Trump and evangelical idolatry

The front-runner as the Republican Party’s candidate for president is a thrice-married billionaire whose stance on abortion has changed like the wind and who doesn’t support any of the culture war themes that have defined Christian involvement over the past 40 years. But among self-identified evangelicals, Donald Trump is actually ahead — way ahead — of evangelicals Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio and Dr. Ben Carson. Does that make sense?

Well, no, unless you consider what many of them really want — according to Ryan Dennison and quoting the Washington Post’s Joseph Locante, a "protector in chief."

The culture war, which got started for real in the 1960s but reached electoral status in the 1980s, at bottom always was a turf war, with anyone seen as a threat to some people’s superior economic class status needing to be neutralized without pity or mercy. Let’s not forget that tough talk, especially against the Soviet Union, helped Ronald Reagan win two terms as president, nor the large number of evangelicals who listened to Rush Limbaugh and other conservative talk-show hosts who made a mint trashing everyone in sight.

Thus, those who decry Trump’s status among Christians due to his bombast simply haven’t been paying attention.

Moreover, this should hardly be news to Bible readers, as ancient Israel on at least two occasions in its history craved a strongman. One was the monarchy, which was never God’s design in the first place but demanded by the people because they wanted to be like other nations that also had kings. The other was a misinterpretation of the promise of a Messiah, whom they hoped would expel the occupying Roman Empire. (Not for no reason did Jesus never volunteer the information that He was the Messiah.)

Thus, we’re looking at not just a political but also a theological issue — theological in that people really don’t want to trust God for anything and believing that being armed to the teeth and keeping “outsiders” out will lead to security and prosperity. Can anyone say “idolatry?”

It’s likely that Christians’ support for Trump is connected to their relative power and prosperity in American society — when you have it you tend to want to keep it. No matter what. And that’s the real problem.

Objectification thanks to ‘modesty culture’

Recently author Jefferson Bethke made a video "How Culture and Religion Both Objectify Women" during which he mentioned that even a focus on encouraging women to dress "modestly" still transforms them into objects. That actually makes sense to me.

You can perhaps understand a girl's embarrassment when she's asked to kneel to determine if a skirt she's wearing is "too short" -- that is, touching the floor or not. How much does that matter in an eternal sense? Really? Is that something we want to emphasize, their being judged on how they're dressed? Of course there's good "taste" -- which I think the Apostle Paul meant -- but to determine such things with hard-and-fast rules misses the point.

Rules, of course, often skirt over the heart of the matter, that we're not to treat each other as pieces of meat. It's very unfair to suggest that a woman hide her femininity for the sake of men who don't want to take responsibility for their actions or attitudes.

Two personal reflections: The early-to-mid-1970s "granny skirt" craze took place when I was a pre-teen, and since my female schoolmates were generally more mature than most girls I was drawn to that -- and them. Of course, the skirts went down to the ankles so very little skin showed, but to this day I find such lengths, including, and perhaps especially, evening gowns, incredibly attractive.

Then, a few years ago I found myself being "turned on" by a woman I met through a church singles ministry whom I've never seen wearing anything but casual, let alone in a dress. A couple of months later, when we were planning to go out on a date (the attraction turned out to be mutual), she told me that she had very little in dressy clothes.

So let's not focus on "externals."

Objectification thanks to ‘modesty culture’

Recently author Jefferson Bethke made a video "How Culture and Religion Both Objectify Women" during which he mentioned that even a focus on encouraging women to dress "modestly" still transforms them into objects. That actually makes sense to me.

You can perhaps understand a girl's embarrassment when she's asked to kneel to determine if a skirt she's wearing is "too short" -- that is, touching the floor or not. How much does that matter in an eternal sense? Really? Is that something we want to emphasize, her being judged on how she's dressed? Of course there's good "taste" -- which I think the Apostle Paul meant -- but to determine such things with hard-and-fast rules misses the point.

Rules, of course, often skirt over the heart of the matter, that we're not to treat each other as pieces of meat. It's very unfair to suggest that a woman hide her femininity for the sake of men who don't want to take responsibility for their actions or attitudes.

Two personal reflections: The early-to-mid-1970s "granny skirt" craze took place when I was a pre-teen, and since my female schoolmates were generally more mature than most girls I was drawn to that -- and them. Of course, the skirts went down to the ankles so very little skin showed, but to this day I find such lengths, including, and perhaps especially, evening gowns, incredibly attractive.

Then, a few years ago I found myself being "turned on" by a woman I met through a church singles ministry whom I've never seen wearing anything but casual, let alone in a dress. A couple of months later, when we were planning to go out on a date (the attraction turned out to be mutual), she told me that she had very little in dressy clothes.

So let's not focus on "externals."

Lessons from black history, part 2

“You must know something I don’t know.”

That was the reaction I got when I responded to a white conservative fellow Christian who was exulting that George W. Bush had been declared the winner of the 2000 presidential election that I had voted for Al Gore. Apparently it never occurred to him that Christians don’t uniformly support the modern conservative agenda.

Well, he was ultimately right. as most African-Americans, even Bible-believers, don’t. (And by most, I’m referring to over 90 percent.) There are reasons.

To most African-Americans, “conservatism” is more literal — it represents an unwillingness to share political power with those not of that purview because their history in this country by definition reflects a need for social change.

To wit, who supported slavery? Who opposed civil-rights? (And both were “endorsed” by the Bible, by the way.)

It’s also a reason that blacks who promote the conservative agenda are often considered “sellouts.” In many cases it’s literally true in that a few have actually accepted money available through conservative foundations to do so — after all, that was also done under slavery, with “house Negroes” receiving better treatment than those in the field and squelching any hint of rebellion.

So what does this have to do with “black history?” Let me turn that around: What doesn’t it have to do with it?

Lessons from black history

This marks the annual recognition of Black History Month, when special attention is paid to the achievements, individually and collectively, of African-Americans.

That said, while you do have a burst of references to the “first” person of that heritage to make some milestone — and, don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of those — studying history isn’t, and shouldn’t be, about “trivia.” We do so also to learn lessons about where we were, how we get there — and, ultimately, how to move forward.

Two years ago I was a guest on an internet radio program talking about the subject, and the host and I talked about several figures: Jackie Robinson, Doug Williams and Miles Davis.

Robinson’s place as the first African-American to play Major League Baseball in the modern era is secure, but that had to do with more than just his presence. Brooklyn Dodgers general manager Branch Rickey did want to integrate the game and chose Robinson do to it not simply because he was a great player, which he was; rather, Rickey had two other things in mind.

One, he wanted to build a cohesive team with someone or something to rally around, with the intention that if someone called Robinson a name other players would stick up for him and, thus, build camaraderie. Two, because black baseball was more exciting in those days, Rickey wanted to reach out to the black public, and its money, by bring black players in.

In the case of Williams, the quarterback for the Washington Redskins in the late 1980s, opportunity was knocking. When the Redskins were about to face the Denver Broncos in the 1988 Super Bowl, gums were flapping about Williams’ race — you know, “can a black quarterback win the big one?”, a question I personally found insulting. Someone asked me for a prediction, and I called a Washington victory because “Doug Williams will have the game of his life.” Result: A 42-10 laugher, with Williams throwing four touchdown passes in the second quarter (still a record for not only a quarter but also a half).

Davis, the jazz trumpeter and composer who reinvented music a few times, moving from bebop to “cool” and later fusion, ignored critics and waited for them to catch up to him. (Which they did.) Rather than focus upon whatever might make him a star, he blazed his own path, where others eventually followed. That’s his legacy.

And these are the kind of things we should look for.