An Open Letter to Candace Cameron Bure

Fun fact: I write letters to people in my head. A lot. I’ve done it for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid (back in the dark ages before email and internet), the ones that absolutely needed to get out of my brain and onto paper were carefully written on a piece of loose leaf that I took from my Trapper Keeper, folded up, and stored in a little pencil box whose only purpose in life was to house all the Important Letters That Aren’t Actually Meant To Be Sent.

These days, those letters might be written in a journal or, in some cases, become a blog post.

The following has been rattling around my head since Candace Cameron Bure’s new show, Fuller House, debuted on Netflix. Or, to be more accurate, since her armchair critics started raising their collective voices. It’s been screaming at me, and keeping me up at night. So, in an effort to quiet my own voices (and hopefully to spare my poor husband yet another “You know what the Christians are doing now??” diatribe), here it is in its entirety. Hopefully in a more coherent format than that the exists in my head.

Dear Candace,

I grew up watching Full House on TV. To be fair, I grew up watching a LOT of shows on TV, but Full House was one I distinctly remember, and remember fondly. I remember your changing hairstyles – and all the hairspray that kept them that way. I remember Kimmy Gibbler. I remember Uncle Joey and his voices, Danny and his obsessive cleaning tendencies, and Uncle Jesse and that song he would sing to Rebecca. I remember Stephanie’s “How rude!” and Michelle’s “You got it, dude!” I remember an episode that hinted at your character developing an eating disorder. I remember your sweet relationship with Steve. I remember the episode with your cousin Steve too, because for some reason I always get a little bit excited when real-life family members guest star on each other’s shows.

It was silly, and light, and I enjoyed it. Good family fun.

I watched it with my own kids too, particular my daughter, so she was very excited when Fuller House was announced. We both followed you (and your lovely daughter) on social media, so we felt like we knew you by the time it aired.

We blitzed through all the available episodes in just a couple of days. My review – greatly summed up because it really isn’t the point of this letter:

It was fun and goofy. I liked that it relied heavily on nostalgia, that it didn’t take itself too seriously, and that it wasn’t afraid to break the fourth wall. My daughter and I both enjoyed it.

And then I started to see the comments. Oh my word, the comments. Not aimed at the show, but aimed at YOU specifically, for daring to be part of it. The skimpy outfits! The sexual innuendos! The drinking! The cursing! The dancing with Kimmy! And the worst part: the personal judgments. The “I’m so disappointed in you”; the “How can you call yourself a Christian?”; the “You need to repent for this”; the “You’ve sold out to the world”; the “You’re nothing but a hypocrite.” That kind of self-righteous stuff makes me crazy, and is exactly the reason I’ve distanced myself from mainstream Christianity. And I can’t really understand it either. I mean, if you don’t like the show…. don’t watch it. Easy peasy, right? Why make it personal? Why attack someone?

And as a side note, I still haven’t figured out what people mean when they complain about cursing. Unless they mean Jesse in the first episode when he said, “Damn, we still look good.” And c’mon. Let’s be honest. Damn, John Stamos DOES still look good (as do all the rest of you). And since I’m being real… if I had Jodie Sweetin’s breasts, I’d want to show them off too.

But I digress.

In the grand tradition of promoting what you love instead of bashing what you hate, I don’t want this to be about “those” people at all. I really don’t. I want it to be about you. As I said earlier, I have followed you on social media for a long time, and have read your books. You are one of the few people in the public eye that I think of when I think of someone “walking the walk.” The way you live out your faith is admirable, and the amount of grace with which you deal with the backlash is amazing. I so respect the way you handle yourself in such an unforgiving industry, and have learned so much from you in following your journey.

Interestingly, we seem to have very little in common… our parenting philosophies, our political views, our theological beliefs are all markedly different. The thing we share though? The only thing that really matters? Our love for Jesus. Our desire to live our lives in a Christ-like way. There are so few prominently Christian people that I follow online, particularly conservative Christians (sorry), mainly because of so many people’s overzealous need to preach. And often, to judge. But you don’t preach. You don’t judge. You just… you just live it. You love people. You practice kindness. You practice grace. You’re real, and honest, and are exactly the kind of Christ-follower that I aspire to be.

And that’s all I really wanted to say. In the midst of the judgment and the nasty comments and the hatred veiled in Christian love: keep doing what you’re doing.

You’re wonderful. And a little cleavage and a scene with tequila shots doesn’t change that.

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3 Comments

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3 Responses to An Open Letter to Candace Cameron Bure

  1. Elizabeth

    Love the way you express your thoughts, Jen. I agree with all you wrote. Thanks for being such a sane voice for all of us who aren’t as gifted with words.

  2. Theresa

    Christians are not the only ones with comments. Non-Christians are talking of her hypocrisy and that is the sad part.

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