Wandering

I’ve never had thick skin. My “skin” is permeable, and what comes in is not easily taken out. Sending out 1500 questionnaires with your name on each one is not something I recommend for the thin-skinned. The hot topic of “religion and politics” didn’t help matters, nor did the association with Georgetown University for an audience of political conservatives who apparently aren’t college basketball fans.

Subjects were randomly selected from a list of donors to political action committees affiliated with the Christian Right social movement. The names and addresses are publicly available thanks to the FEC, though a number of respondents didn’t believe me.  The purpose of the survey was to examine the attitudes evangelical Protestants and Catholics have towards one another, their political positions and religious teachings. With the data I hope to be able to address (in my dissertation) whether or not evangelical Protestants are politically different as a result of working with Catholics on the “pro-family” agenda, and vice versa. The survey included questions dealing with religious beliefs and practices, attitudes concerning political issues such as abortion, immigration, the death penalty, and then general questions dealing with exposure to and favorability towards groups. In the cover letter accompanying the survey, I identified myself as a graduate student interested in the beliefs of pro-family citizens. I assured them their answers would be confidential. A self-addressed stamped envelope was sent with the survey, and subjects were instructed to return the survey blank if they wished to be taken off my mailing list. See survey here: robinson-survey.pdf

Fortunately, many respondents were not able to determine exactly what I was studying and were able to approch the questions without “evangelical-Catholic interaction” on the brain. Unfortunately, many instead thought I was out to make conservative Christians crazy people…which some confirmed that they are in fact are crazy people.

 Here are some snippets from the more than 30 pieces of “I-hate-your-survey-mail” I’ve received in the past 8 weeks (along with a shredded survey in 2 cases):

“Dear Ms. Robinson, I feel that as a student you should understand that not all of us who are pro-life are stupid, angry people who won’t allow others to have opinions nor have we checked our brain at the door before entering our respective houses of worship. …”

“Dear Ms. Robinson, As I read the questions, I sense that you want to make pro-family Christian look like small minded bigots who only associate with one another….I am in no way small minded. I am an intelligent woman who graduated from college with honors….”

“Nice try, but you couldn’t have gotten my name from the FEC. So, let’s start again. Where did you get my name from and why are you sending out this survey? There is something fishy about this so I’m issuing a warning on key websites so that people are aware that you are pulling some kind of scam.”

On a post-it note: “I can’t answer questions about your things of the world and government. My answers are in the Bible and I feel they are very sure.”

Another one on a post-it note: “Talk about invasion of privacy!!! Gov’t get out of my face!”

Though I did not transcribe all the phone calls I received (a total of 41), many put me on the brink of tears. Even after learning that I was in fact a Christian conservative, these pro-family citizens did not feel my questions were respectful, accurate or worthwhile. If I was a Christian (and for many, the IF was a big one), then I must not really understand the Christian faith. If I was a political conservative, then I must not really understand why abortion is so horrible – if I did, I would have worded the question differently. (I used the same question that almost every national polling firm uses and has used since the 1970s.)

Other phone callers were more friendly, yet still thought I needed to be enlightened. One man informed me that the reason why we have three branches of government is because God is three in one – Father, Son, Holy Ghost. This somehow inspired our founders to create the executive, legislative, judicial division in the US. He went on to explain why there were 13 colonies at first — Jesus + 12 disciples=13. Another man called to make sure I knew the Catholic Church was the “whore of Babylon.” Ugh.

And to be fair, a few people called with sincere, unqualified words of encouragement. One woman, saddened by the massacre at Virginia Tech, called to pray for me over the phone. Another woman called to tell me she was a pro-life feminist (in her 70s) and wanted to encourage me in my education. One man said the survey was “fun” and was just curious about who I was and what my research was specifically about.

Perhaps the most unexpected feedback came in the form of pamplets, tracts and books from respondents concerned about my soul. To their credit, many completed the survey in addition to paying extra postage to sneak in a few more ounces of soul-saving work. Boy, did it work:)

To view a sampling of their soul-saving efforts, I include a link to my stockpile here. I also include pictures of the survey-construction site a.k.a our living room. In the end, all the battle wounds paid off: response rate of 55% baby.

Hard to say how life is different. My memories remain. We played Taboo, drank Alaskan beer, and laughed just like all the other family get-togethers we’ve ever had. His body wasn’t there. The big brown leather chair was empty. There were three new babies, a few new husbands, and no dogs this time. I thought things might feel forced. Conversation, rhythm, activity. We mourned Grandpa, but we moved forward and embraced the life he worked so hard to create for us. The funeral was better than I expected. If you worked to put the pieces together, the gospel was preached in between bits about how “perfect” Heaven is. Funny how the most obvious feature of Heaven – God’s presence – is rarely mentioned as its most appealing feature. The children and grandchildren spoke. We all kept it under a minute. I choked up at parts. Dad and Kyle’s mostly. I read a bit from II Corinthians about our earthly tent and heavenly calling. The most touching moment came when the Honor Guard presented Grandma with the American flag. We’ll probably get to see something like that again at the service at Arlington in September.

There was a bounce after the funeral. I think we all felt it. We had been released to begin life without Grandpa in the flesh. It won’t be hard. As Dad said, Grandpa prepared him (my dad) to handle his (Grandpa’s) death. A death at 90 is very different from the loss of a husband in your 30s or a father when you are 15. Yet what it signifies is just as significant - life beyond the grave.

So we all press on. Heavy conversations that resurrect old wounds, rough encounters that create new ones. Sweet moments of silence that suspend the pain, and words so kind that bring healing. Within 48 hours, we had felt them all.

May 18, 2007

My grandfather died. One week ago today, I was with him at Flagler Pines Nursing Home in Florida. We had BLTs for lunch at the house, in between visiting him. It was smoky outside because of the fires, so we didn’t walk him outside. The siblings took turns wheeling him around the hallways. I sat with him near the birdcage. The baby slept mostly. The whole visit was rich. Rich with feeling, with meaning and significance. Sara and I singing patriotic songs around the low-income housing. This Land, Our Country Tis, Oh Say Can You See. Great Is Thy Faithfulness and How Great Thou Art. We would point to the trees. We would lift his foot from the ground after it slipped off the platform of his wheelchair. We rubbed his hand, his hair. Kyle was distant – quiet at times – yet present and sensitive to every move by Grandpa. He listened and observed. Sara poured her soul into him. She blessed him. In those final moments with him, she curled up beside him and thanked him. Kyle wept – his face contorted by tears and imprisoned to the feeling. We prayed the Lord’s Prayer. We left. Grandpa was fighting to get up. He wasn’t settled. He didn’t appear settled in those last few days. He wanted to leave.

My first encounter with him on Thursday involved truth-telling. He was put in his wheelchair, and he looked to Grandma and said, “I wish I were dead so I wouldn’t be a bother to anyone.” Grandma assured him he was not a bother. I wheeled him to the praise time in the cafeteria. I cried. I cried. He was thin. His face vacant. They distributed instruments. Grandpa gave the thumbs up, directed to me – they gave me a rattle-type toy. We sang When the Saints Go Marching In. The residents were ugly. It was difficult to span the room, but I kept doing that. Grandpa said hallelujah a couple of times. He said picture. He looked engaged. I kept asking him how he was doing. I kept telling him it was nice to be with him. They welcomed me and asked me if I wanted to say anything – I said “no” with a slight cry. Grandma found us roaming the halls later. Sara, Kyle and
Adelaide were with her. We showed him the baby. He said “what a cutie.” We said “She’s a Larson.”

At the beginning of the week, I resented the schedule. By the end, I rejoiced in it.