One of the most common arguments for “clean fiction” — i.e., fiction that is not 
offensive, contains no morally objectionable elements, and is safe for the entire family — is that it doesn’t offend “weaker brothers.” That phrase, and the concept we import to this argument, is taken from several important sections of Scripture.
Jesus warned about putting “stumbling blocks” before the “little ones” (Luke 17:1-2 NASV) and the apostle Paul cautioned, in two different places
Be careful, however, that the exercise of your freedom does not become a stumbling block to the weak. (I Cor. 8:9 NIV)
and
Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother’s way. (Romans 14:13 NIV)
When discussing Christian fiction, the argument for keeping it clean, profanity free, graphically innocuous, and family friendly, often comes back to the “stumbling block” concept.
Sex, language, and violence potentially offends “weaker brothers and sisters.” Therefore, Christian literature should avoid such elements so as to not stumble brethren of another persuasion.
That argument, I assert, is skewed on two different counts — one theological and the other aesthetic.
First, the above Scriptures are not sufficient impetus to make “clean fiction” normative for all Christian literature.
In a fine essay entitled The Tyranny of the Weaker Brother, the author exegetes Romans 14 and concludes that the apostle Paul’s concern is to
“…protect Christian liberty in both directions, liberty to partake and liberty to abstain. This protects the stronger brother from the tyranny of the weaker, and as well diligently warns the stronger brother not to ignore the weakness of the weaker brother and draw him into behavior that is contrary to his conscience.”
Rather than “protect Christian liberty in both directions,” the Christian fiction industry appears to have caved to “the tyranny of the weaker brother.” For the moment we say “this will offend them” or “that will stumble them” and adjust our fiction accordingly, we normalize a specific cultural preference or moral sensibility. Christian liberty must exist in both directions, not just toward those who advocate “clean fiction.”
The second problem with “the stumbling block argument” and how it’s employed is that it potentially “incapacitates” creativity. The Christian artist who submits to “the tyranny of the weaker brother” is creatively hamstrung.
Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, once gave a lecture on Flannery O’Connor’s work
Some of her most pungent observations are to do with assumptions about ‘Catholic art’ which insist that such art should be edifying and moral; this, she argues, plays straight into the hands of critics of the Church who hold that dogmatic belief incapacitates a creative writer. (emphasis mine)
It’s safe to say that similar “assumptions” are embodied in today’s “Christian art” debate. An entire industry has formed around the notion that Christian art “should be edifying and moral.” But like O’Connor’s age, this camp “plays straight into the hands of critics of the Church who hold that dogmatic belief incapacitates a creative writer.” How can a Christian writer really explore the horror and angst and emptiness and transcendence of life while fearful of offending someone along the way?
Rather than restrict themselves to only what is “edifying and moral,” Williams contends the Christian artist
…is precisely someone who cannot rule out any subject matter. ‘The Catholic fiction writer is entirely free to observe. He feels no call to take on the duties of God or to create a new universe…He feels no need to apologise for the ways of God to man or to avoid looking at the ways of man to God’. This imposes on the Catholic writer a dangerous task, since she has to deal with matters that may indeed be ‘occasions of sin’, subjects that expose the worst in humanity. And while ‘to look at the worst will be for [the writer] no more than an act of trust in God’, it may be a source of danger for the reader.
Belief in God, rather than inhibit the writer, forces her to not look away, and makes her “entirely free to observe.” Thus, the Christian artist is “someone who cannot rule out any subject matter.” How contrary to today’s Inspirational market! Rather than crafting stories that may be “a source of danger for the reader” (as in potentially “offending the weaker brother”), we rule out subject matter and insist that “art should be edifying and moral.”
All on the grounds that we might “stumble” someone.
The “stumbling block argument” has been misused far too long in Christian writer’s circles. Of course, the more mature should, on occasion, defer to the weaker brother. I must be careful about my words and conduct in certain situations. However, Christian liberty should exist in both directions — liberty to partake and liberty to abstain. Yet when it comes to Christian fiction, sadly, liberty only extends one way.
I’m a Christian who doesn’t write Christian fiction thanks to the one-way liberty you described. Thank you for saying aloud what I’ve thought for years!
I agree. I think a new era in Christian Fiction is dawning. The digital age helps Christian writers reach readers not gravitating to the Inspirational Fiction section at B&N only to be smacked with layers of bonnet fiction. They will find us and we will find them and IMO offending the wrong crowd / agent / publisher will not kill a career. Thanks for the great post.
I have to say, this is my argument about “Christian” versions of anything (second only to the fact that the label itself is far too limiting, considering the vastness and depth of Christianity throughout history and across the world).
My own area of expertise is Christian Education, and I believe that rather than trying to remake popular culture according to some tepid “Christian” model, we ought to be thoughtfully training people to analyze popular culture through the lens of the Gospel. Sometimes, we will find it edifying and affirming. Sometimes we will reject it. Most often, there will be more than one way to understand it.
It could be argued that the “weaker brother” is not the one whose language is pure but the one who cusses; not the one whose taste doesn’t run to graphic descriptions of sex and violence but the one whose taste includes these things.
If, as Christians, we are supposed to be becoming more Christ-like, then perhaps this will be seen in our tastes too. There are lots of believers who have been “delivered” from hard rock music (I am an epic fail on that count) and plenty more who are constantly being told that they should be so delivered.
I’m not sure if this is actually what I think, or if it just a matter of trying to see the other side of teh debate.
Even if the weaker brother was the one who hadn’t grown up (still cussed, entertained “graphic descriptions of sex and violence”), it doesn’t change the principle that “Christian liberty should exist in both directions.” Both sides — those who prefer clean fiction or those who don’t — should exercise charity and freedom to their brothers.
I wasn’t arguing about the need for liberty to exist in both directions, merely suggesting that to always see the weaker brother as the one who abstains may not be a correct interpretation. If the stronger brother is the one who is more mature in the faith, then this places responsibility on him to not lead a weaker brother into temptation.
Just saying ….
*Christian liberty must exist in both directions, not just toward those who advocate “clean fiction.”*
Agreed! A too-clean, unrealistic read can be just as much of a stumbling block because a reader may not be able to connect to it. They read the squeaky, edifying fiction and think, “I can never be this person. I can never be good enough for God. Why try?”
I’ve described my personal relationship with God as “dark and subtle” and thus I prefer my reading and writing to be such. It is where I connect with Him. If I didn’t have books like that as an option I would feel discouraged, and turn to purely secular books because I cannot connect to the characters and plots of most mainstream Christian novels.
Kinda agree with Kat here. I prefer the christian protagonist to be flawed and failed- but in the end their faith carries them through. Please don’t over santitize the story to meet a marketing demographic. The horrible truth of this world should most certainly be present in Christian fiction.
I think maybe it’s an overall problem that writers of faith-based stories have.
I’ve been reading you (and by extension, your commentors) for a good while now. It seems to me that those who write CF are far more concerned than other types of writers with what their audience thinks and wants. When I’m on other types of writing sites or at writers’ groups the talk is overwhelmingly about things like Finding the Time To Write, How To Write Good Dialog; Telling Not Showing and other technical or disciplinary concerns.
But with Christian Fiction writers it seems to overwhelmingly be about what the audience will put up with. How far can I push the borders of swearing or lovemaking or versimillitude without offending people and should that be okay.
“…those who write CF are far more concerned than other types of writers with what their audience thinks and wants.”
Some might disagree, claiming that all writers are concerned with their audience. But if your observation is accurate, that “with Christian Fiction writers it seems to overwhelmingly be about what the audience will put up with,” it really reinforces the idea of “tyranny,” doesn’t it? A sort of literary Sharia.
Not necessarily; I think a lot of the pressure is something that CF writers place upon themselves. Whether it’s to get their work published in a narrow segment of the marketplace or to have their work serve as missional material, CF writers make a bit of a bargain. They are writing a specific type of fiction with a specific type of designed outcome–moreso than in other cases, from what I’ve gathered.
I don’t care for legalistic religion; I find it intrudes on my Christianity. So I don’t write for that market.
I wholeheartedly agree Mike. I know literally hundreds of twenty-something solid Christians, and I would bet my left pinky finger that less than 5% of them have bought a Christian fiction book in the past year for this very reason. Especially in light of the fact that a lot of us grew up in churches where everything was clean and tidy & everyone hid their sin and junk because church is not where you deal with those things…and then we saw lives & families continually fall apart & realized that all the pretending didn’t work. So I think there are scores of Christians who are screaming for our art to reflect the grit and mess of real life, because hope and redemption doesn’t resonate unless it’s there. And I think it won’t be long until more of that is written & even new Christian publishing ventures start up that are not aimed at Christian bookstores. Because out of those hundreds of solid young believers I know, I bet less than 2% of them have stepped foot in a Christian bookstore in the last year. I even forget they still exist sometimes.
Thanks for sharing these thoughts. I for one think they need to be said.
I agree with the basic principle here, but have some concerns about the two arguments you are using, even if I don’t disagree with them 100%
On the liberty going both ways, yes. But, Paul did say, “…therefore, I will not eat meat.” IOW, he did totally give up on his liberty in order to not offend the weaker brother, and was encouraging the stronger to do the same. So I’m not so sure the conclusion reached is on solid theological footing. Sounds a bit taken out of context, but I’ve not read the specific book, and it may deal with that in more detail than you can in a post.
But those admonitions don’t apply to writing fiction for the following reason. The context St. Paul gives that in is personal. I’m at a table, about to stuff some meat in my mouth. My brother sitting next to me says, “Pssst. That meat was offered up to idols.” So I’m sitting there with my fork (or in those days, bread) hanging inches from my mouth, and I have a decision to make. Whereas I would normally eat that, I refuse to eat it for the sake of my brother next to me.
The equivalent to that isn’t to then condemn the host for serving us meat offered to idols, but to simply not eat. Paul never draws that conclusion.
Writing a book with objectionable stuff is not what those verses apply to. The person perusing the isle at a bookstore might pick up your book and decide it looks like a good read. Then the person next to them might say (and I don’t know what’s in there, just an example) “Did you know there are explicit sex scenes in there?” Then I might put the book back in deference to the brother. But there is no equivalent to saying the book should have never been written because of it. The verses don’t apply to writing a book anymore than they apply to whether the host should have served meat offered to an idol. The person responsible for whether they partake of it or not is the issue.
And St. Paul also concludes not to use our liberty in a destructive way. All things are permissible, but not all things are beneficial. But again, we are looking at what we partake of, not whether the source itself is wrong to have offered it, since he states that some things are okay for some but not for others.
On the second thing, I think the point addresses the wrong things. I don’t think it is whether Christian fiction should be “edifying and moral.” The real issue is whether the seedy side of life should be shown, the immoral side of life in all its depravity. You can do that and still have it be edifying and moral. The edification and morality comes in where the story goes with it, and the morality comes in what the story ends up supporting.
IOW, I could write about a guy who sinks into the depths of sin to make the Prodigal Son blush. And in the in, he dies alone and miserable, and sees a vision of the gates of Hell. Pretty depressing as far as the story goes. Pretty immoral as to what happens. Very sad and dark. But it would clearly show it didn’t have to be like this and he could have ended up better (edifying) and that his immoral lifestyle destroyed him (pointing to morality).
I think in the end, Christian Fiction should have an element of hope, of edification, have a moral basis upon which the story flows. But, that doesn’t mean the content has to be pretty, free of sin, and conflicts restricted to whether the man will kiss her before the book is over. As a matter of fact, my sense of things is the darker the story, the more bright the light it can point to, and when that hope does rear its head.
So I would say the target of this restriction on creativity isn’t the intentional edification and hope a story would give, since that is God’s story. We shouldn’t be targeting morality, since I don’t think we are saying we want to glorify immorality, which is what it sounds like that statement is saying, at least to me. Rather, we are targeting the artificial restrictions upon the content that make the stories irrelevant to a segment of the audience because the market has confused the journey with the end goal.
So I don’t think confusing the goal with the journey is a good approach either, choosing one over the other. You can have dark and realistic sin without giving up on edification, morality, and hope. We’re about redeeming those things, not highlighting them.
Good article and good points.
Rick, you say, “The person responsible for whether they partake of it or not is the issue.”
I am tempted to say sarcastically, “So, what, you actually expect people to be responsible for their own reading choices?”
What I’m going to say is, “Brilliant.” That is it in a nutshell. It is not up to the reader to determine what a writer is or isn’t allowed to write–it is up to the reader to determine *only* what they decide to read.
Aha. But the problem here is unspoken disdain for the publishers who are the gatekeepers of the market and DO determine, after a fashion, what the writers write.
I think that may be the subtext of Mike’s post–at least that’s how I read it.
Yes, I guess that’s the outcome if you are wanting to sell to a specific publisher/market. If you want to get on Christian bookstore shelves.
But the post was arguments some writers and readers would put forth for why they don’t want X in their Christian books. So I was just approaching it from that angle. If the CBA ever adjusts, it will be because the market adjusts, the readers. The only reason the CBA publishers restrict that is because they perceive they will lose money if that type of stuff is in there. And they are probably right. They are locked into that type of fiction, and can only stay financially afloat by slowing changing the market, and with it.
An excellent and thought-provoking post, with interesting comments. I must say, I’ve been reading Christian Fiction for close to 20 years, and I’ve never heard the ‘weaker brother’ argument before. I read CF because I like the stories (mostly) and because I like reading fiction that reflects my own world view (as do many people, whether that is pro-Christian, pro-homosexual or pro-Republican).
I do know that at times, God has challenged me not to read ‘regular’ fiction (perhaps when I was the ‘weaker’ sister), but now it doesn’t seem to be an issue. I am relatively widely-read across modern and classic fiction, and now tend to reach for whatever genre suits my mood.
R. L Copple comments that “the real issue is whether the seedy side of life should be shown, the immoral side of life in all its depravity. You can do that and still have it be edifying and moral. ”
Absolutely. Nicely put. And while sometimes I want to read this kind of gritty Christian Fiction, other times I just want the literary equivalent of chocolate. Sweet, predictable, perhaps a little bland, perhaps with a little suprise in the middle. If I want to read about murder, rape or domestic violence, I have a perfectly good daily newspaper.
Copple also notes “Christian Fiction should have an element of hope, of edification, have a moral basis upon which the story flows”.
Again, absolutely. The element of hope is why I chose to read Christian Fiction. So much secular fiction ignores that hope, and leaves me feeling depressed. I read for entertainment, not to want to slit my wrists when I’m done (don’t worry, I’m not suicidal!). But I have to say that some of the most memorable books are those that skate the edge of ‘traditional’ CF, as their characters are often more realistic. Sometimes these books come from Christian publishers, but not always.
I am inclined to believe both sides of the argument here, although my own work of fiction will be far from “Bonnet fiction”9I like Amish stories by the way depending on my mood).
First, I do not believe that what I write will offend anyway as what they purchase is their own choice and if they feel offended…at what exactly? Many Christians are probably swearing and doing God knows what more than me or any secular writer out there- I think its the Pharasiacal Spirit in them.
Secondly, I do however see why Paul said what he said, but only from a more personal-focused point. Books are material freely written and selected by a person’s own will and choice.
I can’t let arguments and emotions staunch my muse. I can’t.
And I still love Jesus 🙂
Erica
“Professional Weaker Brethren” — the Christianese version of “The Tyranny of the Most Easily Offended”.
From a writer’s perspective, people are such a diverse group, if you worry about offending anyone, your story will lose its impact. Everyone’s idea of what offends them is different. For example, some people have so isolated themselves from the world that the mere mention of sex makes them uncomfortable. Though I wonder if they have ever read the Song of Solomon. And no, I don’t buy the “Sunday school version” that makes it into some sort of analogy. This doesn’t mean Christian writers should be explicit or obscene, but sometimes it seems the “offensiveness level” can be an artificial construct varying by person or promoted by the industry (or certain parts of it).
As far as I’m concerned, this nails it, DD.
Fiction
Since when Christian Fiction has become more popular then the truth, does the truth heart or offend our mind. Have we gone astray that whatever is said and done can be an insult to Christ are we to say that reducing his word without any feeling by telling Him its fiction; those who lough today might cry tomorrow as a believer when I stand for judgment I know that at least I respected his word and did my best I knew how.
Albert.
Fiction book.
I do not mind reading fiction as long it doesn’t upset me the imagination of some Arthurs can be joyful as long it’s full of tranquillity.
Albert.