The Beliefs We Hide...
The line between stated beliefs and actions isn’t always clear-cut. For better or worse, we humans are complicated and we don’t always act in ways that align with our stated beliefs. But, I would not go so far as to say that beliefs are less important than actions. In fact, I argue that our beliefs, especially our unstated beliefs, the beliefs that we hold tightly within ourselves and don’t necessarily acknowledge, even to ourselves, have a direct impact on how we view the world and how we treat others.
For instance, more often than not, during my time in academia, most of the people I interacted with would believe the “right” things about racial justice. Particularly in my last graduate program, most of the professors and students would claim that of course they want more diversity in academia, of course, they want to support Black and brown students. They talked with pride about their women faculty members and their accomplishments and claimed they wanted to support the inclusion of more women in PhD programs.
These were all their stated beliefs. But their actions directly contradicted their stated beliefs. Black and brown students were bullied by other students and faculty for speaking about the racism they experienced in academia. But even Black and brown students who were silent, who did not rock the boat, were not immune to the racism and bullying. The underlying belief in that department, a belief that was unsaid and that directly contradicted what they claimed to value, was that Black and brown students only mattered based on their proximity to whiteness and their ability to embrace the status quo of the department.
Women were supported...until they decided to get pregnant and raise a family. A peer told me that when she was pregnant, professors, including other professors who were women, would make comments regarding whether or not the pregnant student was fit to continue their academic work. And the accommodation available for pregnant students was very little and what accommodations were offered, were done so begrudgingly.
I remember vividly, the faculty recoiling in horror at the thought of providing low-cost childcare for graduate students. Not only was the department content to provide poverty wages to their graduate students, which made it difficult for those who were not financially wealthy to complete their program, but the department rejected any attempts to ease the burden on their students and to provide them with tangible support so they could complete their degree.
The department claimed to believe all the “right” things when it comes to diversity, women in academia, etc but their actions pointed to deeper beliefs that Black and brown students were only worthwhile the closer their proximity to whiteness, and that women who dared have children during graduate school, were viewed as incompetent.
What we say we believe matters. But even more important, are the beliefs we leave unstated but which are revealed by our actions. These beliefs are not necessarily intentional. I do not believe the faculty in my old graduate department decided to get together and say, “How can we make life more difficult and unbearable for marginalized groups.” And I am sure, if you asked most of them directly, “Are you racist or sexist?” They would take offense. And loudly protest. But their actions would tell a different story about their deeply held beliefs.
So many of us as Christians have been taught the importance of saying and believing the “right” thing. For those of us who grew up in Evangelical circles, verbally affirming the “right” beliefs was a matter of salvation. Depending on the denomination or congregation, there is often a long list of statements that one needs to assent to. Some of these beliefs were harmful and problematic: homophobia, transphobia, the rigid gender roles. And yet even there, there were moments where one’s deepest beliefs came to the foreground.
For example, take my childhood Pentecostal congregation. They believed all the standard fundamentalist beliefs, with of course a Pentecostal flavor. One of the beliefs was the idea that men were to be the heads of their households. That was preached about frequently. Yet in practice, the pastor’s wife was a pretty formidable woman. While men were to be leaders in the household, in the church, women were the backbone. They were the majority of attendees and they participated in every single role from preaching, to teaching, to cooking, etc. In fact, the pastor’s wife also served as a co-pastor both in practice and in title. And while I can’t speak to their private lives, what I did see, appeared to be more a marriage of equality and partnership.
Of course, the stated beliefs still had a negative impact and expressed itself in rigid gender roles: women had to wear long skirts and long hair. Women were to be submissive and humble. And of course purity culture was in full effect. Imagine how much liberation could have occurred, if instead of holding on to the “proper” fundamentalist Christian beliefs, they fully and publicly embraced what they were partially putting into practice: women in leadership, women as equals?
In this week’s lectionary reading, Simon Peter says the “right” thing. He affirms Jesus as the Messiah. And of course, we know Peter’s story is one of massive ups and downs. Where he says one thing with his mouth, then contradicts that with his actions. Where he affirms Jesus as the Messiah in one chapter and then in the next his lack of faith shows through or he denies Jesus to others. And yet, Peter’s story is not one of condemnation. At least, that’s not how I read it. Instead of being a cautionary tale, what if we used Peter’s story to inspire us to ask ourselves tough questions, not to berate ourselves for not being perfect, but so that we can truly live out the gospel?
In many ways it’s easy to have a set list of beliefs we can affirm. To be sure, this is not just an Evangelical Christian tendency. But even Progressive Christians have their own list of acceptable political and theological beliefs. And to be clear, it’s not “wrong” to have such beliefs. I for one am glad for spaces and congregations who affirm that Black and brown lives matter and who assert the humanity of queer people. But what I am saying is that we need to interrogate our beliefs and be honest about the ways in which our stated and unstated beliefs are in conflict. And how our actions will more often than not reflect the beliefs we don’t necessarily voice out loud.
And of course, our faith means that even if we reflect and find that our deepest beliefs don’t quite align with what we say we value, there is no need to be ashamed. But rather we can have the confidence to explore our deepest beliefs, confront them head-on, and make any changes necessary.
Image: car driving, city in the rearview. Text: Our unstated beliefs, the beliefs that we hold tightly within ourselves and don’t necessarily acknowledge, even to ourselves, have a direct impact on how we view the world and how we treat others.