I read an editorial in the Alligator the other day entitled “Game shouldn’t feature Tebow’s Bible eye-black,” in which the editor opined that EA (a game-maker who featured Tebow on the cover of a recent video age) and UF (who may have a statue on campus soon) should have no obligation to include Tebow’s Bible-quoting eye blacks in their representations of him.
I’ve long had conversations with people about the separation of people’s public personas and their private faith. As someone who’s determined to learn from all people and enjoy the contributions of non-Christians to society, I’d be a hypocrite if I said I’d never taken pieces of a public person without swallowing the whole.
But I believe we take it too far when we deign to remember and commemorate a person, and indignantly insist on our right to separate out only the parts of the person we like, brushing the rest of the person under the rug. It’s a mildly revisionist form of memory, which is bad to start with. It also reflects a foundational attitude toward the people being remembered: we want to remember your public persona (or, the parts of it that we like), and we demand access to that persona without the entanglement of your personality.
Tebow’s one example. The editor contends that since Tebow is being commemorated because of his athletic ability, his evangelistic side–which Tebow himself never separated from his athletic side, which could be seen in the eye blacks in question–was the reason for his commemoration. It’s not the end of the world for me if some video game doesn’t have Bible verses on the front; I completely support their right to put Tebow-sans-Scripture on the front of their game. But it’s the attitude of the author that gets me, an attitude which I’ve seen reflected in the nation’s attitudes towards other people we commemorate.
One example that I’ve seen often is Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Since we love having the inspiration of a passionate civil rights activist, we have dedicated a day to him; there are streets and civic buildings and ceremonies dedicated in his honor. However, we feel like we can celebrate the parts of him we like–civic hero–and throw out the parts of him we don’t–passionate preacher of God. For me, I just don’t see how you’re celebrating his legacy when you throw a party to remember what he did for you–and completely avoid mentioning why.
One good counter to my argument, which I’d love your thoughts on: if what I’m saying is true, must we also celebrate his alleged (or proven? I never really looked into it much) unfaithfulness to his wife? How do I feel comfortable throwing that part of him away? Any thoughts? Am I just being a hypocrite?
