Christian fiction sounds pretty straightforward. You would think that the quickest way to recognize whether a book fits in that genre would be to ask the question, “If you ran into God in the middle of this novel, how surprised would you be to see him?” If you’re not surprised at all, you’re probably reading Christian fiction. If he took you considerably by surprise, you’re probably in a different section. Right? But that’s not the case.
Even if you don’t regularly read Christian fiction, let’s walk down that aisle. What would you expect to see? You’ve got your Amish romance section (a weirdly specific niche, but it’s a thing), your frontier romances, and any number of other covers with a wishy-washy title and woman in a historical dress gazing pensively into the distance. Somewhere, there will be a section of fiction either from the perspective of real biblical figures or a new character set in that time. You might accidentally walk past the row of Christian crime fiction if it weren’t labeled Terri Blackstock. And if you look closely, you’ll find a patch of Christian fantasy: grittier and more imaginative than most Christian fiction, often somewhat allegorical.
As you can probably tell, I have strong opinions about this. And while yes, I am a Christian, and yes, God shows up in my work, I don’t want to leave my books to the mercy of this genre and its more limiting qualities.
Before I go any further, let me say this: I don’t dislike all Christian fiction. I have several precious favorites on my own shelves, and they get reread more than most. Many are a happy place to disappear when life gets rough, and some of my favorite characters and romances find their homes within those volumes.
But I find three main aspects of Christian fiction highly limiting, if not downright troubling. Some are funny and some are serious, but as a reader and an author, these are what keeps me out of the Christian fiction aisle.
1. Things shouldn’t be too easy for the characters, nor hard beyond redemption.
One of my biggest pet peeves in the Christian fiction genre is the same one I have with most Hallmark movies: they make problems look simple and easy, rather than the long healing process they usually are. That, or they go to the other extreme and are so riddled with tragedy that the only logical solution would be for every character to hightail it out of that community.
The first I take as mockery; it makes me want to gag most of the time, and despair when I’m encountering real problems that can’t be resolved by meeting a perfect man who is as unique as a cardboard cutout and starting my own impossibly easy business. The second I take as poor writing and a phenomenal inability to properly drive a plot.
I know, I know: sometimes you just need a bit of joy, and these happy endings do that for some people. I don’t have anything against happy endings; I just hate when they’re too easy for me to even enjoy.
2. Too many are the same. (Looking at you, Hallmark!)
That’s really all I had to say. As a writer, if your hundreds of novels feature four major “types” of characters, you need to get some fresh air, read more books outside of your genre, and try to resuscitate your creativity. And as a reader, I simply believe you deserve more.
3-4. I want to write for both believers and non-believers, and following Christ isn’t about culture.
It’s pretty safe to assume that most people who read Christian fiction consider themselves Christians. But if I want to write for and specifically reach out to someone who isn’t already a Christian, it’s a pretty safe bet that I’m not going to run into them in the Christian fiction aisle, just as they probably won’t darken the door of a church. So how is the Christian message supposed to reach the people who need it the most?
Maybe I’ve misunderstood the main purpose of the Christian fiction genre. Maybe it’s not to spread faith in Christ, but to entertain those who are already believers. I can appreciate that; I know what it’s like to want to read a good romance without running into a descriptive sex scene. I think a lot of readers look to Christian fiction as a safe harbor: happy stories (usually) with certain expectations of clean language and limiting graphic sex and violence.
But while I appreciate the safe haven this genre can provide, I don’t want to limit my audience to believers. One major reason I write about God the way I do is to break through all of the stereotypes and limitations of people’s previous experience and startle them with his closeness and realness. To be completely frank, I want unbelievers to know they can come to Christ even when some members of his body are telling them it’s complicated or they can’t.
I don’t buy into faith that rests in adhering to certain genres of entertainment, group memberships, or cultural party lines. I want to break through all of those expectations and give believers and unbelievers alike a chance to meet Jesus in an unexpected way and hopefully ignite the desire to get to know him personally, independent of our surrounding culture.
One of the major barriers I think keeps people from exploring faith in Jesus is the feeling that they don’t fit into the culture surrounding current believers, rather than anything deeply theological. And what a sad, stupid thing to stand between someone and Christ!
Let’s be mature and face it: churches are like any other group in the world. We have our (hopefully united) core message that Jesus is our Savior, but just by nature of being a group of humans, we’ve created our own subcultures. Once we’re settled into a community, it’s easy to get lost in the camaraderie and forget that our sole purpose is one that brings groups of starkly different people together under one banner, rather than one that makes us all alike.
Some of my favorite comedians are Christians who are able to poke fun at the superficial but dividing differences between denominations. I am of the opinion that it’s crucial to keep doing that, not just because it’s funny, but to remind us not to take our differences too seriously. Some of the greatest opposition, hatred, and even violence against believers often comes from other believers, and why? Because we believe “I’m right, you’re wrong, and that gives me the right to beat you into shape.” Do me a favor and revisit the Gospels, because while Jesus definitely corrected people, you’ll find that these methods were not his style.
The idea of a “Christian culture” has contributed to some of the very atrocities that keep people from wanting to ever entertain the idea of Christianity. Think of the Crusades. The Inquisition. Wars between different groups of believers. Kings who chose a sect of Christianity and killed anyone who didn’t comply. Massacres of native peoples and their cultures. What went wrong? How did a supposed missionary movement turn into a bloodbath?
I think the simplest explanation is that many people have come to think that because Christianity is such a major part of Western culture that everything in Western culture is connected with or even compatible with Christianity. Translation: We often preach our culture instead of the Gospel, or even equate the two. This is outright wrong.
Did Jesus command us to go and make disciples of every nation? Absolutely. Did he want us to confront idolatry and atheism when we found it? Of course. But did he ask us to vilify people or treat them as if they’re dirty because they’re from a certain part of the world? No. Did he tell us to destroy their culture and replace it with our own and claim to be doing so for the sake of the Gospel? Absolutely not!
Jesus didn’t die to save us from speaking different languages, eating different foods, or celebrating different holidays. He suffered to save us all from the same mark of sin, independent of our culture. When we take what was merely the cultural context to one group of believers worshiping God and turn it into a hoop through which any other group of believers has to jump in order for us to believe they’re saved, guess what? We’re modern Pharisees, adding to God’s law outside of his will.
As you can see, my reasons for avoiding membership in the genre “Christian fiction” range from personal preference to broader beliefs about faith and evangelism. Christian fiction carries too much baggage, whether in expectation or artistry, and I wish to be free of it in order to reach a broader audience and talk to them about Christ in a startlingly intimate way, all while telling a story that is dear to my heart and refreshingly original.
Quite simply, don’t put me in that box. I don’t like it in there.
