Crazy for God: How I Grew Up as One of the Elect, Helped Found the Religious Right, and Lived to Take All (or Almost All) of It Back
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With honesty, empathy, and humor, Schaeffer delivers “a brave and important book” (Andre Dubus III, author of House of Sand and Fog)—both a fascinating insider’s look at the American evangelical movement and a deeply affecting personal odyssey of faith.
right-wing enterprise, the platitudes married to pop culture, all of it . . . that made me crazy. It was just too stupid for words. The Greek Orthodox Church is the least-changed continuous body of Christian worship and tradition. So what? The average pebble in my driveway predates human existence by a hundred million years or so. On the other hand, if you want to try to live as a Christian, maybe it makes sense to attach yourself to a body of faith that bears at least a passing resemblance to
She didn’t think he had what it took to do anything.” Given the fact of my family connections to the Republican Party, it was somewhat ironic that when James Webb was elected to the Senate from Virginia by a razor-thin margin in 2006, giving the Democrats their first new majority in years, I was credited with helping Webb. Or, to put it another way, judging by the hate e-mail I got from my father’s fundamentalist followers and other assorted Republicans and conservatives, I deserved some of the
were the English martyrs killed by the Roman Catholics and described so glowingly in Fox’s Book of Martyrs, wherein there were grim and wonderfully descriptive accounts of our Protestant saints’ excruciating deaths, as Protestants went willingly, even joyfully, to the stake and were burnt to a crisp because they would not bow to the pope. Latimer was the best. As the flames licked off his skin, he declared himself to be “a candle lit that will never be put out in England!” And I would get to
intercourse or was “just fooling around.” I wasn’t embarrassed to tell her the truth. I knew that no matter what she thought of my actions, Debby wouldn’t tell on me. I also had always known that she loved me, and that she was on my side come hell or high water, a certain knowledge that persisted through life, even when Debby, some years later, was upset after my novel Portofino was published. I knew it was temporary and that we would soon be friends again. 37 Time stumps me. When I begin a
callousness of pro-choice supporters. For instance, in an article in the Village Voice, “Abortion Chic—The Attraction of Wanted-Unwanted Pregnancies” (February 4, 1981), Leslie Savan, a self-described pro-choice advocate, discussed how abortion had become “subliminally chic.” She quoted women who deliberately became pregnant, without any intention of carrying their babies to term. Some of the reasons Savan listed that the women had given her for getting pregnant, then aborting, were: “A desire to