As a child of the 1970s, I was, of course, a huge Star Wars fan. I remember going with my brothers and their friends to see it for the first time in 1977 at the Northwest Plaza Cinema in Saint Ann, Missouri. I was six years old. My brother’s friend, Greg, tried to scare me before the movie by saying Darth Vader would eat me. I didn’t scare that easily.
After seeing the movie, I became, as my older brother often said, “a Star Wars freak.” I collected all the Star Wars toys I could. When I wasn’t buying baseball cards, I bought packs of Star Wars cards. At recess, I acted out scenes from the movie with my school friends. This unlikely sci-fi space opera captured my imagination and literally changed my six-year-old life.
My nascent Star Wars fandom was not without its complications, however, mostly because it was (apparently) against my religion. The pastor of our conservative Christian church was vocally opposed to Hollywood movies and loudly decried Christians going to movie theaters.
Honestly, that didn’t scare me either. Even as a six-year-old, I instinctively knew what my assigned pastor apparently didn’t—that watching a gigantic movie screen, as Mark Hamill pretended to pilot a tiny X-Wing against the mighty Death Star, wouldn’t condemn me to hell.
What did terrify me, though, was imagining how people at my church would react if they knew that I had not only seen the Death Star explode with my own eyes, but that I had also used my toys and imagination to recreate the scene dozens, if not hundreds, of times. I just knew they would judge me and consider me a sinner. So, I resolved to never tell anyone at church the scandalous news that I was a fan of the most successful Hollywood movie of all time.
When my best friend from church came over, I would carefully hide my Star Wars memorabilia way under my bed, so as not to out myself. I didn’t know whether my friend had also defied pastor’s orders, but it seemed very unlikely and too risky to ask. Best to hide that part of myself, I thought. My friend’s visits, which should have been pure fun and enjoyment, brought first anxiety and then relief when he finally left without discovering my secret.
I share this episode from my life because it is the earliest religion-based fear that I can recall. And that fear caused me to hide myself—not from God, like the Bible’s Adam and Eve, but from the judgment of other Christians. I certainly couldn’t have articulated it at the time, but I was afraid of losing Christian community. And the fear of being cast out and alone is a powerful one.
This fear, engrained in me at an early age, is one that I’ve battled throughout most of my life. Each time I stood before a congregation to deliver a message, posted something on social media, published something I’d written, or just gathered in Christian community, I ran my words and actions through the filter of what is deemed acceptable in Christian community. In other words, I wrestled with the fear that sharing my true self would cost me the community I value.
I wish the moral of my story was that the fear of losing Christian community is unfounded. Sadly, that has not been my observation. I mean, I think Star Wars is more widely accepted now. But, if you want to learn something about the boundaries of your Christian community, try insisting that Christians listen more and scold less on political issues like abortion and LGBTQ rights. I am grateful for those who stick with you, even though they still see things differently.
While the fear of losing Christian community is a powerful one, I can tell you it is possible to overcome that fear. In fact, the pathway to spiritual maturity requires it. We must not make an idol of a particular church or ideology, or our spiritual progress will almost certainly be stunted. We must be willing to let go of the comfortable to make way for growth.
Or to put it another way, we must be willing to lose our life to save it.
Continue to The Reality of Religious Manipulation (Faith over Fear pt 3)
Return to Faith over Fear (series beginning)
Often we seem to forget why we were created in the first place. – to live in a daily intimate relationship with God. When this is happening I find that the fear part pretty much goes away and the desire to be gracious and accepting of differences skyrockets. Thanks for the Star Wars memory. I am proud to see how you are investing your life and look forward to reconnecting with you at the great reunion.