Brad Olson: Recognizing the virtues of Brother Stephen

About a month ago, as I watched for around 30 minutes, Brother Steve stood surrounded by a multitude. Some were dumbstruck, mouths gaping and eyes wide with amazement. Some cooed and stomped indignantly in his way, protesting either in passionate anger or latent vanity, hoping they might foster a Jerry Springer-esque cheering jamboree. And finally, some heckled and teased him audaciously, interrupting his diatribes with jaunty and scurrilous rejoinders.

As much as I winced and sighed at Brother Steve's pronouncements against Islam, homosexuality, "reefer," Judaism, abortion, Catholicism and, well, anything that is not what he believes is right, none of these stirred me to anger nearly so much as this third group of onlookers who took so jovially to mocking him.

Why? Well, because believe it or not, there are a few of his qualities that I admire. Before I go on, because I know this will win me a great deal of scorn and contempt, I want to make clear that as a Mormon, I am marked in the world of Brother Steve, as are many of you, to proceed to hell after I die.

So, now, on with the manifesto.

My first inkling in his favor is to say that at least he cares. At least something matters to him, something burns in him enough that he can make a fool out of himself advocating for it. More poisonous even than Brother Steve's vituperative banter is the pervasive apathy so many students subscribe to instead.

All apologies for the blanket statement because I know scads of people, religious and irreligious, that care about a great deal.

But it is no secret that we, yes, myself included, are often distracted by things vacant and mundane. I have lately grown weary of hearing what happened at this party or that, of knowing how plastered you were this weekend and how much you enjoyed the casual sex you had or the bowl you smoked.

I am also tired of hearing how little you studied for your exams or how doleful and melancholy you are because last night you had to pull an all-nighter to write a paper.

I would rather listen to an unharmonious and awkward hallelujah from Brother Steve any day than hear these most half-baked of ruminations.

Secondly, I admire that Brother Steve knows a great deal about what he is preaching. On the day that I watched him, among the many that tried to raise their remonstrating fingers higher than his, one girl exceeded all others in myopia and naivete.

After quietly murmuring objections to Steve's every preaching for 20 minutes, she finally raised her voice enough to attract his attention. He stopped and listened.

Her principal disapprobation was that Jesus "preached diversity" and "acceptance." She kept asking, in regard to his condemnation of all religions not appropriately Christian, why they all couldn't be true.

Brother Steve smirked impishly at the question, undoubtedly one he has answered before, and began by grabbing a copy of the Koran from one of the younger people that had come to assist him. In his right hand, holding the Bible, he said emphatically, resembling the languid and loud sort of communication most people reserve for groups of small children, "In this book, it says that the baby Jesus was born in a stable in Bethlehem."

Then, holding up the Koran in his left hand, "In this book, it says that the baby Jesus was born in the desert under a palm tree."

Now, he pretended to be confused: "Well, which is it?"

For this next question, he squatted and pretended to be in labor. "Did Mary start having the baby in Bethlehem," he waddled, still in labor, to a tree on College Green, "and then run over to the desert by a palm tree to finish the job?"

Even the girl laughed a little. Unlike so many advocates, especially political pundits and ideologues, Steve knows what he is defending and knows how to put on a show with those who don't, a show so weird and spontaneous that his opponents sometimes wind up laughing at themselves.

I should concede that these "qualities" I admire in Brother Steve also characterize some of the most vile, horrible people in human history. Certainly, Hitler believed in something too. To be vehement is not necessarily to be good.

But even disagreeing with many of the rash and bold declarations he makes, I believe there is more to Brother Steve than most of us really know.

Behind his fiery proclamations, he is a real and decent person. He is married with two children. He has a house and recently opened a religious center close to Temple University. He takes troubled kids under his wing (even allowing them to live in his home) and is often involved in community humanitarian endeavors.

But most importantly, he eats and drinks to stay alive and he puts his pants on one leg at a time. Yes, like it or not, he is a human being, too. Brad Olson is a senior History major from Huntsville, Texas.

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