NPR’s gifts of the spirit and the Bible’s strange demands
By Lisa Anderson
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We’re in the midst of the fall public radio pledge drive at KRCC, Colorado Springs’ public radio station, and Ira Glass, host of This American Life, is working his pitch. I think you’ve heard this one:
IG: This is Ira Glass of This American Life. As you consider whether or not you are, in fact, the person that we’re asking, that I’m asking, right now, to give money, I would encourage you to examine your behavior at this exact moment — right this second — are you like Alexandra Roach, a real listener, who found that she could not turn off her public radio station, even during the on-air fund drives:
AR: I couldn’t do it. I would change the channel and I would start listening to another show and it would sicken me, it would drive me crazy. I just couldn’t stand it.
IG: Why?
AR: A pledge drive is better than any other radio show. I don’t know, I?
IG: Oh my God. (laughs)
AR: I hate commercials. I hate commercials.
IG: But Alexandra, the pledge drive is a commercial. (music swells)
IG: If this is you, if you feel like you have to stay with us even during the drive, friend, you are who we’re talking to. You are who I’m talking to right now. I mean, look at yourself. You know what kind of person you are? You’re the kind of person who stays tuned to the public radio station during the pitch break. That is what a hardcore public radio listener you are. And that means that we need your help. You.
Even though I’ve heard this particular pitch several times, it gets me again. I’m beginning my second year as a freeform DJ and I’m still taken with public radio. The eccentric coworkers, the late nights driving home high on good music and the compliments of regular listeners and even the pledge drive itself: It’s just wonderful.
The phone rings.
“KRCC. May I take your pledge?” I’m on a version of auto-pilot that allows me to listen to the radio, answer the phones simultaneously keeping my place in Nickel and Dimed.
“No!” an angry woman replies.
I stop reading.
“I’ll never pledge to KRCC again,” she continues. “That man who was just speaking took God’s name in vain. I don’t talk like that. I don’t let my children listen to talk like that. I don’t support media that air that sort of language.”
That was Ira Glass, I think. Not that man, but The Man: a person whose story, perspective and voice have become such an integral and redemptive force in public radio and story in America — or at least my Friday evenings.
After about thirty seconds more of her frustration, I thank the caller for her feedback — her valuable input — and hang up. The evening jazz DJ, who had been waiting to add this caller’s name to the list of people he would be thanking on the air, looks at me quizzically.
“Ira Glass took God’s name in vain,” I say.
“Oh, God, no.” He feigns horror.
“God, are you serious?” someone else in the room asks.
“God, I hate it when he does that,” the reggae DJ adds.
Their comments are funny. Well delivered, too, but the exchange induces a sort of schizophrenia in me. In the caller’s mind at least, I am Public Radio. Her comments were aimed at me. As Public Radio, I thought her complaint was silly. I thought about all of the films and music and conversations that she would need to shelter her children from if she was offended by an NPR pledge drive promotion.
However, like the caller, I do not use the word “God” flippantly. In fact, I can count on my hands the number of times I’ve done so in my 26 years. And in my mind, my choice is somehow connected to those etched words about taking the LORD’s name in vain. But I’m also aware that we aren’t actually saying his name when we say “Lord” or “God.” Those English terms aren’t equivalents of his Name, the Name that wasn’t to be uttered and could only be pointed to by the word Jehovah. And the comments made by my compatriots were disrespectful to that God — the God I’m trying to know. So there’s static between us, too.
***
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The phone interview for volunteering at KRCC was going really well, when the station manager, Mario, asked: “And where am I calling you?”
“IBS,” I answered, giving him the acronymic (and therefore less-obvious) name of my nonprofit Christian employer.
“Huh,” he mused aloud, “the only IBS I know is the International Bible Society.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s where I work.”
“Do you know why I don’t believe in God?” he asked, hardly pausing.
His story about why he didn’t believe in God was pretty familiar: bad church, bad churchgoers, bad church history.
I confessed that I, too, had a hard time with Christian hypocrisy (who doesn’t?) and the church’s tendency to ignore social justice issues. I submitted that following Christ unfortunately comes at the expense of associating myself with two thousand years of human failures in his name.
Mario was curious to see if his community could sustain a strange element like me. “We’re an inclusive environment, a diverse community.” If I was interested in being part of that community, I was welcome. “But you know who won’t like this?” he asked rhetorically, “The cool people. I can’t wait.” Click.
Great, I thought, I’m going to be the token Christian. I imagined Mario’s cool people. People with smooth voices, expansive vocabularies, mad technical skills and an automatic dislike for me.
***
Among other things, the nonprofit for which I work publishes the Bible. As news of my moonlighting for the local NPR affiliate station spread, my colleagues met me with a range of responses, from ignorance to incredulity to enthusiasm.
Okay, maybe only one enthusiasm.
Because I live in a region of the country that seems to mistake American patriotism and GOP affiliation for the fruit of the spirit, I was most often asked why I would want to involve myself with an obviously liberal entity. A concerned co-worker would then wait for me to say something. It was as though I could make everything okay again by explaining that the radio station was my new mission field. Infiltrating the other side and all that.
Sometimes I was tempted to say something palatable just to avoid the work of explaining. But, I could only offer that I really enjoy public radio and that I want to help make it happen.
***
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I haven’t introduced myself to the KRCC staff as Lisa the Christian. And I thought that was okay until my second outing. Adam, another DJ, and I were standing in the street, leaning against my car after his shift. It was dark and I watched his confusion evolve in the strobe light of the passing cars.
A: So, where do you work?
L: A Christian non-profit.
A: —- (shocked)
L: Uh, I am a Christian.
A: (in a slightly too loud, relieved tone) Oh, you’re shitting me.
L: No, really. I’m a Christian.
(awkward pause)
A: Are you very Christian?
L: What do you mean?
A: Are you a FUNDAMENTALIST?
L: What do you mean by “fundamentalist?”
A: Do you hate homosexuals?
L: Adam, you know I don’t hate homosexuals. Half of the people we work with are homosexual.
At this point, it is only fair to mention that the listening area we serve includes large numbers of conservative, politically active, believers. The DJ training for volunteers like me includes a mini-lecture on the relationship between our station and the very vocal Christian right within our community.
Station lore has it that a local church has commissioned several of its members to monitor the station around the clock and complain to our archenemy, the FCC, whenever we inadvertently curse on air or play music with lyrics they don’t like. I’m thinking that it is this Christian who comes most immediately to Adam’s mind. That I would call myself by this name must seem unbelievable.
Adam mumbled something about his grandmother and dinner and excused himself. So we didn’t have a chance to discuss the why or how of my belief or the way words failed us when their sub-culturally charged definitions broke down.
Our next conversation orbited tightly around Bjork’s appearance on Space Ghost Coast to Coast. I was left wondering which Christian prototype — the televangelist, the culturally insensitive spinster missionary — Adam had ascribed to me. He did have our previous relationship to look back to, but judging by his reaction to my coming out, he thought that his earlier impressions (ostensibly of my being interesting or thoughtful) and my profession of faith to be incompatible.
Adam could have dismissed me immediately if I had been Christian in a way that he recognized. He might not have wasted his time befriending me. He already knew that he didn’t like those people. But when the label came too late in our friendship, Adam felt deceived by me in some way.
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| Bridging the God Gap |
And this is where things become difficult for me. Because I feel like a translator. Or an evangelist. Or the child of a nasty divorce. I champion the causes of both organizations. At IBS I tell everyone how great it is to be part of a small band of people so connected by a cause that they’ll stay up until two in the morning playing requests for forty listeners. So devoted that they’ll answer phones and solicit funds to keep a good thing going. At KRCC I want to talk with the guy drawing ornate demon horns on a picture of Dr. Dobson and tell him that there are many sorts of Christians and that he might actually like some of them.
But most of the time I just want to do the things that drew me to these strange causes in the first place. I want to see the beauty of the scriptures and feel connection to America’s amazing, ongoing story. I want to share these separate wonders with people and find out that they are somehow part of what makes me whole. I want to learn to listen better.
And that means I need your help. You.
Lisa Anderson is a writer and DJ in Colorado Springs.
Wonderful. I have championed NPR as my favorite Christian radio for some time now. There is a truly amazing amount of Christian-underground activity on NPR… which is how it should be.
Thanks so much for this post, it’s great! I am a huge fan of NPR, particularly This American Life, and it is neat to hear about some of the behind-the-scenes, and to hear that there are some Christians like you there.
Great post, Lisa–I love that you are standing where you are–literally in the gap, where most Christians (and non-Christians) are afraid to go, but where we’re all called to stand.
I live in the Springs and listen to two radio stations, primarily: KRCC and KGFT. 🙂
p.s. I’ve had those conversations w/Mario, too. Very cool guy.
Curious, PM, why there should be “Christian underground” activity anywhere? What call do Christians have to be secretive? I’m not suggesting that Anderson is — she seems very forthright — but you seem to be talking about a kind of low level deception. If Christians use these terms, why should secularists trust them?
Thank you for this excellent essay, which resonates with me. I’m Jewish, and while Judaism doesn’t necessarily have the same connotations in America today that Christianity does, I still run into people who are baffled that I can be simultaneously progressive and religious.
I especially like your point about feeling like the child of a divorce, advocating for both sides. And your description of your NPR friend feeling somehow betrayed when your Christianity came to light also rang a bell for me.
Good stuff; thank you.
Tom,
Because Christians are called to be “…in the World, but not of it”. The Gospel can be heard much more clearly when it’s not being drowned out by the choir.
That’s fine — but what’s it got to do with undercover. You want to share the gospel with me, fine — but you gotta do it straight up. Try and trick me by coming in on the sly, and I have no reason to trust you.
Anderson’s straight up, and probably much more persuasive to her friends for it.
There’s nothing “tricky” about being underground. The Gospel is opposed to the culture (including the “church” culture). As St. Francis famously said, “Preach the Gospel at all times. When necessary, use words.”
Great writing. This was an excellent post. I think it raises some great points about Christian people working in media environments that can often be hostile to their faith.
Obviously, I think this is great stuff — I published it. But I’m curious about the responses which seem to perceive Lisa as discriminated against by secularism. Tom, you mention “media environments that can often be hostile to their faith.” And yet Lisa also works for IBS, a much bigger and more influential media environment, and there her colleagues are also hostile to her “faith” (that secular radio is just fine). I see the same sentiment in PM Summers comments about working underground. Lisa balances both her worlds, rather than working underground at the radio station to seduce secularists to the gospel. I’d have had a problem with this piece if she was doing that, just as I’d have a problem if she was really working at IBS to subtly undermine the faith of her colleagues.
Interesting. As an out, gay man, and a practising Episcopalian (yes, an Episcopalian is a Christian) Lisa wrote:
— Adam could have dismissed me immediately if I had been Christian in a way that he recognized. He might not have wasted his time befriending me. He already knew that he didn’t like those people. But when the label came too late in our friendship, Adam felt deceived by me in some way. —
It sounds like almost every gay coming out story I have ever heard. People reactions to me or others NOT being a “pedophile” and NOT being out to “convert the world” causes a disconnect, because for so man folks, that is the type of clap-trap they are taught to believe. The feeling of deceptions is extremely common, especially when you find yourself telling a good friend. They are always, “why didn’t you tell me sooner”.
Try being gay and a christian, and out. The disconnect there is also unfathomable from both sides. Then add to that working for the NPR/PBS affiliate in San Francisco…
Finally, if folks don’t understand how you can be christian and liberal/progressive, its our own fault. Glad you are coming out to so many folks, Lise.
Dear Jeff Sharlet:
You seem to think it would be wrong for a Christian to try to influence secularists toward Christian belief or for a secularist to try to influence Christians toward secularist beliefs. But why? You say you’d have a ‘problem’ with it but you don’t give any reasons why that would be wrong.
And if (as it appears to me) you are thus urging everyone to privatize their faith, isn’t that itself a kind of ‘evangelism’? Aren’t you saying ‘my take on spirituality, faith, and public discourse is the only right one’?
Tim Keller
As a professor at a conservative evangelical university who maintains a politically and socially progressive lifestyle (big NPR fan), I have a great deal of empathy for this dual existence Lisa describes. I’m not sure why I persist at it, except that maybe the dissonance feeds some hunger I have. It does make for an interesting life when you don’t live in an echo chamber. The struggle is finding the authentic you in the various roles you play each day, and discovering that true faith transcends the culture of the workplace. Good work, Lisa.
I am not a christian and am opposed to the fundamentalists, such as James Dobson, trying to impose their morals and values on the whole of America by force. I have no problem with christians practicing what they believe and I believe Miss Anderson is a fine example. Being able to see both sides while still adhearing to her own faith is what the first amendment is all about. The fundamentalists argue that they are being pushed into a corner, unable to express their religion freely when, in actuality, they are being regulated because they are constantly attempting to trample on the rights of others. Even though the Bush administration feels that pushing towards theocratic rule is part of their mandate, America will not stand for a reversal of the progress we have made since the days of the Quakers.
Man, I knew all the cool kids worked for NPR. Kudos, Lisa, for going God’s work 🙂
…um, some would say “doing” God’s work. But not me. No. I’m countercultural…
Tim, Jeff didn’t explicitly say that his “take on spirituality, faith and public discourse is the only right one” but each of us has taken different paths in life that determine who we individually are at the moment. The lessons we learn through our free will have given us very personal insights into how we live in the moment and how God deals with us, and our perceptions and our faith of what God expects from us. My wife has similar “outward” religious beliefs as I, but deep down, her expectations and personal relationship with God is much different than mine because we have different sets of learning experiences and trials to overcome. Which makes us “personally” approach God differently. So while our “public” manifestations of religious belief seem the same (Sunday church meetings, midweek youth meetings, praying with family and personally, tithing, reading the scriptures,etc.) we each have,individually, as you say, “privatized” our faith as an underlying current beneath our public “outward appearances.” Being Evangelical, Catholic or Mormon might give us differing departure points to understanding our spirituality and our relationship to God, but we are all moving forward together towards finding out Truth. As we come together in the workplace, and at church, we are always “evangelizing” a bit of our personal relationship with God, into the public arena. That’s what Christ said when he said “let your light shine”. I have learned good lessons from NPR stories that have added to my faith, and likewise, my belief in Christ leads me forward and asks me to show my faith by doing good to others. If I follow the spiritual urgings, hopefully and sincerely I hope it will be an example that others see, so they do good.
Tim, you have me all wrong. I said I don’t like undercover persuasion. That’s otherwise known as bait-and-switch.
Dear Jeff:
You are right. I had you all wrong! Apologies.
Tim
Lisa,
Thanks for this excellent piece and for the work you are doing at KRCC.
I am Presbyterian minister and I a provide progressive social and political commentary for KQED, the San Francisco NPR station mentioned by A.J. above. (For you KQED listeners, I’m a regular contributer to the Perspectives program).
While I’ve not had the experience of folks at KQED acting weird around me because of my faith (in fact I’ve been received at KQED with great hospitality and kindness), from the feedback I’ve gotten, I do get the sense that some of KQED’s listening audience is confused when they hear a Protestant clergyman speaking out in support of Gay marriage or against the war in Iraq.
I find that I enjoy the the work of helping the American public understand that Christians come in all different political stripes. It’s good work, and I’m glad you’re doing that work also.
Thanks again for the great piece.
Best,
Ben
Jeff,
I guess, to me, what came across was that a Christian at the public radio station was a much more exotic commodity than a public radio person at IBS. Although the author mentioned some incredulous, questioning reactions from the folks at IBS, it seems the thrust of the piece was describing the reactions of her co-workers at the radio station.
There could be a lot more to it, but the piece doesn’t mention a frienship at IBS being made suddenly awkward by the revelation that she works at public radio, but it mentions the opposite.
Based on nothing more than a hunch, I’d bet that the author’s experience as a Christian in an overtly irreligious media environment is a lot more common in America than her experience as a public radio advocate in an overtly religious media environment.
It’s something I think a lot of Christians in newsrooms and other media workplaces can relate to – being the office churchgoer.
Lisa, thanks for a great article. I have just returned to public radio after an 18 year hiatus–I’m volunteering on a new low-power FM station run by the local Environmental Center. I play music and do a Podcast digest. I’m also a pastor at a Lutheran (ELCA) church. It’s been an interesting few weeks–the radio folks have been very welcoming and interested in working with me and my wife (a Methodist pastor)to produce a local version of “Speaking of Faith” on American Public Radio–we will be interviewing folks from all over the religious/spiritual landscape and asking questions on “ultimate concerns”, to us the phrase of Tillich. I have to admit that I have not yet “come out” to some members of my congregation who would disapprove of the pastor not using the radio show as an opportunity to preach the Gospel. The truth is, I was attracted to working at the station because the staff and volunteers have a vision and passion for their work (environmental and social justice issues) that I find sadly lacking among most of my congregation. I have noticed that I look forward to my radio gig more so than I do leading a Bible study–this is something I need to spend some serious time reflecting on–what is the form and nature of my call? Thanks for stimulating a great conversation.
Lisa, your essay is so wonderful I feel that I really don’t have to add anything. But of course I want to anyway. I think there are probably lots more of us than we realize, at least I like to hope so.
Not religious, but enjoyed your essay and the many posts. Seems that those who are ethical and value others, as you clearly are and do, can be part of strong, worthwhile communities despite religious “differences” therein.
I appreciate the line that said, “…following Christ unfortunately comes at the expense of associating myself with two thousand years of human failure in his name.” It is much better than the (hopefully disassociative)line I have been using lately (especially since the election) which is, “I am not a Christian. I’m a disciple of Jesus.” Thanks for reminding me that Christianity is a wonder, and that I need to listen to it better.
Thanks Lisa for relating these personal experiences. They are helpful to all of us no matter what “persuasion” we come from/with. I find it interesting when people make comments about Christians and political persuasions. That said adultury, leaving your kids behind in a divorce, greed and avarice are just as sinful as homosexuality – no less so…there is no ‘sinner by degree’ (except for temporal consequences) and all of us have, as the Bible says, “sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” and so I am a sinner every bit as much as any of my homosexual friends (and I DO mean friends.) As God calls me away from a sinful lifestyle He’s calling all people away from such. To break my bread with the poor and shelter the homeless. To visit and care for the sick and rescue the children in this world who are in need. To push away from self centeredness and self focus into other centeredness. It occurs to me that true spirituality and truly following after Jesus has much less to do with politics than it has to do with the human heart. That is why when some of Jesus’ followers wanted him to become a politician and help overthrow the Romans in Israel he refused them…”I am about my Father’s business….” There’s a mystery to this and, in my humble opinion, no political agenda, position, plank or party can ever explain or minimize that. As to following Jesus, I think politics is say down the list. Again, thanks for the thoughtful article.
The last two lines should have read:
“As to following Jesus, I think politics is way down the list. Again, thanks for the thoughtful article.”