Make a social blunder, and you’re finished
“Why all this vicious gnawing on each other? If you are not careful, you will find you’ve eaten each other alive!” Galatians 5:15 VOICE
Adam Rapoport was a brilliant editor at one of my favorite magazines, Bon Appétit. When he left GQ in 2010 to take the helm of the popular foodie pub, I immediately noticed a change. His editor’s notes were warm, interesting, and personal. Under his leadership every inch of editorial space became engaging. Ethnic foods assumed a prominent place. As GQ’s former style editor, Rapoport also elevated the design. But last summer a photo his wife posted on Instagram ended his career. It showed the two of them at a 2003 Halloween party dressed as Puerto Ricans, and she referred to her husband as “my papi.” The New York Times reported Rapoport resigned only hours after the photo “resurfaced” on Twitter. His staff, wrote The Times, decried his “stereotypical depiction of Puerto Ricans.” He had dressed “in a racially insensitive costume.” They called for his resignation on social media. Complaints of discrimination began circulating. He was 50 years old, and he’d been writing and editing for 26 years. His career began at the James Beard Foundation; his father was a journalist. He’s Jewish.
Two days after his resignation, on June 11, Susanne Ramírez de Arellano wrote an editorial for NBC News. A Puerto Rican herself, she excoriated the fallen editor. “Rapoport and his wife were not simply playing Halloween dress-up; they were rich, white racists using Halloween to reinforce their personal stereotypes about poor Puerto Ricans in urban areas, of which they likely personally knew none.” After criticizing the lack of authentic Puerto Rican recipes in the magazine, she added, “the ‘Puerto Rican’ costume was a deliberate construction of a caricature of Puerto Rican culture — and how the economic marginalization of that culture in the United States is an object of ‘fun’ for rich white people.”
There was no indication she personally knew Rapoport or his wife, yet she made assumptions about their motives, friends, and morals. From one Twitter photo that was seventeen years old.
Rapoport’s writing at Bon Appétit suggested he was a thoughtful, considerate, and open-minded man. He ushered the magazine through a decade of transformation, pushing it even further from its WASP roots as a Chicago liquor store giveaway in the 1950s. The magazine’s profile soared. Under his leadership, Bon Appétit collaborated with YouTube channels, launched a podcast, and created instructional videos. Its coverage of cuisines of non-white communities expanded significantly. The magazine was fun to read and cultivated a spirit of camaraderie, of bon appétit.
As noted, his wife posted the picture. Did she realize the horrible social blunder she was making in 2003? Did she know that someone with a grudge against her husband would post the photo seventeen years later? Apparently it was posted anonymously after a disgruntled Puerto Rican food writer—who wanted to make Rapoport look bad—made public her private conversation with him.
Adam Rapoport not only resigned, but he embraced his shame. He promised to “reflect on the work that I need to do as a human being.”
And there went the magazine career of a brilliant, imaginative, and talented editor. A man with a sense of humor who probably knows what it’s like to be type-cast and marginalized. Remember, he’s Jewish.
Our culture is flooded with similar stories. James Bennet, the editorial page editor at The New York Times, resigned last summer, too, on June 8, three days after he approved a Republican op-ed. Senator Tom Cotton (Arkansas) wrote that local law enforcement should get federal support as looting and violence swept American cities in the wake of George Floyd’s murder. The Times, of course, did not support Cotton’s position, but that’s the purpose of the op-ed page: to give voice to contrary opinions. Cotton was certainly qualified to write, and not only because he’s a lawmaker. The Arkansas-born son of cattle farmers—who wrote a column for Harvard’s student newspaper as an undergrad, and who also earned a law degree from Harvard—served in Iraq and Afghanistan with the U.S. Army. He had firsthand knowledge of the use of force to establish order.
But city mayors were loathe to request federal support as demonstrators destroyed stores and restaurants as they mocked law enforcement. According to a report from the Armed Conflict Location & Event Data Project, demonstrations in 220 locations were violent or destructive. The 2020 riots caused the deaths of 19 people and, according to insurance estimates, property damage of $1-2 billion.
Cotton spoke for many Americans who were alarmed by the reluctance of local elected officials to protect public and private property.
Back to Bennet. Not only did he resign, but Times editors crafted a lengthy explanation as to why they should not have published the piece. Their reasons included “overstatement” and a “needlessly harsh” tone. I found this explanation disingenuous, because such qualities frequently characterize Maureen Dowd’s op-eds in the Times.
They attempted to absolve themselves and to create distance from Bennet.
So who is James Bennet? Did he usually show bad judgment? Consider Joe Pompeo’s description of him–Pompeo is the senior media correspondent for Vanity Fair: “In my interactions with him as a reporter, Bennet has only ever been responsive, kind, and willing to engage.” This quote is from his June 8 article covering Bennet’s resignation. He wrote: “A core principle guiding Bennet’s approach to the section was that readers should be exposed to such ideas, not protected from them, and he was committed to publishing writings that would, by their very nature, draw intense criticism.”
Reporting on the debacle, Pompeo stated that Bennet appeared duly shamed at Times meetings. At a video town hall for staff, an attendee said Bennet “seemed beaten down. It was kind of crushing to watch him.” Later in the day, Bennet was “brought to tears” in a video conference with the Opinion staff.
Ah, the Cancel Culture hard at work.
Do we chime in as Christians? Yeah, he had it coming. Or do we roll our eyes at the self-righteousness? What? Have they never done anything stupid? Who do they think they are?
Neither. Although we shouldn’t be surprised when the world acts like the world, too often we fail to give an alternative. Here are three ways to respond differently.
WITH HUMILITY
The world is shocked by sin. We aren’t. We know we’re sinners.
The world is shocked because people are enamored with the fiction that they’re good. “I would never do that,” is not an uncommon phrase in America; in fact, a popular idea is that of the good heart. Now this is not entirely unbiblical—Jesus himself says, “Good people do good things because of the good in their hearts.” (Luke 6:45 CEV). In the context of good and bad fruit, we understand what he means. But he also says, “No one is good except God alone” (Mark 10:18 ESV), a truth underscored by Paul when he wrote, “all have sinned” (Romans 3:23 ESV). Indeed, it’s clear to any observer that humans are inconsistent, selfish, stubborn, and prone to doing or saying dumb things. In fact, worse than dumb at times, evil. Christians understand this more than anyone because–by faith–we know who God is. In knowing him, we’ve seen ourselves rightly.
So although the world is shocked by sin, we aren’t because we know the truth about human nature. Our attitude, therefore, should be a humble one.
WITH RESTRAINT
The world is quick to judge. We’re warned to be cautious.
Susanne Ramírez de Arellano quickly judged Adam Rapoport in her NBC News editorial—her words appeared within forty-eight hours of his resignation. Her speed and vitriol are all too common in America. Our Lord cautioned us to see the log in our own eye before attempting to remove the speck in someone else’s. This over-the-top metaphor needs no interpretation. But why is judgment such a serious matter for the Christian? Perhaps it’s because we fail to take seriously the Final Judgment that lies ahead. If we did, we would be less likely to point fingers. Our attention would return to our own actions, to how we plan to explain ourselves when we come before Almighty God, maker of heaven and earth. Paul wrote, “we will all stand before the judgment seat of God … each of us will give an account of himself ” (Romans 14:12 ESV). Not only will we have some explaining to do, but our words about others will be the very measure by which we ourselves are judged. This is terrifying! “Judge not,” Jesus warned. “God will be as hard on you as you are on others!” (Matthew 7:3 CEV). That one sentence should bring all of us to a screeching halt.
A Christian should be slow to jump to conclusions about others.
WITH REDEMPTION
The world brands people. We believe in redemption.
In America, we’ve grown up with the notion that prisons are for bad people. While it’s true that there are some wicked people are behind bars, it’s also true that many are not career criminals. Yet instead of giving them an opportunity to redeem themselves—which is a biblical idea—we take away their freedom, lock them up in a dehumanizing facility, and exchange their name for a number. I’ve learned a lot this past year about our broken system by taking a class through Prison Fellowship.
Restitution gives people a chance to get their dignity back. It’s a biblical idea. For example, during Old Testament times, if you stole someone’s sheep, slaughtered it and sold the meat, you had to pay back the owner with four sheep (Exodus 22:1 ESV). What would happen to our justice system if this applied to retail theft, which was $45 billion in 2019? Or take accidental killing. In North Carolina, involuntary manslaughter is a Class F felony with up to 20 years in prison. But if you committed involuntary manslaughter in Old Testament times, the community actually protected you from revenge by the victim’s family. You moved to a Safe Town.
What I’m saying is this: if you make a mistake in our current social climate, you’re done. Your career, your reputation, your opportunities are gone. As followers of Jesus, we should vigorously disagree with such condemnation. We believe in redemption; we believe that people can and do change. We do not subscribe to the idea of “bad” people and “good” people because we understand we’re all bad. In fact, apart from God’s grace none of us will change.
With God’s grace, anything is possible.
TO SUM UP
Although it’s important that we understand and obey God’s law–and defend it (“the law is holy,” Romans 7:12 ESV)–we must guard ourselves against hypocrisy. When our culture jumps to conclusions, Jesus admonishes us not to judge rashly. When our culture shames those who’ve committed certain sins, the Bible reminds us of our depravity. When our culture mocks, Psalm 1 warns us not to sit with scoffers. When our culture insists on vengeance, the Apostle Paul declares we should never avenge ourselves. (Romans 12:19)
And when our culture encourages us to question the motives of others, we’re advised to question our own. Paul wrote to the Corinthians: “Check up on yourselves. Are you really Christians? Do you pass the test? Do you feel Christ’s presence and power more and more within you? Or are you just pretending to be Christians when actually you aren’t at all?” (2 Corinthians 13:5 The Living Bible)
If we are humble and show restraint—and hold out hope for redemption—we will shine as lights in this dark era of Cancel Culture.
“For then you will be seen as innocent, faultless, and pure children of God, even though you live in the midst of a brutal and perverse culture. For you will appear among them as shining lights in the universe” (Philippians 2:15 The Passion Translation).