"If Only You Would But Kneel"

No.80: October 29, 2021

Dear Friends,

So I guess that’s that. People tell me that my Twitter account is still visible. But I’ve been locked out of it by the open-minded, freethinking, tolerant folks who run the place, and from where I sit they intend to keep it that way forever. It is not a “Time Out.” It’s a permanent ban.

Oh, if they ever respond to my numerous emails requesting specific information on how I “violated” some alleged and non-existent “rule” (and it doesn’t seem they will), they will no doubt say, “Oh, no, Dr. Mattson; it isn’t permanent at all! You can have your account back instantly. Just click the little button to delete your offending Tweet and you can have it all back!” One of the most irritating things about this whole affair is just how cheery they are. Every communication ends with, “Thanks!” As in, “We’ve determined that you are a transphobic bigot and should be put up against a wall and shot. Thanks! —Twitter.” Jonah Goldberg (with a hat-tip to George Carlin) was right to call this “Smiley-Face Fascism.”

There’s a terrific scene in the film 300. King Leonidas, played by Gerard Butler in one of the all-too-rare movies where they let him keep his awesome Scottish brogue, is standing alone in the presence of a terrifying King Xerxes at the Straits of Thermopylae. Xerxes is giving him the sales pitch—I was going to type out the conversation, and then remembered that this is a digital medium. So, you can watch:

So many things to love in this masterpiece of a scene. All because of a simple misunderstanding. If only you would but kneel. A cramp in my leg—kneeling will be difficult. And, best of all: The world will know that few stood against many, that free men stood against a tyrant, and before this battle is over, that even a god-king can bleed.

Just kneel, Leonidas. Do the “logical” thing. What is the big deal? I am surely not so dense as to think something as trivial as losing a Twitter account remotely registers on the “pressure scale” in the grand scheme of things. It’s not annihilation; it’s not getting fed to lions in the Coliseum. I’m really not a drama queen.

And yet. There is the small matter that the same principle is in effect in all of these scenarios. That little blue button Twitter tells me to click and instantly restore everything I had before? It is accompanied by a small-print disclaimer: “By clicking this button you acknowledge that you violated the Twitter rules.” Well, I don’t acknowledge it. I want you to see their denial of my appeal:

See anything missing? Look at the third paragraph. “Specifically our rules around:” followed by exactly nothing. There is no rule. Trust me, I’ve read them. The rule is an unwritten one: you may not “misgender” a celebrated public figure—by which they mean you may not accurately gender him. This is all just a simple misunderstanding, Dr. Mattson. Just say we’re right, and you are wrong, and this will all go away. Thanks!—Twitter

And, of course, it begs the question: what if it was a real Twitter rule? Then what? Yeah, kneeling… that’s still going to be difficult.

Xerxes wanted submission. Later, Rome wanted allegiance, and they asked the Christians to just pinch a little incense in honor of the “god-king” who ruled the Empire. What’s the big deal? Don’t you want to go into this restaurant or public space? Don’t you want a job? Don’t you want access to the marketplace? A little incense! Such a small thing! What is wrong with you weirdos? Leonidas said it: Only a madman would refuse. That was, in fact, the ethos of the early centuries of the years Anno Domini. And the Christians refused precisely because they believed it was Anno Domini: in the “Year of Our Lord.” Jesus is Lord, not Caesar.

And now a new (old) orthodoxy of sexual anarchy is being enforced—no, they won’t make you engage in deviant sexual practices, but they will demand you celebrate it (and try their damndest to make sure your kids and grandkids engage in it). Yeah, my Twitter account isn’t really that big of a deal. It’s pretty easy for me to take a righteous stand. But you know what?

I think of all the people who have a lot more at stake. We’ve already witnessed some of them. Jack Phillips. Baronelle Stutzman. The bakers, florists, and photographers in the wedding industry. But isn’t just artists, and at least the artists have the slender legal defense of artistic freedom under the First Amendment. I think of government employees and the constant ratcheting up of pressure to celebrate Pride month every year. Just wear this rainbow pin to show solidarity with our co-workers! What’s the big deal? I think of all the “diversity training”—which is what they call the LGBTQ reeducation camps these days—millions of Christians are forced to attend in government and corporate America. I think of the vast numbers of Christian schoolteachers—what thousand little compromises are they faced with from this new orthodoxy?

That little “click on this box to repent and confirm your approval of the new orthodoxy” isn’t limited to Twitter. A friend said to me today, “If you don’t think reeducation camps are a thing, we are all already in ‘mini’ reeducation camps all the time.” That’s what the blue check box is. A mini-reeducation camp for Dr. Brian Mattson to confirm that he has seen the error of his ways. I’m not checking that box. Somewhat like Leonidas, I’ve got a nasty cramp in my index finger.

I might lose a Twitter account, but mark my words: people are going to lose jobs and livelihoods. Are you doing anything to prepare for that? Is your church doing anything to prepare for that?

I’m sorry. That was a ridiculously premature question. Let me try again: Does your church even believe in resisting the new sexual orthodoxy? Will they support you for resisting, or will they say, “Hey, man, it’s just a little incense. What’s the big deal? We don’t want to be divisive, you know. Positive and encouraging!” You’d better figure out the answer to that question. Fast. And then find a serious Christian community.

Where was I? Oh, yes. Do your deacons have a dedicated fund—and does it have money in it—to financially support church members who get fired for “creating a hostile work environment” by angering their LGBTQ colleagues by not showing up to their office-wide Pride party? Or fired for calling someone by their proper pronouns?

Yes, I’m pretty bummed about losing my Twitter account. It was supremely helpful to me. I have many, many friends in the broader Christian intellectual world that I only know and communicate with through Twitter. I could push my content to a modest but not insignificant 1,800 people (that’s a really big “congregation,” if you think of it that way). I curated a feed that gave me instant news from a variety of sources. I knew any time a great article got published on such-and-such website without having to go to the website to look to see if any great articles got published. That is the true value of the medium. And it’s gone. I’ll be honest, my information feed just got pretty dark.

But don’t take my “poor me” lament as if it is what I really care about. It’s a sign of worse things to come for people who have a lot more at stake.

Miscellany

• My Miscellany section gets populated by cool stuff I find during the week on Twitter. So it’s on hiatus until I find some other way of doing it.

• I did lose my “congregation” of around 1,800 people. Will you pass this newsletter along to your friends and encourage them to subscribe? I’d be grateful for that.

• I can still give you some cool YouTube content. Here’s a family bluegrass band called The Petersens. I wish I could have my girls around long enough to form a real band. Sigh.