Two weeks ago, I saw Fiddler on the Roof for the first time on stage.1 This was not my first time ever seeing it (my sister and I watched the movie version on repeat during one of our summer vacations—thank you, Blockbuster!), but it was the first time I had revisited the story since I was a teenager. I have evolved many times over since those days, becoming an adult, a mother, and a Bible teacher myself, so it’s not surprising that my emotions responded to it this time in very different ways.
One scene in particular keeps churning in my mind. In it, the narrator and main character, a Jewish father named Tevye, is confronted by his daughter, who married a Gentile. This being pre-revolutionary Russia, Tevye is already beset by poverty, political conflict, racism, and rapidly changing times. He has recently survived challenges to his beliefs by two of his other daughters and how their marriages came about, but this one feels far worse. Here is how the scene—which occurs as Tevye is pushing his horseless cart along a lonely dirt road—plays out:
Chava: Papa! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.
Tevye pauses, gives her a hard look, then starts to move on.
Chava: Papa, stop! At least listen to me. Papa, I beg you to accept us.
Tevye: (to himself) Accept them? How can I accept them? Can I deny everything I believe in?…On the other hand, can I deny my own daughter?…On the other hand, how can I turn my back on my faith? On my people? If I try to bend that far, I’ll break…On the other hand…No. There is no other hand!
(to Chava) No, no, no, NO!
Tevye turns away from her. Notes of the song, “Tradition” play dramatically over the scene as he leaves her on the road and pushes the heavy cart away.
Chava: Papa! Papa!
When first I encountered this scene, it was as a young girl who primarily sympathized with Chava. I was lucky compared to her, as I lived securely in a home where I didn’t fear ostracization or rejection by my family for any reason I could imagine. I had the normal feelings of being misunderstood and pushing up against my mother’s traditions and “old-fashioned” ways at times, but I always knew I was loved and never had reason to fear I’d actually be cast out.
Now I see these events through Tevye’s eyes and my heart breaks for them both. Tevye’s convictions were based on scriptural commands which were given to God’s people as they entered their new land. At that time, the people were integrating their lives with people of other faiths and cultures, and mandates2 were given to ensure that God’s people would not abandon their relationship with God for practices which would replace it. Much of the Old Testament revolves around stories where the people failed at this, ended up breaking their promises to God, and fell into patterns of subjection to the powers and practices they allowed to overtake them. The cautionary messages would seem pretty clear.
However, adherence to scriptural mandates without their inherent context leads to conflicts such as the one within Tevye, and they are unnecessary. Tevye had translated the rules against compromising one’s faith into a false choice between his daughter and God (a deeper look would reveal that Gentiles were always destined to be included.3). In Judges chapter 11, Jephthah made a similar error with similar disastrous consequences. Tasked with winning a battle for the people and wracked with insecurity that he could accomplish it, Jephthah made a hasty pledge to God that, if God would give him the victory, then “whatever comes out the doors of my house to meet me when I return safely…shall be the Lord’s, and I will offer it up as a burnt offering.”4 God did not ask for this vow, and God did not need anything from Jephthah to be with Jephthah and act on his behalf. Jephthah made the promise out of his own fear, and when the “what” which came out to greet him upon his return turned out to be a “who” instead—his only child—he projected his guilt onto her and carried out the sacrifice independent of any consultation with God on the matter.
Many parents in the church today are faced with this same false choice, and many children—particularly our LGBTQ+ kids and community—are being harmed as people of God are convinced that choosing God = excommunication. Whatever our traditions, beliefs, or convictions, God is not calling us to kill our children (or anyone!) for them. I do not use that verb lightly, for Jesus taught that our words hold the power to harm at a level equal to murder.5
Consider:
- LGBTQ+ people — who represent more than 7% of the reporting U.S. population — experience religious trauma at disproportionate rates, often at the hands of family and church members.6
- LGBTQ+ children report higher rates of abuse, victimization, and bullying than their heterosexual peers.7
- Approximately 20-40% of homeless youth identify as LGBTQ+.8
- Family conflict about youths’ LGBTQ identities is a factor in housing instability, with 40% of youth who said they had been kicked out and 55% of youth who said they had run away or been abandoned reporting that it had been due to mistreatment or fear of mistreatment related to their LGBTQ identity.9
- 28% of LGBTQ+ youth report experiencing homelessness or housing instability at some point in their lives — and those who did had two to four times the odds of reporting depression, anxiety, self-harm, considering suicide, and attempting suicide compared to those with stable housing.10
- More than 1.8 million LGBTQ+ young people (ages 13-24) seriously consider suicide each year in the U.S. alone — and at least one attempts suicide every 45 seconds.11
- LGBTQ+ youth who report not hearing their parents use religion to say negative things about being LGBTQ were at significantly reduced risk for attempting suicide.12
Mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and physically, we are killing our children in God’s name—even though God specifically spoke against this and pronounced judgment against God’s people for it.13
When our children stop us on the road and beg us to listen to them and accept them, it is better that we put down our carts and do it. We can’t love, learn, or debate theology with the dead.
Footnotes:
- Eternal thanks to Audience of One Productions and their amazing cast and crew. Support your local theater…and ALL the arts! ↩︎
- Numbers 36, Deuteronomy 7, 1 Kings 11, Ezra 9-10, among others ↩︎
- Genesis 12, Isaiah 60, Amos 9, and more ↩︎
- Judges 11:29-31 ↩︎
- Matthew 5:22-26 ↩︎
- https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S027795362200346X?via%3Dihub ↩︎
- https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4706071/ ↩︎
- https://youth.gov/youth-topics/homelessness-and-housing-instability/rates#:~:text=Estimates%20suggest%20that%20as%20many,the%20United%20States%20each%20year. ↩︎
- https://www.thetrevorproject.org/research-briefs/homelessness-and-housing-instability-among-lgbtq-youth-feb-2022/#:~:text=Family%20conflict%20about%20youths’%20LGBTQ,related%20to%20their%20LGBTQ%20identity. ↩︎
- https://www.thetrevorproject.org/research-briefs/homelessness-and-housing-instability-among-lgbtq-youth-feb-2022/ ↩︎
- https://www.thetrevorproject.org/blog/national-estimate-of-lgbtq-youth-seriously-considering-suicide/ ↩︎
- https://www.thetrevorproject.org/research-briefs/religiosity-and-suicidality-among-lgbtq-youth/ ↩︎
- Jeremiah 19 ↩︎
header art by Nieve Andrea
Lucinda S. Sutton 