Tag Archive for oppositional defiant disorder

DN=: Part 15–Homophobic

 

Homo-  Greek prefix meaning “same”

-phobia  from the Greek ?????, meaning “morbid fear or dread”
(A phobia is defined as)  a persistent fear of an object or situation in which the sufferer commits to great lengths in avoiding, typically disproportional to the actual danger posed, often being recognized as irrational.  In the event the phobia cannot be avoided entirely, the sufferer will endure the situation or object with marked distress and significant interference in social or occupational activities. Edmund J. Bourne—The Anxiety & Phobia Workbook

       

So taken literally, to be homophobic should mean to be irrationally and  constantly in fear of being the same, to the point of avoiding conformity even when there is no direct threat to your individualism, and if that conformity proves unavoidable, submitting to it would reduce you to a quivering lump of Jell-O.

 

The word “homophobic” was invented by psychologist and gay activist George Weinberg in the 1960’s, first appearing in print in 1972, when homosexuality was still considered a mental illness by the American Psychiatric Association.

 

An actual phobia, on the other hand, IS a mental illness—a form of anxiety disorder that frequently requires psychiatric intervention to overcome.

 

Now if a person were to freak out being in a room full of homosexuals, perhaps due to a fear that gayness is contagious, and was unable to function for the rest of the day as a result of that trauma, then yes, THAT would be a phobia, specifically, a form of xenophobia.

 

I don’t know any Truthseekers who behave that way.

 

Therefore, I call B.S.

 

CHRISTIAN DN= HOMOPHOBIC

 

 

Since a Truthseeker’s habit is to constantly push the boundaries of his or her comfort zone, fear has no opportunity to enter the equation.

 

For God has not given us a spirit of fearfulness, but one of power, love, and sound judgment. (2 Timothy 1:7 HCSB)

 

 Because fearfulness and sound judgment cannot occupy the same mind at the same time, a Truthseeker could not conceivably hope to correct the behavior of a homosexual from a position of fear.  This makes the suggestion of a Truthseeker being homophobic, even if that were an actual word, a logical impossibility.

 

The irony here is that the correction that is inspired by God’s love, which drives out fear, is the very thing that the “=” community regards as being homophobic.

 

Because of this, some may ask, “What gives you the right to go around ‘correcting’ people anyway?”  Actually, it isn’t a right so much as it is an obligation:

 

 “Do not hate your brother in your heart.  Correct your neighbor boldly when he does something wrong.  Then you will not share his guilt.

“Do not try to get even.  Do not hold anything against one of your people.  Instead, love your neighbor as you love yourself.  I am the Lord. 

(Leviticus 19: 17-18 NIrV)

 

Notice that “Do not hate” is followed immediately with “Correct your neighbor boldly.”  Hatred and correction, then, are clearly opposites.

 

Therefore, it follows that the absence of correction where it is needed would indicate the presence of hatred.  It does not matter whether one actually FEELS hateful or not; it is the actions, or lack thereof, that make the difference.

 

For this reason, correcting the behavior a homosexual, or that of any other sinner, is an act of love based upon sound judgment, not of hate stemming from bigotry and judgmental criticism.

 

Nevertheless, there is still one more hurdle to overcome.  It is the nature of all humans, not just homosexuals, to reject correction.

 

Our pride makes us become defensive when our belief systems are challenged.  Frequently the first method of defense that we use is to deflect the correction back at the corrector, in essence sweeping our own faults under the rug while attempting to drag our neighbor’s faults out from under the same rug.

 

When Truthseekers are on the receiving end of this defense mechanism, they usually find it accompanied with another H-word.

 

(Which we will explore when this series is FINALLY concluded with Part 16–Hypocrisy)

 

Doubt: Part 3–Cloudy

 

Imagine you’re at a funeral on a cloudy day.  Then the sun comes out from behind a cloud.

 

Now if you are a scientific, buttoned-down, fact-based kind of a person, the first thing you would say is that the sun didn’t move–the cloud did.  You could give a meteorological explanation of prevailing winds, condensation, etc., and you would be factually correct in your explanation.  But you would be completely missing the point.

 

Now imagine at that same funeral on that same cloudy day, you are the grieving father standing over the grave of your first-born son.

 

You have never believed in God, though you have heard of him.  You have doubts about your child’s eternal destiny, because he hadn’t been baptized, and you don’t know what is real and what is bogus from a theological standpoint, because you have little intellectual knowledge of God.

 

All you know is that you turned your life upside-down to welcome this child into the world, and now he is gone, just as quickly as he came, and your world has been turned upside-down all over again.

 

Then, through the cloudy haze of your grief, you hear what the preacher is saying over your son’s grave.  You have never heard this minister before; you don’t go to his church, you have no idea what their Statements of Belief are.  But he is speaking words of peace and comfort, and even though you don’t understand what they all mean, they ring true.

 

As he finishes speaking, and says “Amen,” at that moment, the sun comes out from behind the cloud and a single sunbeam shines down on you, the child’s mother who is sobbing in your arms, the preacher, and the open grave.

 

And you feel warmth where there was only chill, and peace where there was only chaos—a peace that passes all understanding.  A peace that you have never felt before.  And your mind connects the dots for the first time.

 

And you know that God is real.

 

You are angry with him beyond measure for taking your child from you, but you can no longer deny His existence.

 

That was me on October 4, 1989.

 

The day of my son’s funeral was the day I buried my doubt.  I still wanted nothing to do with God, but I knew He was there.

 

It took five more years for God to break through my stubbornness and get me to listen to Him, and another eight for me to finally surrender my life to Him.  Fortunately, God is patient.

 

The point of this illustration is that on that cloudy day, at that funeral, I believed, and had peace.

 

Just like when I was three years old and my parents told the noise I heard was just the wind howling through the trees and not some phantom coming to yank me out of bed, throw me around like a dog with a chew toy, then drag me off to who knows where.

 

I was not able to see the wind, but my parents told me, and I believed.  Though I did not actually know, the belief was good enough to get me to sleep.

 

(How significant is the belief of a child?  Come back for Part 4–Faith)