus. In that section, I discuss why I felt so torn as a young man, trying to make sense of whether the passage condemned only gay sex or gay romance as well, and whether it was limited to a particular cultural context or applicable to today’s Christians. I go back and forth on the question, and I briefly mention that while many Side A and Side B scholars disagreed on how to interpret the passage, one point they agreed on was that same-sex cult prostitution was part of the cultural context. (I then go on to explain why that line of argument was interesting but didn’t really answer the question for me, because it could be interpreted in two different ways.)
Dr. Gagnon is upset with me because I quoted him as an example of a scholar who believes the Bible condemns all gay sex (Side B) but who nonetheless acknowledges that cult prostitution was part of the cultural context. He wrote an open letter to me last week, saying that I should have gone on to clarify that he doesn’t believe Leviticus should be limited to that context. (I would have thought that was obvious from my description of him in the book as a Side B scholar; that was the whole point. Did any readers honestly come away with any other impression? If so, I most definitely apologize.) He also wants me to address his other major arguments in a 520-page scholarly tome he’s written on the subject.
But, see, my goal in that passage was to give the casual reader a brief glimpse of the turmoil I was going through and the kinds of questions I was asking at that point in my life. I wasn’t trying to offer an in-depth discussion of both sides of the scholarly Bible debate; there wasn’t enough space, it wasn’t the kind of book I was writing, and it’s not the conversation that I’m most interested in.
Not surprisingly, Dr. Gagnon has now challenged me to a public debate with him on Side A and Side B. I’m still trying to figure out how to graciously respond to these requests. If I say no, it gives the impression that I’m not confident in my biblical interpretation, that I don’t think it’s important, or that I’m not willing to subject my views to public scrutiny. On the other hand, if I say yes, I risk being pulled into the very kinds of ungracious us-versus-them battles that my whole book is about trying to avoid! It’s one of those cut-the-baby-in-half moments; I’d lose even if I won.
I’m not averse to discussing my views publicly or having them picked apart and criticized. I’ll even do a “debate” if it can be done with a gracious tone and in the context of a broader dialogue about grace and understanding on both sides. But I’m not interested in becoming a Side A evangelist. If you want that, talk to my friend Matthew Vines, who is very interested in doing that work. For my part, I’m interested in maintaining an open dialogue with both sides and finding ways we can bring grace back to the conversation, even if we disagree.
Because, I’ve gotta tell ya, if the tone of some of my critics’ messages (and some of my supporters’ messages as well!) is any indication, we still have a long way to go.
I love you. Here’s a textbook.
Imagine this scenario, if you will…
It’s little Sara’s birthday, and she’s overjoyed to unwrap a present and discover a brand new pair of shiny roller skates, just like the ones she’s been eyeing in the store for months. With an excited shriek, she runs straight out to the sidewalk in front of her home to try them out, but in her excitement, she leaves her new kneepads in the box. It’s not long before she hits an uneven patch of pavement and goes tumbling, badly scraping her knee in the process.
Sara comes crying into the house. Her arms are scratched. Her knee is bloody. She’s in pain, and her pride is wounded. Her mother turns around and instantly realizes what’s happened.
Question: How should Sara’s mom show her love?
(a) Hug Sara warmly and offer to bandage up her knee and/or kiss it to make it better.
(b) Toss some skating safety pamphlets at her and tell her she should have known better.
If you chose (b), I sure am glad you weren’t my mom!
It’s a parent’s job to show love to their kids. Sometimes that means doing things the kids don’t like (curfews, discipline, saying “no”), but there should always be love undergirding it all, and that needs to be clear. Sara’s mom does need to insist on Sara’s wearing the appropriate safety gear in the future, but in this moment, when Sara is hurting, her mom needs to give her a hug and a kiss and show that she cares about Sara’s pain—that she cares about Sara. You can’t just drop a textbook in your child’s lap and claim that it’s proof of your love because you’re teaching them what’s right.
Similarly, we Christians are called to love our neighbors. In the gay debate, one of the things I hear people argue about is what it means to love someone when you disagree with them on something important. Conservative Christians with a “Side B” view (that gay sex is sinful) often complain that gay people accuse them of being “unloving” just because they don’t support same-sex marriage. That’s not fair, they say; sometimes you show your love for someone by telling them the truth, even if it’s not what they want to hear.
Those Side B Christians are right to be frustrated. Agreement with everything I believe should never be a prerequisite for loving me. Sometimes you show me love by showing me the error of my ways. Other times you show me love by trying to show me what you believe to be the error of my ways, even though I think you’re completely wrong. Either way, you’re still showing your love. I get that.
BUT.
(Yes, there’s a huge “but” here. Hey, I hear you snickering; cut that out!)
You can’t use “I’m loving you by telling you the truth” as an excuse to simply debate or argue with me. If your words don’t come wrapped in grace, you might as well be flinging textbooks in my direction. That doesn’t count as love, and you’re not going to change my mind anyway.
You want to love me? Don’t give me a theological treatise on homosexuality and all the reasons I’m wrong. Show me grace. Listen to me. Hear my fears and my pain. Demonstrate that you care about me as a person, not just about winning a theological argument.
If you don’t already know that gay people have experienced a lot of pain at the hands of the church, you haven’t been paying attention. And even if you think some of that pain, like Sara’s, is a direct result of making bad choices, that’s still no justification for callousness. Love calls for you to empathize with the other person’s pain, whatever its cause. If you’re not showing empathy, you’re not showing love. Period. End of story.
Jesus interacted with sinners all the time. He did sometimes call their attention to their sin, or at least encourage them to “go and sin no more.” But notice how he always showed them grace first. The only exceptions in all of Scripture are when he called others out for the ways their own ungraciousness was keeping others from coming to God, such as the Pharisees’ self-righteous legalism and the money changers’ setting up shop in the area reserved for Gentile worship. As a general rule, Jesus’ first response to people was to show them love and meet their needs, not to argue with them.
If there’s anything you ever get from my book, my blog, my speaking engagements, and everything else I ever say, I hope it’s that we Christians should make grace the centerpiece of everything we do. We’re known as Jesus’ followers by our love—lived out with the kind of grace God has repeatedly shown us.
A lot of people assume that because I’m a gay Christian, my goal in life is to convince everyone of a particular viewpoint on the Bible’s view of same-sex relationships. Nope, not at all. I will summarize my views when I’m asked, but that’s not my focus or my ministry. I’d like to get folks on both sides of that debate to show more grace to one another, and I’d like to help Christians understand the human beings behind this debate—to see us as people, not as issues.
If you get that, then you get me—even if you and I disagree on every last bit of theology and Bible interpretation, from transubstantiation to sexual morality. But if you don’t get this principle of grace—if you’d rather hurl words and arguments and Bible passages and textbook-sized diatribes at people in an attempt to prove how wrong they are—then I’m afraid we don’t have much to talk about, even if you and I agree in our interpretation of every other theological point, down to the number of angels who could dance on the head of a pin.
(The answer is 42, by the way. But we can still be friends even if you got it wrong.)
You guys! Look what I got in the mail! It’s the UK edition of TORN (but with a different title).
And it looks faaaaaaabulous.
My interview with Rachel Held Evans… and other cool stuff.
Yes, I’m still here! I haven’t died, and I haven’t stopped blogging.
One of the earmarks of a professional blogger is that they plan ahead, keeping the blog posts flowing even when they’re traveling or otherwise busy.
Clearly, I am an unprofessional blogger.
So for those of you who’ve been wondering where I’ve been these last few weeks, the short answer is that I’ve been very, very busy. I’ve been traveling, speaking in cool places like Calvin College and Duke Divinity School, meeting with some important people about future plans, aaaaaand (this is the exciting part) recording the audiobook version of TORN! (Woohoo!)
Yes, yes, you’re right, I could totally have taken a moment to write and let you know what I was up to (okay, Mom!), but in my defense, I did have some computer problems as well, and…
Okay, fine, you win. I’m a lazy bum. But can I make it up to you by mentioning that last week I did a podcast interview with Rachel Held Evans? Hmmmm? Well here it is:
My interview with Rachel Held Evans
It was so much fun. There’s a reason we’re friends.
Oh, and if you follow that link, you’ll also notice that I’ve done a few other recent shows that I didn’t mention on the blog, including one about Westboro (with guest host Montana Marty), and another about the pros and cons of being a gay Christian (with guest host Stace-Eh).
So thanks for your patience while I took a few weeks away from writing. I’m back now, and there’s lots more I want to say! Coming up, I’ll tell you the true story of what it’s like to record an audiobook, and I’ve got a fun thought experiment as a follow-up to a recent post. Stay tuned!
“I give God 10%. Why do you get 18?”
Yesterday, a restaurant server posted the following photo to reddit; it’s already going viral.
The story: The pastor was part of a large party who ate at this server’s restaurant. Like many American restaurants, this particular one has a policy of adding an automatic 18% tip for large parties. It’s something the computer does automatically, not something the server has any control over.
According to the server, the pastor’s party tried to get around the automatic 18% tip by asking for separate checks, even though the same person was paying for the whole table. The server says that everyone was happy with the service; they just didn’t like the idea of a compulsory tip.
The result? The pastor scribbled out the tip, leaving none at all, and adding the note, “I give God 10%. Why do you get 18?”
(As a side note, I suspect the server would have been happy with 10% of the diner’s income as a tip. Only 18% of the cost of the meal is a bargain.)
Oh, and just to drive the point home, the diner made sure to add the word “Pastor” above their signature at the bottom.
Really?
If you’ve read my book TORN, you know that I had similar experiences waiting tables:
“Sundays are the worst,” one of the servers explained to me. “That’s when the church crowd goes out to eat.”
“What’s wrong with the church crowd?” I asked.
“Oh, honey,” she said. “They’re usually the most demanding, and they’re always the worst tippers. I guarantee you, if you see your table praying before the meal, you can mentally subtract a third from your tip.”
Standing nearby, the manager cracked a smile. “They already gave at church,” he said. “They don’t have any money left.”
In the book, I talk about what this means for the reputation of the church. (Hint: It’s not good.)
Yes, a lot of us think the tipping system in America could be improved. In many countries, servers are paid a decent wage, and tips are an added incentive to reward a job especially well done. I know a lot of people who think it should be that way in the United States, too, but it’s not. In most states, servers are paid only a little over $2 an hour (yes, you read that right), with the expectation that they will make their living from tips. You might not like that system, but if you choose to express your displeasure with it by tipping your server poorly, the only person you’re hurting is the server—someone who is already living on very little money and depending on your tip to help them pay their bills.
As a former server myself, I always tip at least 18-20% unless the service was just so unbearably horrible that it destroyed the dining experience. Even then, I still tip, just not as much. If I can’t afford the tip, I don’t eat out, or I eat someplace where diners aren’t expected to tip. Otherwise, I consider paying my server to be part of the cost of the meal.
I think everyone should tip that way, but if you choose not to, do me a favor: Don’t pray before your meal, don’t go out to eat right after church, and don’t sign your receipt with the word “pastor.” In short, don’t let people know you’re a Christian. Because when Christians are the worst tippers, it destroys our witness. We’re supposed to be the generous ones, not the stingy and selfish ones. And I can tell you from experience, when servers see a pattern of Christians who tip poorly, it makes them far less interested in any of this “Jesus stuff.”
It’s worth noting that the original image above was posted on reddit’s “atheism” forum.
And for heaven’s sake, whatever you do, please don’t leave these as part of your tip:
No.
No. No. No.
Bad Christian. Bad! No!
As I put it in the book:
Why would anyone think that tricking and disappointing a broke food-service employee would be a good way of spreading the Christian good news?
Remember, whatever you do, wherever you go, whenever you tip, you are representing Jesus. And what makes the most difference in that moment isn’t your words or your theology; it’s your grace, love, and generosity.
If we miss that, we’ve missed the gospel.
-
An update: The story has now been confirmed by several press accounts, but with a few detail changes. The pastor had been described as male by the reddit poster, but was in fact a woman. The size of the party was 10, not 20. And the server who posted the image—and has now been fired—was not the same server who waited on the table. I’ve made a few minor wording changes to the post to reflect the updated details.
And hey, if this is your first exposure to my blog, welcome! Here’s a special message just for you.
Audiobook, duuuuuuuude.
Whew! The last few weeks have been a whirlwind!
I got a cold, then the flu, and somehow managed to throw my back out in the midst of it all. (“Throw my back out” is one of those phrases that makes you feel really old, by the way.)
Then this past weekend, I was speaking at the annual conference of my organization, The Gay Christian Network, where I got to meet hundreds of other Christians (gay, straight, bi, and trans) and hear so many wonderful stories.
I am exhausted, but happy.
That’s not all! You know what’s making my week even brighter? I just got news from my publisher, Jericho Books, that there’s going to be an audiobook version of TORN this year.
…And I get to read it myself!
You guys. I’m so excited. I love listening to audiobooks, and from the earliest moments of writing TORN, it was always my dream to someday get to do an audio version of it. I used to read it out loud to myself while I was writing it, both to ensure it flowed and to see what it would sound like if I ever got to do an audiobook.
I didn’t think it would ever happen, but it’s happening!
But with that exciting piece of news comes a sobering realization: That means I have to do… the voices.
Dun dun DUNNNNNNN!
As I said, I love listening to audiobooks. I listen to them on the drive to and from work. So I know that one of the most important features of a good audiobook is a compelling narrator who is able to get into the story and portray the different characters with their voice.
It’s not just a matter of immersing you in the story; it’s also a practical consideration. In print, quotation marks and paragraphs help you distinguish one character from another in a dialogue:
“You mean like this?”
“Exactly.”
“Cool.”
“I think so.”
When you can’t see the page, it’s the narrator’s job to convey that information through audio cues.
Of course, TORN isn’t fiction. But because it’s filled with personal stories and quotes from other books, there are a lot of different “voices” represented. Today, I started going through a copy of the book, marking each new character or voice with a sticky note. About halfway through the book, with the pad almost gone, I started panicking.
How am I supposed to communicate all these characters?
“What are you worried about, Justin?” my close friends will probably say. “You do voices all the time!”
It’s true. Spend much time with me in person and you’re likely to hear me break into some silly character as a gag. I do over-the-top accents and cartoon character impersonations all the time. It’s fun and it makes people smile.
But the voices I do are humorous and exaggerated. They’re absurd caricatures—the California surfer who sounds suspiciously like Crush from Finding Nemo; the stereotypical Southern hick; the rich brat who talks like Thurston Howell III. These aren’t real people. They’re outlandish characters only inspired by reality, kind of like Hollywood movies are “inspired by” true stories.
The people in my book are real, though, and I’m not sure how to do real people’s voices. I don’t want to give Dan Savage an exaggerated foreign accent or turn Philip Yancey into a Ninja Turtle. At least, I don’t think I do.
I’m kind of freaking out a bit here.
So if you should happen to talk to me sometime soon and I say hello to you in four or five different voices to test the sound of each, well, you’ll just know that I’m practicing to make my audiobook the best it can be.
Either that, or I’ve completely lost it. It’s a 50/50 toss-up, really.
