So there’s been a social media maelstrom recently over the various things Chick-Fil-A has done wrong from a PR standpoint. For those of you who have been abducted by aliens or engrossed in TomKat’s divorce papers for the last two weeks, here’s the skinny:
- Chick-Fil-A has amazing chicken sandwiches.
- Chick-Fil-A is owned by Baptists who hate the gay, and they just reminded us all. The phrase “biblical principles” was thrown around, and when it’s said, we know there’s some kind of judgment a-followin’.
- People who’ve never eaten at Chick-Fil-A (because they’re gay and it’s not on their diet, or they live in a state that doesn’t have one) are swearing never to eat there, and the pundits are having loads of fun.
- People who used to eat at Chick-Fil-A have stopped, because they didn’t know the founder of the company had that attitude towards the harmless gays have stopped eating there (this is a small minority including people like Ed Helms.)
- People who are otherwise gay-friendly, gay-tolerant, or gay-indifferent (but who still might have gay friends) say things like “Sorry, but I just love their chicken.”
It’s the people under heading number 5 that I take issue with. For a while (because I’m understanding like that) I said, “I totally feel ya bro. Their chicken is pretty awesome; we’ll just agree to disagree.”
But then the more I thought about it, I said “Wait a minute. This is a problem. So you mean to say that you fully understand that by buying a sandwich from Chick-Fil-A, you’re knowingly putting money into the hands of people who would not only deny me the right to marriage equality, but would also prefer it if I simply didn’t exist the way God made me? I’m gonna, ya know, go ahead and take issue with that.”
I mean, seriously, where do you draw the line? It’s not really about the chicken anymore (even though you have to wonder about some people’s devotion to chicken. “Oh, you can’t live without that chicken sandwich? I suppose it is more important than my civil rights. ‘Cause you know, you can’t go to another chicken place, and I can always find something else that’s just like my civil rights. Like getting married in another country even though it won’t be recognized here. Or having rights in one state, but not in another, because they’re not on the same page (it’s a little Jim Crow-ish, isn’t it?)
Sorry, I just love their chicken.
No, you’re not sorry. I hardly think you’re weeping into your chicken sandwich about what they’ve done. Sure, I understand. They’ll treat me quite cordially should I choose to go in there. I can go in and say “I’m a homosexual, and I’d love one of your holy chicken sandwiches.” And they’ll say “My pleasure.” Sure, it’s not a lunch counter in Selma. It’s not a city bus in Montgomery. We’re not getting attacked by firehoses and police dogs – but do we need to? Do we need to go to jail to prove that this fight is just as important?
Try this instead. Make a donation in my name to the charity of Chick-Fil-A’s choice, now that you know where the money goes. If you can stomach that with a clear conscience, by all means, enjoy your damned sandwich.