Episode 12: “I Want You to Know Freedom,” with Jennifer Knapp
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Show Notes
Co-hosts
Jeff Chu
Find Jeff online: @byJeffChu on Instagram or @JeffChu on Twitter. You can also subscribe to Jeff’s newsletter, Notes of a Make-Believer Farmer on Substack.
Sarah Bessey
Find Sarah online: @SarahBessey on Instagram or @SarahBessey on Twitter. You can also subscribe to Sarah’s newsletter, Field Notes on Substack. Explore Sarah’s recent books on her website.
Featured guest
Jennifer Knapp
Jennifer Knapp is an acclaimed singer-songwriter who has won multiple Dove Awards and been nominated for multiple Grammys. Her albums include Kansas, Lay It Down, The Way I Am, Letting Go, Set Me Free, and most recently, Love Comes Back Around. She's had a remarkable and eclectic career, touring with bands like Jars of Clay but also performing at Lilith Fair. Jennifer is the author of the memoir Facing the Music. She also completed a master's in theological studies at Vanderbilt Divinity School. As the first major artist in the Christian music world to speak openly about LGBTQ identity, her unique position created opportunities for national dialogue, including appearances on Larry King Live and the TEDx stage. In 2012, Jennifer founded the nonprofit organization Inside Out Faith, through which she continues to speak and perform nationally as an advocate for LGBTQ and faith issues.
Learn more about Jennifer on JenniferKnapp.com, or follow @JenniferKnappMusic on Facebook, @JenniferKnappMusic on Instagram, or Jennifer’s YouTube.
“I walk in this door because I really do believe in liberation. And I really do believe that we were not born in a cage. I hope that you are here because you’re looking for the open door and that when you see it, that you will come fly with me.”
Thanks to our producer, SueAnn Shiah, who also provided the music for this episode, you can listen to her album A Liturgy for the Perseverance of the Saints on Spotify, Apple Music, Youtube, or Bandcamp and find her at @sueannshiah on Instagram and @sueannshiah on Twitter.
Transcript
Part 1: Introduction
JEFF: Louisville Seminary is a progressive theological school located in Louisville, Kentucky, where questions are welcome and diversity is valued. They offer the master of divinity, master of arts in religion, master of arts in marriage and family therapy, and the doctor of ministry degrees, as well as their dual degree options. All half-time or full-time master’s level students are guaranteed a 100 percent tuition scholarship. For Evolving Faith listeners, if you apply to a master’s program by December 1, your application fee will be waived. To learn more, to schedule a visit or to apply, visit www.louisvilleseminary.edu.
JENNIFER: I found in that candidness a turning towards people. And what that's done in my life as a human being and how transformative the sharing of a story has been, no matter how unjust or inequal or imbalanced it is, that story serves us very well. It served me very well, even when I haven't really enjoyed it that much.
JEFF: Hi everyone. I'm Jeff Chu.
SARAH: And I'm Sarah Bessey. Welcome back to The Evolving Faith Podcast. We are on Twitter and Instagram as @EvolvFaith and on Facebook as Evolving Faith. Thank you so much for joining us today. We are so glad that you are here.
JEFF: Today, we will be hearing from the award-winning singer-songwriter Jennifer Knapp. I met Jennifer more than a decade ago when I interviewed her for my book, Does Jesus Really Love Me? I traveled with her to Lynchburg, Virginia, and it was so moving to me to see how people responded to her music and to her story of coming to a place of honesty about her sexuality. I could tell that her songs had been a mainstay of people's personal soundtracks, but I have to be honest, Sarah, I didn't grow up listening to much Christian music. Did you?
SARAH: I did. I’m sure that surprises nobody. I listened to a lot of Christian music, especially through the ’80s and ’90s. And in particular, actually, I listened to a lot of Jennifer Knapp. I was actually in university when she kind of hit the scene with her first album, Kansas, in the late ’90s. And so that CD was just in constant rotation in my dorms. And granted, I did go to like a Christian university in the States and it was kind of that late ’90s peak of coffee shop culture in Christian spaces, which maybe it was like that and ska, which was never really my lane. I was maybe a bit too old for that, but you know, for sure, I was definitely into all the Christian music, you know, particularly her work. It meant a lot to me and it was deeply formative. I could honestly, if I think back on it right now, if I were to turn it on, I could probably sing every line.
JEFF: I went to a Christian school for junior high and high school, and chapel every Friday was basically the one place where I was exposed to contemporary Christian music. So like, what was—what was that Carman song? Was it? It was very dramatic. Was it “The Champion” or “The Warrior” or something?
SARAH: There was definitely a champion, unless you're talking about “Witch’s Invitation,” which we won't even touch.
JEFF: And then there was a Sandi Patty song, “Via Dolorosa” and then some song about colors. Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?
SARAH: Not entirely.
JEFF: Well, people would do these really dramatic skits to these songs, and then we would be invited, right? Every head bowed, every eye closed, to raise our hands if we wanted to give our lives to Jesus one more time.
SARAH: I'm feeling just a little bit personally attacked because that was absolutely my little bubble. I did so many living videos. That's what we used to call them—living videos like that. Just bless it. Like for some reason though, I remember I was always cast as like the temptress or the villain. I'm not really sure what that was about.
JEFF: No comment. I don't know anything about any of this. And I think my bubble was slightly different because my parents were immigrants and the soundtrack of my childhood was really classical music and especially the stuff I had to listen to because I learned violin through the Suzuki method. And then it was the Carpenters and Carole King, which my parents had on vinyl. So I can still do some of the fingerings of the Bach double, even though I haven't picked up a violin in years. And I think I still know most of the words to “Top of the World” and “You've Got a Friend.” But I remember when DC Talk came and performed in my school gym and that was such a big deal for some of my classmates and I had absolutely no clue who they were. But I remember being super confused about these guys who were rapping about Jesus. It was so strange.
SARAH: Literally two days ago, my husband was in the kitchen singing their “I Love Rap Music” song, which I don't even know what recess of his memory he pulled that out of and our teens did not understand what was going on.
JEFF: There's a song called “I Love Rap Music”? How is that a song that your husband was singing?
SARAH: You know, it is a remarkable thing what still remains in your brain so many years later. I don’t understand how some things can stay with us. I wish we had a lot more say about what lives in our mind rent free because I grew up on equal parts of like old school country like Johnny Cash, and rock, ’90s country. I mean, yes, I'm from Alberta, after all. And of course, you know, Christian music, right? It was even deeply formative in our family's conversion story. Music really shapes us. It forms a lot of our identity, like you said, that kind of that soundtrack almost for our lives. And so when I listen to Jennifer's albums, suddenly, magically, I'm back in Tulsa in my early 20s with some of my roommates, and we're in deep conversation about whether or not Ross and Rachel were like, really on a break. So I think a lot of our audience grew up on or did listen or have some adjacency to CCM in their life as well. I mean, I still love Rich Mullins myself. I mean, Christian music kind of had its heyday there, especially I think, because there was both the praise and worship music, which has kind of become the dominant force in the genre now and then there was that type that we call CCM or contemporary Christian music, which was maybe more where Jennifer fit at the time. And there were a few bands making a lot of, you know, very thoughtful music, exploring their faith practice and theology then as now. And of course, I was a big Lilith Fair girl as well, which I'm sure you're not surprised. And Jennifer, you know, she somehow fit equally in that festival scene and the CCM scene, which was very rare and I really loved.
JEFF: I don't think I've ever told you I went to Lilith Fair once. And I was so surprised because there was a lot of pot smoke and there were a lot of lesbians. And I didn't know what to do. Anyway. I believe Jennifer Knapp also, to bring things back around, toured with DC Talk for a bit.
SARAH: I know that it isn't fair to lock Jen in with my memories of the late ’90s and particularly how, you know, her music was kind of a soundtrack during that season. But she has grown and and changed and become more fully herself and evolved so much just like we all have, and some of her growth and evolution we've been a witness to at certain aspects. And then at other times, this has been a deeply private thing. And I loved how she navigated that process. And I have so much respect for her, both as an artist and as a human being. And so at that event, she shared so much of that private evolution with us, and it honestly felt like a real honor.
JEFF: So this seems like a good moment to share a bit of her bio for those who don't know Jennifer Knapp. She is an acclaimed singer-songwriter who has won multiple Dove Awards and been nominated for multiple Grammys. Her albums include Sarah Bessey's dear Kansas, as well as Lay It Down, The Way I Am, Set Me Free, and most recently, Love Comes Back Around. She's had a remarkable and eclectic career, touring with bands like Jars of Clay but also performing, as we mentioned, at Lilith Fair. Jen is the author of the memoir Facing the Music. She's an insatiably curious and thoughtful human. And a few years ago, she completed a master's in theological studies at Vanderbilt Divinity School. So here is Jennifer Knapp speaking to us from Evolving Faith 2019 in Denver, Colorado. And because apparently we have to do this, there might be an F-word in there somewhere. And Jen is an artist so for the sake of the integrity of her talk, we're not going to bleep it out.
Part 2: Jennifer’s Talk
JENNIFER: So today we're talking about evolving faith in story. I had a long debate about like how deep I would get into my own evolving faith, and I think I'm only going to touch on it a little bit. And what I decided that I would talk about today is the story of LGBTQ story. So the experience that I've had in that kind of, what is it, a babushka? Like a Russian doll inside of a Russian doll. So I'm going to start with a little anecdote about my own story.
So imagine, if you will, April 13, 2010, and I am waist deep in water in the middle of a river in the middle of Tennessee. Now I'm imagining that at least 10 percent of you in the room thought I was about ready to be baptized. Nah, I was actually fly fishing. And that's the biggest secret I'm going to tell you today about me is that I fly fish. And I'm so scared of talking about this hobby of mine, because I think it's going to feed into stereotypes that I'm a lesbian. I knew you would laugh at that. That's so ridiculous. But here I am and I'm totally butching it up. And my phone goes off, and I get a text that I've been waiting on for three weeks. My gut. You know how that happens when you know that you're about ready to get the information. And it's not a surprise, really, but your whole body just lights up. So this beautiful, sunny day is rescued by the fact that it's sunny because I've caught shit for fish. And then my phone goes off and I'm like, “Oh,” and I don't know what to do. I don't know whether to be excited, nervous, scared. But here I am just standing in the middle of a river and I pull out from my lesbian fishing vest my lesbian phone, and it says “It's out”. So it's a message from—God, don't you hate it when you tell like, “I got a message from my manager.”
So I get a message from my manager at the time telling me that the press release of my coming out has been released. So Reuters has done it, Christianity Today has published a story, and The Advocate Today or The Advocate has published a story, and they agreed to do this simultaneously. And the reason why I say this had taken three weeks longer than I thought is that I'd done interviews way long ago. I mean, I've been gay for a very long time, and apparently, I had to wait for the media to confirm it in order for it to be true.
So here I am, I'm waiting for this. And I got bumped. It was supposed to happen weeks before, and I got bumped because more famous people than me were coming out as gay and like Ricky Martin, the guy that pushed me aside. They're like, “Okay, we're really excited that there's a Christian coming out because this is going to be good.” And they're like, “Oh wait, Ricky Martin, he's so sexy.” So I got pushed for that. And so I'm waiting and I'm waiting for the story to break. And so what I can tell you is like, like, here's the funny thing about stories. Like, strangely enough, we're always in them. You're building a story today. I'm building a story today. At that moment, I was having a story that I didn't know that I was going to tell ever. And here my phone goes off. It's like this moment. And I just went, “Well, there went that. There's that on the fan.” And I put it back in my pocket and I went back fishing and I knew, I knew fundamentally that my world is going to change a bit because I could just tell people around town when I'd moved back into Nashville and they were like, “Well, is she, isn’t she?” You could just hear this like a bad fart behind me, like you could just hear the whispers as I walked through a room. Only me, that is not on my script.
It's the weird catch-22 of being gay, and in particular the weird catch-22 of being gay inside of a conservative Christian community. I would guess many people won't argue with me. There's a thing about an LGBTQ story is that everyone assumes that you are straight until you are not. So the catch-22 is: Do I tell you this information I don't think is particularly special or noteworthy? Anyone here done an international press release about who they want to sleep with? Anyone? Seriously, where is Ricky? It's unusual to have the person that I love be the subject somebody —somebody wants to print a story about. It wasn't really even about me or it necessarily is about this idea of something that I’d done. But the catch-22 is that if I don't tell something, I'm lying, right? I'm in the closet. This kind of burden of disclosure I want you to think about about LGBTQ story. We talk about what it means in our communities and talk about the LGBTQ story. Think for a second for me, with me, about the burden on every person to tell something about themselves that is unusual. Because I guarantee you they may not have had that person—If you as a queer person of faith... It's on us, right? To disclose. Otherwise everyone assumes that I'm straight or whispers that I'm holding a secret.
And I debated long and hard about how to tell it. I debated whether or not this fact is important for you to know. And then I made a decision somewhere in there that was, I thought, two things. I thought, “Man, this will be so awesome. I'll tell this story and the Christians will go away. Thank God. I will be left in peace to my life of faith, quietly in the river. I will never have to go to church again. This will be fantastic.” I never thought I'd be back in here. I didn't want to see you again. I don't mean to be rude. I'm touched. We'll get to that later. But the part of that, that I decided to lean into, because, one, it was a necessity for me and my own personal story and my own journey that I just chose. And it was a necessity of my integrity. And when I say it that way, I just feel like, well, it's a necessity of your integrity. I don't mean it that way. It's just like I just couldn't in my own ethic and in my own skin and like thinking about my mom and my grandma and the people around me who see me in my PJs and go "Damn Knapp, you put on a little weight." Those people in my life who are my friends, who know me, who know the lesbian well before Reuters made it true.
I told that story because I just, I made that choice. I'm like, I'm not going to have the whisper fart behind me. If you're going to talk about me, here's a fun thing that that does when you do that. This is the fun thing that's done for me is I am such a candid person now. Like, what do you want to say to me? Are you freaked out right now? Are you a little bit uncomfortable? No, you're good. I hear that and I even, I've found that that's even been a benefit. As a sidebar, I found that that blessing in that, the crucible of that and how difficult that was, that candidness I've really appreciated. I found it in my own life, with my own anger, my own rage, with other people in my life. I know what's the problem. I turn and I kind of go, “Okay, I've done that. I know I can do a lot of other things.” The practice of that one moment. Does that make sense? Yeah.
So I chose that as a necessity of my own integrity. And I say that not for my own benefit. What I want to talk about is the thing that I had next on the list. Well, let me say this. What I discovered is, one, in the last ten years, that proximity breaks down prejudice. As I've shared my own story and I've talked about it, I've discovered a couple of things. And one, I would say that I think it really has gotten better. I hate cliches. It really has gotten better to a certain degree out there. We're talking about LGBTQ issues a lot. There are a lot of queer people on the stage, and I really, honest to God, I never thought I'd see this day. And I can definitely tell you on April 13, 2010, that I thought that this was done, like it was a nuclear bomb that was going off in my relationship with the church.
The sec—but the, ahh I forget what I was going to say, inside of that. But here's what I'm going to get into is that part of it, the thing that concerns me over and over again, as I've embraced my own faith, and and and kind of I'm skipping ahead and over the part of my story that, that has led me back to this place and leaning back in and telling this story, not just as the fact, but filling in the gaps is because, one, I care about a lot of the people that I've met. I found in that candidness and turning towards people and what that's done in my life as a human being and how transformative the sharing of a story has been, no matter how unjust or inequal or imbalanced it is, that story serves us very well. It's served me very well, even when I haven't really enjoyed it that much.
Story gives me the opportunity to give you, to fill in the blanks that I'm not peculiar. I'm particular. It's kind of that simple. One of the things that I was going to say in here, is that proximity, and proximity breaking down prejudice, I found that in my own personal experience, the worst things that have ever been said to me, about me, or for me in regards to my sexual orientation—you know, “You're going to go to hell.” “You should set yourself on fire with gasoline.”—these things have never been said to my face, actually.
I've been really fortunate. I've had a supportive family. I've had a supportive community around me. Some of the things that have been said to me I know for a fact have been said to the faces of others. I don't know what it is. I take it I'm pretty intimidating because I'm pretty sure that nobody's said that to me ever to my face. They've had their own whisper farts. That's the last time I'm going to use that.
The worst things that have ever been said to me have been said anonymously, have been said from a great distance. And somehow what happens when people turn to me and see my face and see my story, the body, I can tell somebody is coming up to get ready to go, “I'm going to, you know, I'm going to tell them the holy, right? I'm going to tell her the holy righteous truth.” And then it turns into, you know, “Hi, I really like your music.” A couple of people have been able to stutter out how they don't agree with my lifestyle, and I'm like, “Have you been in my house? Have you had one of my barbecues like this? You don't know.” Even more so, as I've talked about my own story, I will say that I found that everybody has a story. Somebody will tell me a story about their own coming out. Somebody will tell me a story about their own religion and their own faith. Everybody has a story. I don't want to slight it. I just believe more and more in it. So I had aims today of coming up and saying, I believe that one of the things that's happened in the last ten years since I've told you and started to tell my story, is I believe it is now an age of the liberation of the gay voice inside of our faith communities. Well, you're clapping. Fine. Go ahead.
I so want to believe that. And yesterday I was in tears because I don't believe it. I keep holding hope and I know that things have changed, so I claim it. I absolutely claim that. I don't want to take one step back. I know that my life is great. I love my life. I have a holy life. It's, it's a, it's a blessing. But I get worried because I think about the lesbian bar I play at in Philly. It's, it was, it was one of the first times I went to—it was the only time I've actually been to a lesbian bar. It's the only one I've ever been to. I was so scared going in there. I was afraid I'd see leather and chains and, and that some gruff lady would take me by the arm and go, “Come over here, baby. You're coming with me.” Did that really happen? [Audience: “Does it happen?”] I don't know. It didn't happen to me. It was, it was a normal place. I had this, I had this imagination of what this would be. And I walk into a room and it's a room full of people. It's a bar like any other bar. And there are freaks in that bar, just like any other bar that I've been into. Trust me, there are some real, there are some freaks in this room. I don't understand you. I look at you and I'm going, “I'm out. Work around. Avoid the crazy.”
I go into that bar one day, actually, and it was a time where I was, I was debating about how, I don't know if I was debating, but I know that when I played my faith-based music, I was just always kind of really struggling with it because I was trying to move on. And I also felt like this, these tinges of shame still like, how can I play this stuff? Because I hear these other voices in my head going, “Yeah, you're not a legitimate anything. You're not a legitimate person of faith, so how can you play these songs? You’ve ruined them by you playing them.” Like “Wait.” And I'd start to play them because people would yell them out. And when you're in a lesbian bar and a couple of girls have a couple of Red Bulls and vodka inside of them, and they say “Play ‘Martyrs and Thieves.’” After the third time, and as they inch closer, you play “Martyrs and Thieves.”
What I learned that day actually was, this was actually in Philadelphia at the time that happened, It was 200 or 300 people in that room. And they taught me something. They turn that, they turn that place into, they demanded that place be turned to a place of worship. They did. I wasn't comfortable with it. I'm not a worship leader. I'm like, “Why do you guys even want to do this? Let's drink.” And they're like, “Yes. And sing these songs.” Because they weren't allowed to do it anywhere else. They weren't allowed to do it in their churches. They were scared to do it in their churches. They were intimidated. So they took it and they did it wherever they were. And they taught me something in between. But I don't know if it's liberated. I see it happening more and more in my churches, in churches that I go to and hang out in. Did I lose my mic? I feel like I've lost it somewhere. It is, it got caught in my hair.
I get upset because I think about my LGBTQ friends, and I think about progressive Christianity, and I think about the mark that LGBTQ people have had to make in order to be understood. Like, how do I say this nicely? Most people who are progressive say, “I'm progressive because I understand social justice. I'm woke. I like gay people. I've got gay friends. I've got Black friends. I know people who fly fish.” This story is about how we reject the LGBTQ community inside of conservative communities over and over again. And it's published, it's print, and somebody comes out as affirming, as an ally, and my phone blows up. I learn about people I didn't even know about. I don't know what hanging out here. And I kind of go, “Well, how come we're still singing in bars?” How come you're here? How come we're here?
Well, I'm going to close with this. I was laying down in bed last night. I didn't know what to say. My whole speech has been blown up. I didn't, I'm just kind of, I didn't like it. I'm laying there and one of my friends who—I'm just going to brag about it—he happens to be a pastor, so it makes me feel like I went to church yesterday.
And he said the most innocuous thing at the moment, he’s like, “Oh, you're going to, you know, it's kind of like you go to sleep, and you'll have a vision or something or a dream.” And like, all right, whatever. I'm laying down in bed and I get a vision. You know, maybe it's psychosis, I don't know. But I was sitting there and I was laying in bed and I'm not really awake and I see a bird in a cage. It's a gorgeous bird. It's a well-fed bird. It's not sickly. It's just there. Sitting there. As I look at it, I notice and I look around the thing, I see that the door is open and the bird’s just sitting there. The bird doesn’t fly out. I'm like thinking to myself, “Why doesn’t this bird fly away? This bird’s in a cage. It's bound up. All we have ever dreamed for this beautiful thing is to be free. Why are you in a cage?” That's what I thought when I saw that. Why am I in a cage? And I thought, “Oh, that's cool.” Like, I know for a long time I was in a cage and that to see that open door and to fly through it, like it's difficult to recognize it. I'd looked at it a thousand times over the last 20 years of my own life. I'd looked at it, I'd seen it, I didn't recognize it.
And the anger that I feel sometimes about progressive Christianity, the anger I feel sometimes about my church… Here's what I think: Why do we keep looking at the fucking door and not flying out for the freedom that we have? Sorry about my profanity, I just wanted you to know where I'm at. It just happens once, that's all I get. I want you to know freedom. I have. From the day that I started singing, I sang because I knew freedom and joy in my heart and I wanted to share it. That's all I ever wanted to do. And that's the only reason I walk in this room now. Not because I need you to love me, although that would be really nice. I walk in this door because I think about what it means to be loved. I walk in this door because I really do believe in liberation. And I really do believe that we were not born in a cage. I hope that you are here because you're looking for the open door and that when you see it, that you will come fly with me. Thank you.
Part 3: Conversation
SARAH: If you’ve been listening to and loving this podcast, join us for Evolving Faith 2022, the Live Virtual Conference, on October 14 and 15. So many of us are engaging in good, hard, holy work right now to cultivate love, and reimagine and build a faith that works not only for us but for the whole world and to find our way in the wilderness together. We need to be reminded of what matters, who is alongside of us. We need connection, inspiration, good conversations, and laughter, and we need some hope too. We are gathering not in spite of these turbulent times but because of them. So please join us. We have set a big, rowdy table in the middle of the wilderness, and together, we will have a feast. We’re saving a spot for you.
Go to evolvingfaith.com and register today. You won’t want to miss this moment with this community. It’s pretty special. Okay, now back to the show.
JEFF: Sarah. I feel like this might be the gayest episode of this podcast season.
SARAH: Was it the fly fishing?
JEFF: Honestly, I don't know. I don't know lesbian things. I don't know anything about fly fishing. But this talk was spot on for me because I love to talk about stories. I have built my career as a journalist on stories, and I love stories. From the time I was in third grade, when I wrote a very creative, fictional story about one of my teddy bears who was named Bear, I have had a special place in my heart for stories.
SARAH: Maybe we were meant to be friends, because I think my first story was about a snow bunny named Bunny. You are an excellent storyteller, but you’re right, you and Jennifer both have this way of using or deploying story, and then our defenses and our opinions kind of come down. And then it's just like, bam, right between the eyes of the truth.
JEFF: I think she is also especially good at that wry humor that is so hospitable. And the question of disclosure is such an interesting one to me. I'm glad that she reminds us that there's this odd phenomenon where, as a queer person, you often find yourself coming out again and again and again. Even now, when I meet someone new, there's this internal dance I do where I read the room. I try to glean what the reception might be, and I actually consider whether I'll say anything, for instance, about having a husband or just stick to talking about my dog because it feels a little bit risky every single time, especially in church settings.
SARAH: Well, like she said everyone assumes you're straight until you're not. And so this assumption then places that burden—it's an unfair burden on her and on other queer people of faith—to disclose. And I think it's like you said, it's a particular burden in Christian circles where the cost of disclosure could be so extra complicated. Right?
JEFF: I guess it's important to name this, though: nobody is entitled to anyone else's story. And that's true whether we're talking about something related to one's identity like sexuality or something related to one's personal history, whether it's serious or it's insignificant. Or really any aspect of your story, nobody's entitled to it. It's such a gift to be entrusted with someone else's story, but you never have a right to it. And you get to come out or not come out, however it's right for you. And by you I meant the general you, not the specific you, Sarah, and there's no news here. I hear from people who aren't yet ready to come out to loved ones, and they often beat themselves up about it. And the worst word in that context is “should.” It’s full of this kind of second guessing that adds unnecessary stress and burden into a process that's already not that easy.
SARAH: And that's really true. You know, she spoke very candidly about how her hope was not only for the integrity, you know, piece of that, but that she wouldn't, there was that part of her that was hoping that maybe this meant she wouldn't have to deal with, you know, us Christians anymore. She wouldn't have to do things even like Evolving Faith anymore, like it would be some sort of an ending or a form of freedom.
JEFF: So this might sound weird, but what if the freedom that Jen talks about isn't just one open door, but a series of them? What if, what if liberation is going to mean different things at different moments? And it might be the choice to fly through that door, but it might also be the choice to remain in the place for a little while.
SARAH: Mmhmm. I think every act or word of freedom does open another door, even if, you know, for you or for someone else, and it is deeply personal. You know, her story, yours, mine, everyone who's listening. And so the doors are going to be different. The song that we sing is different. And so we even need to adopt, I think, a very generous understanding of what freedom can mean for each of us. Like you were saying, it's, it can sometimes be that choice to fly right through a door. And it can also be a choice to remain. Either one can be freedom.
JEFF: I will say her implicit critique, if I understand it correctly, of progressive Christianity really resonates with me. I know a lot of churches, for instance, during Pride Month, will invite a queer preacher into their pulpit and will invite the local gay men's chorus to sing. But I wonder whether real equality would actually be having a queer preacher in the pulpit on any given Sunday or inviting the gay men's chorus to sing on any given Sunday because we're not gay only during Pride Month. So is your church welcoming and affirming year round or is it just once a year?
SARAH: Yeah, imagine that, eh. I think part of that is also having room for the whole person, you know, to everything that makes us the complicated and wonderful and intricate people that we are, from fly fishing to songwriting, you know, food, Fozzie the dog, you know, beyond. So it's not the same thing, but it reminds me in some ways about how I'll be asked to come and preach at churches on Mother's Day. Like, that's the day that we're going to hear from the ladies, you know, but women can and should be preaching a lot of days and not just about the lady things either, right? So as you said, I think that that inclusion isn't just for Pride Month, but for the life and the health and the flourishing of the whole community around.
JEFF: What are the lady things? I don't know the lady things.
SARAH: You've already well established that.
JEFF: Okay, honestly, this is a hard thing for me to say, but I wonder whether sometimes more progressive folks have some cover because conservative Christians and the stories of what they've inflicted on many LGBTQIA+ folks, those stories are so hard. And what ends up happening is that it gives more progressive people permission to say, “Well, we're not that bad.” Rather than asking, “What would it mean to be truly good neighbors and even friends?”
SARAH: That is such a different posture, I think, and it's a helpful redirect with a very practical and embodied invitation and practice. I think that you're, it takes, even asking that question you had there at the end, what would it mean to be truly good friends and good neighbors? That takes us beyond, you know, clearing that low bar and moves us towards friendship and belonging and love, which reframes the whole community and our place together within it.
JEFF: So let's just name what Jen is hinting at towards the end of her talk. I think she's giving people permission to find their way beyond the church if that is what's necessary for liberation, which may be an uncomfortable thing for you and for me, given that we're church geeks. But both you and I have had to walk out the church doors in different seasons of our lives, too, and we just happened to find our way back, which is not true for everyone.
SARAH: Well, and maybe it shouldn't be true for everyone, right? I think that there is something very holy about leaving. I have left; I have also been left. God isn't contained or constrained. And I think that that permission to leave to expand our borders of understanding and belonging is so vital to say out loud, because sometimes we do, you know, find our way back to another intentional form of community, sometimes not. Sometimes it just looks different than we were taught or given room to imagine before. And I think there's still hope for that. But that doesn't change the fact that we still belong in the Big C church. Always. Even if a particular congregation isn't our home, we belong to each other. We belong with God no matter what. And so sometimes, yes, the Spirit is simply leading out and away from the familiar paths of our lives into the wilderness. And we have found, I can testify even to the truth, that altars abound here too.
JEFF: But I'm not going to lie. Ultimately, I would love for the church to be a place where everyone can find their can find their belonging. But I also know that the church is too human an institution for that to be the reality right now, at least as it is. And even as we record this, we're in this season of denominational assemblies and from the Southern Baptist Convention to the Christian Reformed Church to my own denomination, the Reformed Church in America, there's been no small amount of awful behavior and toxic theology exposed this year. And it strikes me that at the end of Jen's talk, where she talks about liberation, this is something that she's been thinking about for a long time. This is a theme in her work. She has this wonderful song called “Set Me Free.” And there's a line in that song that I find deeply moving. And it goes like this, “Should I find my resting place amidst the ruins of shame and disgrace?”
SARAH: Mhmm.
JEFF: That line is so chastening to me. Heartbreaking, really. That for so many of us, our experience in the church has been about sitting in the ruins of shame and disgrace. What should be a place of healing and wholeness and love has so often been a venue for pain and fragmentation and destruction. How do we—and by we, I mean both the church and those who have been hurt by it—how do we find our way beyond that? And I don't think it's humanly possible. I think it requires divine intervention, as well as the genuine humility needed for the church to admit what has gone wrong and what has done wrong. And ultimately, I think liberation will ask us to be open to something risky and something scary, making ourselves vulnerable to a group of people who have hurt us before but also trying to trust in the God who we believe will redeem all things.
[ Instrumental Music: It Is Well With My Soul by SueAnn Shiah ]
SARAH: You can find all of the links mentioned on today's show, as well as info about Jennifer Knapp, her songs, and her work in the world, as well as a full transcript of this episode in our show notes over at evolvingfaith.com/podcast. And you can also find me @SarahBessey on social media, and find all the books, newsletter, all the things.
JEFF: Wait, is it slash or backsplash? Backslash, backsplash? I can't even speak any more.
SARAH: Some influencer you are.
JEFF: I'm the worst influencer, but you can sign up for my newsletter at jeffchu.substack.com. I'm also on Instagram, the only social media platform that I actually like at @byJeffChu. The Evolving Faith Podcast is produced by us, Sarah Bessey and Jeff Chu, along with our wondrous colleague, SueAnn Shiah, who also wrote and recorded our music. Thank you so much for listening to this episode of The Evolving Faith Podcast. And until next time, remember that you are loved.
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JEFF: Throughout our time together at Evolving Faith, there is one thing we’ve heard over and over from you: We need community. Being in the wilderness can be really lonely. You can feel too isolated—even those of us who are profoundly shy introverts. We all need companions for the journey. And we need folks to accompany us and be alongside us.
So we are delighted to invite you to join the Evolving Faith Community online, a new space we’ve created—and we hope you will co-create with us—for better conversations, deeper connections, questions big and small, and content that we hope will be inspiring and meet you where you are.
It’s free to join the Evolving Faith Community. Our desire is that you might find some fellow travelers in this oasis with whom you can feel a renewed sense of belonging and maybe even some hope. So come, explore, and share. All you have to do is go to community.evolvingfaith.com and sign up. We can’t wait to greet you. See you there.
