Here’s a thought. Whenever a liberal offers a moral judgment of
a particular work of art, such as a sculpture of the Ten
Commandments on public grounds or Mel Gibson’s movie, and requests
that the government remove the first and enlightened people boycott
and defame the second, this question should pop to mind: What would
they do if it were the work of the late Robert Mapplethorpe, the
brilliant gay photographer whose provocative homoerotic work caused
such an uproar when it appeared in some public museums in the 1980s
and 1990s?
Let me illustrate what I mean. Suppose, for example, what
occupied the Alabama courthouse was not a sculpture of the Ten
Commandments but a Mapplethorpe photograph of a sculpture of the
Ten Commandments with tiny naked men in the corner doing the
Georgia crawl.
Or imagine if Mapplethorpe had choreographed dance scenes for a
movie by Mel Brooks, not Mel Gibson, “The Passion of Jesus, Bus
Depot Bar-Hopping Runaway,” a kind of contemporary comedic
interpretation of a Gay “Christ,” a self-loathing ex-Catholic
priest who left the church and holy orders as a result of being
“besieged” by “the Christian right.” This would, of course, be
broadcast on HBO and commended by critics for its “insight,”
“ingenious use of metaphor,” and “powerful, though humorous,
treatment of a controversial figure whose life is shrouded in
mystery.”
Its producer and writer would likely have received a sizable
grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. And those
condemning this film would be labeled by liberal pundits, the
New York Times editorial board, and NPR commentators as
intolerant, narrow-minded censors, and bigots who can’t see past
their religious prejudices and ingrained homophobia.
Gibson’s film has been described as too violent. Columnist
Andrew Sullivan has referred to it as “pornographic religion.”
Employing a little imagination and the rhetoric of liberal
“tolerance,” one can offer in retort that all-time favorite
rhetorical question that ends all inquiry and discussion for the
purpose of advancing openness, “Who are you to judge?”
Or we can say: “It’s an orthodox Christian thing, you wouldn’t
understand.” Or: “Because Jesus willingly gave his life, think of
the crucifixion as an act between consenting adults, and that can’t
be wrong, right?” Or: “Perhaps it will help to think of the
crucifixion as post-natal Roman abortion, or just ‘Pilate’s Choice’
or ‘prelate-assisted suicide.’” Or: “You’re not very sophisticated;
don’t you know that Gibson’s ‘Jesus’ is just a metaphor for
‘Matthew Shepherd.’” Or: “Stop being so judgmental; learn to
appreciate ‘differences,’ blah, blah, blah.”
Liberal tolerance is rarely applied in a principled fashion, for
it is often offered by those who have no serious interest in either
liberty, tolerance (rightly understood), or even a critical
assessment of their own views. Rather, they are interested in
advancing an orthodoxy, like any other, that has its own
understanding of what is good, true, and beautiful about which its
proponents have no time to think judiciously or consider that any
reasonable, decent person may sincerely disagree with it.
Francis
J. Beckwith is Associate Professor of Church-State Studies,
and Associate Director of the J. M. Dawson Institute of
Church-State Studies, Baylor University.
