My friendships with several hyper-feminists were among the casualties of my conversion.
Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut. But I figured that a friend doesn’t let a friend live without hope; a friend shares the gospel with the people she cares about.
Trouble was, with these women, I ended up having to explain why being a Christian meant abandoning feminism.
“Well, it’s like this," I said to each one in separate conversations. "As a feminist, I was concerned exclusively with myself. ‘I want,’ ‘I need,’ ‘I have a right’—that’s pretty much all I thought about. Whereas Christianity teaches me to say, 'What can I do for you?'"
Two out of three of these friends greeted this pronouncement with a good roll of the eyes.
“The way I practiced it, feminism was all about me,” I said, “not about what is objectively true. It was about self-knowledge and self-righteousness and self-glorification.”
All three responded to this with a sigh of disgust.
Surliness emboldens me. “Feminism is by definition competitive,” I continued. “There are winners and losers and since I intend to win, you’d better get out of my way. Whereas faith is all about God and his perfect holiness, love, mercy, justice, and power. And there’s no contest; compared to Him, we’re all slugs, and if there were a race to righteousness, none of us would get much past the starting blocks.”
Amazing: In three isolated conversations, each of my soon-tobe-ex-friends glanced at her watch the moment I said “righteousness.”
“Feminism says the only absolute truth is that women are equal or superior to men,” I added, speaking quickly because time was obviously running out. “Faith says there are many absolute truths, with the common denominator being the Lordship of Jesus Christ.”
At this point, each one stood up, apparently having heard enough.
But I wasn’t quite done. “Feminism says she who dies with the most toys or money or power or lovers wins. Faith says she who dies in Christ wins the only prize worth having—the kingdom of heaven.”
If I were looking for a way to dump a friend, this would be ideal. Because none of these women has time for me anymore.
Which is a relief, in a way. It’s no fun being around someone who has an obvious distaste for everything you stand for. And I’m sure they feel the same way about me.
(Heaven Without Her, pages 232-234)