Unexpected

I’ve struggled with prejudices most of my life. One of them is the conviction that a certain kind of humor is unworthy of my time and an affront to my high standards of interaction with people. So, when my girlfriend urged me to watch a sitcom she had recently discovered, I was more than skeptical. But because I know her to be a woman with deep feelings, with morals and compassion and meaningful relationships, I gave it a try. To my defense, let’s just say, the title didn’t help…

Who watches a show with the unfortunate name “Schitt’s Creek” when at the same time rereading The Brothers Karamazow? But I trust her, so I watched through the first three seasons of (to my ears) sometimes questionable humor and storyline. But then something happened.

At the end of season 3, a love story unfolds like I have never seen one on screen. Over the next two seasons, this story captivated me to such extent that I can only compare it to when I fell in love with my husband. I was spellbound. I laughed and cried with the characters, I re-watched parts of some episodes over and over and in general felt like a teenager having a major crush, inviting my girlfriend over for repetitions of the laughing and crying and feeling like our lives had been majorly touched.

This would all be cute and funny (after all, why shouldn’t 43-year-olds have some teenage moments every once in a while?), if it wasn’t for a small detail. The love story that has touched us so profoundly and gripped our hearts is the story of a gay couple.

For reasons unknown, I have had a sweet spot in my heart for the gay community for as long as I can remember. In fact, it was part of my conversion story. When I first felt this tug on my heart to follow Christ, my one objection was that I could not start seeing gay people as being wrong or evil – an assumption I had unfortunately thought to be a prerequisite for being a follower of Christ. To my luck, a friend at that time helped me see that one does not have to make a choice between loving the gay community and loving Christ.

So, this show portraying a gay love story certainly wasn’t a problem for me. However, the fact that I as a straight woman would be more touched by a love story between two men than any straight love story ever on a screen, was something to consider.

Before I continue, let me assure you this is not going to be a political post on affirming gay rights. I believe too little in politics to want to focus on that, even though I understand the importance of this position and commend those whose passion is to bring attention to this topic. I also don’t have a clear theological position, because I’m not a theologian, and giving you my opinions on this Scripture and that interpretation will only lead to one more in a sea already crowded with opinions from people far wiser than me. I will spare you.

But what the last seven years of my spiritual journey have taught me more than anything is the need to listen to the place in me where my heart, my conscience, and my (hopefully growing) compassion live. As I watched this love story unfold, I noticed some things. First, the story was all about vulnerability and authenticity. When most average Hollywood stories talk about “conquering” a love interest and navigating things like betrayal and jealousy and pretense, this story was one of such purity, joy and goodness, it got social media talking about the greatest love story ever told. But what sets this story aside from all the others?

Without telling too much for the reader who has not been scared away from watching the show by my earlier comments, the outline is as follows: David is an insecure, selfish, deeply hurt young man whose family loses their fortune and is forced to relocate to a small town. There he meets funny, gentle Patrick, who becomes his business partner. Their friendship eventually grows into a tender, budding love. For Patrick, who has not come out yet, it is all new – he experiences his first actual falling in love, and we get to see it in affectionate detail (this might be the most beautiful aspect of the story and its biggest treasure: to experience the magical moments of a first true love that is expressed with overwhelming honesty and vulnerability). On the other side there is David, a veteran in all things dating and getting hurt in the process. His guard is up, he responds with jokes and he won’t commit. Yet Patrick only loves. He sees who David can be, beyond the walls and the pain. He offers himself, he takes risks, and he is ok that David cannot respond the same way yet.

Patrick reminds me of how Jesus loves me – so much so that after one particular episode I had to go on a walk to have a conversation with God about how amazingly His unconditional love has found ways past the walls of my heart over and over again. I believe it is because unconditional love is the one thing against which our hearts have no defense. God loves us because He is love, not because, or so that, we love Him back. When He loves, He is just being Himself. And His love fully sees us in the insecure, prideful, selfish mess that is our lives. Yet He doesn’t love us despite our flaws, but because, and in the midst of, our beautiful, messy brokenness. This is breathtakingly expressed in Patrick’s love for David (although I’m not insinuating that the creator of the show intended the comparison). Patrick risks being vulnerable, because this is the only thing that will break through the walls around David’s heart. And he wins everything in the process.

Vulnerability, if it comes from a position of strength and security, is the most powerful key to unlocking a heart. In the same way, Jesus made himself vulnerable to the ultimate degree. Where he could have assumed power, he instead became a servant and let himself be abased. Where he could have judged, he instead forgave and set free. Where he could have avoided pain and suffering, he instead immersed himself into the human experience of limitation, fear, and death. And all of this without the assurance of any response from our side at all. Because he didn’t do all this to get something, but because he is something – the personification of love.

As the story of Patrick and David unfolds, we see the evidence of crumbling walls and a thawing heart. David starts to respond. He starts to trust. His face now carries this perpetual, irresistible smile that comes from knowing he is loved for who he really is. He starts giving back to Patrick in his own, arresting way. The beauty inside of him, the potential to love with passion and abandon, starts to be evident to the audience. This realization made me wonder how much more potential God must see in us than what we expect. We mostly see our flaws and insecurities, because they speak louder than the still voice of wonder. But God, who created us, knows what we are truly capable of. And he has yet to give up on a single one of us in bringing these hidden blossoms to bloom.

There’s much more that could be said about all of this. Like Dan Levy’s (the writer and lead actor) comment about dealing with reactions of homophobia toward the show: “I do feel like we’ve never ostracized people whose beliefs didn’t necessarily align with what we were doing. We just showed how much better life can be if you put those beliefs aside, and really let people grow and thrive. So much love comes from it, and so much joy and happiness and strength.” 

Or the fact that the most ardent critics of the show are Christians (who didn’t actually watch it but condemn it by just the fact that it dares to allow a man find true happiness in the vulnerable love of another man), to which Dan replied: “From the feedback that I’ve gotten — from either people who have religious beliefs that would preclude them from supporting these kinds of characters, or just people whose political beliefs don’t align with these characters — getting to watch people that they’ve grown to love fall in love with each other, they discovered that they themselves were rooting for these people against their own beliefs.”

These statements confirm my desire to follow that inner compass that has guided me throughout my Christian journey. There’s so much I don’t understand. Very little is black and white anymore in my life. Dan said about the show: “At its heart, this show has always been about acceptance (…) its purpose is to slowly but surely strip back (the characters’) layers of artifice and expose them to love.” This is a goal I could have whole-heartedly signed up for years ago. But, as the gay Christian writer Jeff Chu wrote about the show, “Grace shows up in unexpected ways”. And teaches a recovering “judgementalist” that God can very well speak through an (at times) unpolished sitcom – and if He can do that, is there any place not worth looking for signs of love and acceptance?

Quotes taken from an interview with Dan Levy on Variety, 4/4/20

P.S. The night before posting this, my girlfriend sent me this Instagram feed from Dan Levy to the viewers of the show, so I’m including this in closing.

“Getting to share this show with you, getting to watch you champion it, tell your friends about it, herald its messages of love and acceptance and decency with such empathy and passion…that is something I will never forget. The stories you have shared with me over the years have made me laugh and cry and feel empowered to keep making things that mean something. You’ve taught me that television has the power to not only bring people together in profound and inspiring ways, but also the power to change conversations and consequently, change lives.”