Revolutionary Women of Texas and Mexico: Portraits of Soldaderas, Saints, and Subversives

women (and some men) spoke more openly about the sexism, sexual harassment, and even sexual abuse they had experienced working with the male clergy of their churches. As Martin puts it, “the story that began to emerge from women in conservative American evangelicalism in the aftermath of the Access Hollywood tape acknowledged new plotlines” (152). Because some evangelical women began to openly acknowledge the sexism and abuse within the religious institution, rewriting some of the institution’s narratives, evangelical stories about other typically progressive issues, for example, immigration and separating families at the border, also shifted. Narrative is key to the way in which the rhetoric of active passivism “allows for action, but denies agency,” letting evangelical Protestantism, as Martin describes it, “have it both ways” (169-70). Martin admits she finds this feature of the discourse “profoundly confusing,” yet her argument ultimately suggests that the storylines involved in the rhetoric are what enable such a logical contradiction to exist and even “make sense” (169). While narrative as rhetoric is often treated as a foregone conclusion in rhetorical theory, Decoding the Digital Church reveals why Walter Fisher’s notion of narrative fidelity remains instructive for understanding how audiences can hold conflicting belief systems with little to no perceived material conflict in their daily lives. Fisher says stories disguise logical contradiction and fidelity is about “‘truth qualities,’” not logical consistency, so narratives such as these allow concern for logical consistency to be sidestepped altogether (“The Narrative Paradigm: An Elaboration.” Communication Monographs, vol. 52, no. 4, 1985, pp. 349-50). Thus, Martin’s book suggests that the story of narrative as rhetoric may have only just begun.