I'm a True Believer: Hayley Williams, Deconstruction, and Far-Right Christian Nationalism

A rant-filled post about how much I loved that song by Hayley Williams with several tangents.

POLITICAL OPINION

Jada Murray

9/5/20257 min read

If you’ve had Hayley Williams’ seventeen singles on repeat, specifically 'True Believer,' how’s your deconstruction going? Not religious and don’t know what deconstruction is? Consider yourself mostly lucky because are any of us lucky if we’re living in the USA? We’re all being affected by harmful far-right Christian nationalist ideologies, even those who believe.

Anyway, according to Merriam-Webster, deconstruction is defined as “a philosophical or critical method which asserts that meanings, metaphysical constructs, and hierarchical oppositions (as between key terms in a philosophical or literary work) are always rendered unstable by their dependence on ultimately arbitrary signifiers.” Another definition is “the analytical examination of something (such as theory) often in order to reveal its inadequacy.

When I say deconstruction, I am referring to examining my religious beliefs. As someone who grew up in the church and served on the Youth Usher Ministry for years, I didn’t start my deconstruction until after college. Even during college, I “tried” to find churches I wanted to attend, but after a few services where everyone wore matching shirts and talked too much about modesty and abstinence, I decided: I quite enjoy my free Sundays. And Wednesdays. And Fridays.

I spent almost every Sunday of my life going to church, sitting through sometimes two separate services. There were countless Fridays at Youth Group and several Saturdays at luncheons, conventions, and other events. Occasionally, a Wednesday or Thursday afternoon would be thrown in for fun. For a while, it didn’t bother me, even as I got older and had to cancel plans with friends. Sure, I was annoyed, but it didn’t quite hit home until one of my friends said, “You’re always at a church thing,” and only then did I start to feel weird about it. Did I stop going? Absolutely not. The church members felt like family—they are still family to me even if I don’t actively speak to any of them, and my grandmother probably would’ve killed me.

But, it wasn’t all bad, or at least that’s what I tell myself. There wasn’t a major incident where I felt harmed or in danger by a member of the church. Were we told during almost every Sunday sermon that we were going to hell? Yes. Was I extremely uncomfortable about how some things were handled? Yes. Did lines and boundaries blur? Also, yes, but again, it wasn’t “bad.” If it sounds like I’m trying to convince myself that I wasn’t in a mini-cult, bear with me because so many of my childhood memories are non-existent.

However, it wasn’t until I left New Jersey and the church that I realized that I don’t like organized religion. I don’t like the idea of gathering every Sunday and sitting on someone’s pew and hoping the Pastor doesn’t call you out because they heard about something you said or did. Hoping they’re not about to say something homophobic, racist, or ableist. Hoping they’re not leading morning service and abusing children in the afternoon. I fear it’s too much to give. To sit there and commit so much time and life just to be surrounded by others who share the same beliefs as you, because beliefs vary, don’t they? What do you do when members of the congregation believe in God, but not equal rights? How can one stand there and praise the same God?

Those who are "believers" are harmed by these practices unless they're in the top eight percent. You know the top eight, the ultra-wealthy, the ‘have more money than they could spend an entire lifetime, yet they want more’ top eight. Unless you're them, no one in this government actually gives a shit about you, unfortunately. Okay, I'm sorry, maybe a max of ten people care about American citizens as a whole.

They're passing legislation aligned to strip you of all your rights and money, and your sanity. They want you afraid to leave the country, afraid to stay, make it so your body is constantly in fight or flight, deregulate your nervous system, isolate you so you’re easier to control. They want you dumb. Dumb and reliant on something that you can’t touch. They’re selling you God and if they can’t sell you God, they’ll sell you A.I.

Anyway, I've gone on a rant. Back to why I started writing this...True Believer. I’m still digesting this song, but there were a few lines that made me think: God, I've gotta rewrite Churchbred. If you don’t know, Churchbred is a book I wrote about a sheltered preacher’s daughter who initiates a relationship with a biker despite her imminent engagement and unravels her family’s dark secrets and plans. The idea for it was born after listening to Preacher’s Daughter by Ethel Cain and then watching several documentaries about the harm done to people in the church. Church hurt, if you will, but those things made me think about my own upbringing in the church. I channeled all of that into my novel and spent over a year working on it and then a bit querying it before I moved on to the next. But all of that to say, I love anything that makes you think harder or re-examine your beliefs.

As I said, True Believer made me want to rewrite the whole book from several lines, but let’s go over the most important ones:

Gift shops in the lobby

Acts like God ain’t watching

Kill the soul, turn a profit

In Churchbred, Elora’s father wants to build a church so large they’d need binoculars to see him in the pulpit. Why would anyone ever want that? No clue, but I recently saw someone at a worship festival at a stadium. It looked so strange to me--- performative even. I knew if it was because of the rise of far-right Christian nationalism and I wondered if I’d feel the same if they publicly spoke out against injustices using their large platform, but I digress.

The South will not rise again, ‘til it’s paid for every sin

When I heard this line, it kinda stung. I grew up in Jersey, but I love the South. I chose to attend school here, my family can be traced back to a small town not too far from where I live now. Yes, the South played a major role in the transatlantic slave trade and continued to fight to keep Black people down, but a majority of Black people still live here. We’re in the devil's den down here, but this entire country has a racist past. No mile is exempt. I’d love to see a new generation of Southerners who are able to recognize the racist past and learn from it.

I could’ve sworn I had more lines, but let’s get back to Christian nationalism. With its rise, how can people who actually care about their fellow citizens be willing to worship openly with others and celebrate their God when the person next to them probably voted to rip away the rights and healthcare, and citizenship of millions? How can someone who doesn’t believe tell the difference between you and them? How could someone know that, hey, you’re not like that. You love everyone and think everyone deserves rights and to walk freely without worry of being kidnapped. How can they tell?

Christianity has survived worse, but I believe it will forever be associated with the downfall and crumbling of freedom in the United States. You guys let them weaponize it, and as soon as it became a weapon, it lost all credibility. Some would argue it lost all credibility when people held a fictional book in higher regard than their own intuition, but I digress.

Back to weaponizing an entire religion because not only was it weaponized against those who don't believe and aren’t affiliated it’s used as a tool of suppression. Used to keep entire communities "in line", used to be tiny cop cities disguised as sanctuaries. It's tragic because there are churches that are doing the Lord's work and fighting the good fight, and they’re not covering up assault or telling everyone every Sunday that they're going to hell. They’re not casting people out because of their sexual orientation or gender. They’re not using funds to just build a bigger church. They’re helping their community, they’re holding themselves accountable, and they’re preaching about hope and loving others. The only issue? Those churches are getting harder to come by, and even then, they’re still not perfect and still capable of causing harm. Organized religion has been co-opted by actual non-believers. They don’t believe in God; they believe in the bottom dollar. They want more people in church, they want you to give up more of your time, they want you to bring in friends, and you think it’s because they want more people to worship with, but a ship can’t run without a crew. The wheel doesn’t turn without the cogs.

I lost the plot here, didn’t I? What started with me talking about how much I loved ‘True Believer’ and about deconstruction morphed into a full-blown rant. At a time when we have turned to music and the arts in general to cope with the current administration and all the harm it’s causing, I think it’s important to take a second look at what you can be consuming. Take a second look at those around you. Have the hard conversations. Talk about your opinions. Be open to changing your mind. Everything isn’t going to change overnight, but we need to get religion out of politics unless we’re open to all religions in politics, not just one.

Above all else, find something to believe in--whether it’s yourself, an outspoken musician, or God. If you’re wondering my stance on God…I still believe. If that invalidates everything you just read, that’s fine, but I’m reminded of that line from Conclave when Cardinal Bellini said the late Pope didn’t have doubts about God, he lost faith in the Church.

Until next time…