Saving evangelicalism from itself — finally addressing race and racism

Sunday’s New York Times contained an op-ed piece, “Can Black Evangelicals Save the Whole Movement?” by author Molly Worthen, who posits that African-American spiritual leaders are finally finding an audience in the broader evangelical community.

“Hear, hear,” I say. I submit that it was eventually bound to happen because of the Biblical admonition that whatever hurts one part hurts all of us.

Worthen, described in the tag line as an associate professor of history at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, writes that the focus on diversity is finally going beyond hiring black staff and adjusting worship styles, good and necessary as they may be. We African-American evangelicals, due to our history, also read Scripture differently than the broader evangelical community, and what’s really required is a willingness on the part of said community to make room for us there as well.

My own denomination, the Christian and Missionary Alliance — which is about as theologically conservative as it gets — has begun to take steps toward real healing between races and ethnicities as a result. To be honest, I’ve been somewhat surprised that it’s happening, but I’m gratified.

It was probably the rise of the Promise Keepers in the late 1980s which caused a turning (though my own church had made the effort to diversify a bit before that). Part of that was founder Bill McCartney’s experience as a teen — he would tell you that, when it came to his football career, he experience “white privilege” in getting college scholarship offers that his black teammates didn’t. Later, while serving as head football coach at the University of Colorado, he became an advocate for his black players.

Be that as it may, a growing number of white Christians are beginning to empathize with their “siblings of color.” And not just on a personal level, either.

Worthen noted that Walter Strickland, a theology professor at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary who is African-American, has been advising congregations on how to address systemic racism. And he puts things in theological terms.

“There was the fall, and all we do now as God’s vice regents is influenced by that fall. So if we’re sinners in need of redemption, so, too, are all the things we create, like law, policy, procedure, practice. That right there is systemic injustice,” he said.

I’m keeping an eye peeled. If the church ever grapples with institutional racism it would go a long way in uniting the Body of Christ. That can have only positive effects — including the spiritual revival that many evangelicals say they want.

No, it's not about 'partisan hate'

Last week David French of the conservative National Review magazine wrote a piece, “Partisan Hate Is Becoming a National Crisis,” that has been well-received by a number of people, even on the political left. And taken at face value, it does sound conciliatory, that the two sides need to put aside their differences and work together for the good of the country.

But if you look at it from any historical perspective, French gets it dangerously wrong on several fronts.

1) It was never a “partisan crisis” as such as one of ideology — and even not purely “ideology” as such when it came to specific political positions. That should have been obvious with former Sen. George Voinovich saying around the time of the 2008 general election that “If [President Barack Obama] was for it, we had to be against it ... [Sen. Mitch McConnell, now Majority Leader] wanted everyone to hold the fort. All he cared about was making sure Obama could never have a clean victory.”

2) This didn’t start two years ago with Donald Trump. It didn’t start 10 years ago with Obama. It didn’t start 25 years ago with Bill and Hillary Clinton. It didn’t even start 40 years ago with Ronald Reagan.

No, it started back in the mid-1950s — in part with National Review itself, which came out of the “new right,” inspired by the Army-McCarthy hearings of 1954. The late founder William F. Buckley Jr. used the magazine to try to streamline conservatism, which is inherently reactionary, into an intellectual force, which sounded noble on the surface but proved ultimately unworkable because folks often vote their fears — against rather than for something.

Newt Gingrich accelerated the divide between conservatives and “liberals,” with the assistance of the “religious right,” which spent a lot of money raising funds against the political left. (To this day, I remember the ominous statement of a pastor in suburban Atlanta who seemed to be gleeful at the destruction of political enemies, punctuating one rant with “[F]or our God is a consuming fire.”) And then you had right-wing talk radio beginning in the late 1980s, sprung loose with the repeal of the Fairness Doctrine. Later on you had the right spreading the nonsense of Obama being a crypto-Muslim wanting to impose Shariah law on the United States.

Only since Trump’s election in 2016 have liberals begun to push back with any serious force, riding his incompetence and alleged corruption to victory in the House of Representatives two years later. But that’s what happens when you spend the last few decades picking at your opponents — they’re bound to react.

Now, in fairness, National Review is trying to do a balancing act, largely supporting Trump’s agenda while denouncing his comportment — in essence, trying to stay above the fray; the trouble is, of course, is that people were attracted to his crudity in the first place because they saw it as a sign of his, shall we say, authenticity. But, like all politicians and probably more than most, he desires to be worshipped, so he has rewarded the “religious right” with packing Federal courts with conservative judges in the hopes that Roe v. Wade would be overturned (he himself likely doesn’t give a hoot about the issue of abortion in its own right).

It’s true that Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi has said that impeachment of Trump, which many Democrats demand, was not going to happen, referring to it as “so divisive to the country that unless there’s something so compelling and overwhelming and bipartisan, I don’t think we should go down that path, because it divides the country,” French, quoting an interview in The Washington Post, saying that it reflected her high-mindedness. Nonsense — it reflected political reality, since GOP senators won’t vote for it as things stand now precisely because they owe their positions to Trump. In other words, if they were to vote to impeach him the base would revolt.

The Weekly Standard, another conservative opinion magazine but never supportive of Trump, recently folded, likely because of that stance, so NR might feel compelled to call for civility in its own right. But modern conservatism was never supportive of a civil discourse in the first place, even despite Buckley’s attempt to foster such. And that’s ultimately why French gets it wrong — at times civil discourse means telling an opponent, “You really do get it wrong.”

Shelving the "golden rule"

"So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets."

 —  Jesus, as recorded in Matthew 7:12

Something that I've found very interesting about the "religious right" in general and evangelical supporters of Donald Trump in particular: By displaying hostility toward, and thus trying to defeat, folks who don't agree with their politics they often claim that they want to save American culture from secularism and "bring God back" to society.

The irony is that their very activity is precisely what's causing America to turn more secular in the first place due to their failure to observe the "golden rule," taught not only by the LORD Himself but also by most other world religions.

Basically, you simply don't ignore the essential tenets of religion in order to maintain a veneer of piety for the sake of power.

Something else to ponder: When you have political, social, economic and cultural power, why would you have need of or want the Power of the Holy Spirit? It sounds to me as though such folks are putting themselves in the place that is rightfully His.

You may be thinking, But Christianity in this country is under attack. Frankly, I don't believe that, and even if that were true, it seems that you've forgotten that you, too, were an enemy of God — as I myself was. The difference is that today I understand the dictum "But for the grace of God ... ," and because I get that I've been willing to put myself in the shoes of those who may hate me for whatever reason — and I don't assume that it's because of my faith.

You see, one thing that much contemporary evangelicalism has lacked over the decades is a willingness to identify with the suffering, especially when the person/people involved don't share their faith.

Indeed, such compassion for enemies is what motivated Martin Luther King Jr. to preach, directly to them, "One day we shall win freedom, but not only for ourselves. We shall so appeal to your heart and conscience that we shall win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory" [from "Loving your enemies"].

Want true revival? Then treat people the same way you want to be treated — no insulting or patronizing remarks toward those who don't agree with you. Remember that you have to earn the right to be heard, and badmouthing them as "godless" doesn't win hearts, let alone souls.

The codependency of Christian Trump supporters

Those of us who have been involved in 12-step recovery movements over the years understand the term "codependent," a take-off on the original term "co-alcoholic" for family and friends, often a wife, of an alcoholic who, because of the partner's own addiction, has centered his/her/their behavior around the hope that, for the good of the relationship, the person will eventually change. Often the partner calls him/her off work when drunk or hungover or might say, "Well, s/he really didn't mean that" concerning an inappropriate public remark made when drunk.

Probably the two key books published in the 1980s following the adult-children-of-alcoholics movement were Melody Beattie's "Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself" and "Women Who Love Too Much: When You Keep Wishing and Hoping He'll Change" by Robin Norwood. I've read the latter book which, despite my being a man, proved very insightful.

You can guess where I'm going with this. The vast majority of evangelical Christians who support President Donald Trump seem to have this delusion that he will suddenly turn into a strong Christian leader who will wipe the "enemies of God" from this nation — this despite his womanizing, abuse of workers, stiffing of contractors, ignorance of basic Scriptural principles and lack of humility and remorse. They do so likely because he demonstrates hatred toward many of the same people that they do — those of color, Hispanics, Muslims and, especially, those of a more politically liberal bent.

I think we need to face facts: Trump is who he is and will, and likely can, not change because, like the active alcoholic, his own needs take primacy over everything and everyone else. We also need to face that, because of our own emotional ties to him, the Good News of redemption and reconciliation through Jesus Christ is being besmirched, sabotaged and downright compromised. And that also may say something about us as well because, rather than an attitude of selfless service, we often display one of bullying power for the sake of maintaining our privileged status.

I don't see Jesus in that at all, and you can bet that much of the rest of the world doesn't, either.

The irony is that Lois W., wife of Bill, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, was encouraged by her husband to find her own recovery; according to the biopic "My Name is Bill W.," he had to confront her because she had become so accustomed to his drinking that she couldn't handle his being sober and accused her of trying to pull him "off the wagon." She thus started Al-Anon, which uses the exact same steps and principles of AA, originally as a support group for wives of alcoholics but which has since opened to anyone in any kind of intimate relationship with an alcoholic.

And the first thing you learn in Al-Anon — and I did attend meetings myself for quite some time — is that trying to change a person to suit you is not only impossible but indeed shouldn't be the focus anyway. There's a reason the church has no business having any relationship with any politician — it has a mission to accomplish, and coddling or bashing elected leaders inherently interferes with that purpose.

Look, I don't particularly care if Trump says he wants to end legal abortion or even takes steps to do so; after all, addicted people often make promises to just to keep their subjects in line even without conviction. This is what happens when we declare such a flawed person a messiah — we forget that he too will have to face God someday, where the one question to be asked is "How well did you reflect Me?".

This is yet another reason I say, "Either Jesus or Trump." Ultimately, you will have to choose.

The Cohen conundrum

Michael Cohen, for 10 years lawyer to President Trump and who is about to spend three years in prison for participating in his corruption, called the president “a racist, a con man and a cheat.” That isn’t, and shouldn’t be, news to anyone who’s paid attention to what he’s said and done over the years and especially since early 2017, when he was inaugurated.

However, so far I haven’t heard a word from many of these conservative Christians who have defended the president as having a “Cyrus anointing” from God to bring “righteousness” back to this nation. Perhaps they have a different concept of “righteousness,” such as not exploiting people, treating them fairly et cetera, than I.

What I suspect they mean by “righteousness” must be limited to banning abortion, driving gays back into the closet and reclaiming their desire for cultural supremacy, because I’m seeing absolutely nothing righteous about him or his administration.

You mean that’s not enough? How can that be? There’s something called the “fruit of the Spirit,” the “love” chapter of 1 Corinthians 13 and the Beatitudes in Matthew 7.

Well, we didn’t elect a pastor, you might say. Right. You’re supporting a bully who’s about to have his head handed to him, and when that happens you’ll lose whatever spiritual authority you have or desire because you refused to hold him accountable for his sins — because, in practice, they’ve become yours as well.

Indeed, you’d be surprised with the number of people turned off the Gospel — I have a lot of Facebook friends who simply don’t want to hear it — because of Christian support for Trump.

During the hearing yesterday Cohen, who I mentioned is headed to prison, appeared humble and contrite saying, in effect, “I sold out.” True. I wonder how long it will take for Trump’s Christian supporters to realize that they too sold out.

The church's sexual abuse crisis: Missing the point

Of late, sexual abuse in churches has been in the news.

Last year, a grand jury report here in Pennsylvania mentioned 301 priests, including one I knew personally but not well, in six Roman Catholic dioceses who were credibly accused of such dating back to the 1940s.

Last week, the Houston Chronicle and San Antonio News-Express published an investigative story noting that 200 pastors and deacons in the Southern Baptist Convention had themselves participated in such.

And, of course, those are the ones that could be confirmed, the issue likely being far more widespread than mentioned.

It’s really easy to say that the problem is sexual deviancy (especially in the case of the priests, who are vowed to celibacy) or the position of power that they hold in their respective churches.

In taking a “Soul Care” class at my church, however — the class is based on a book of the same name written by a pastor in my denomination — I've come to realize that part of the problem is that due to their positions clergy often have no one holding them accountable for not just their actions but also the brokenness that they brought into the ministry in the first place.

Put another way, it can be an issue of pride — that they couldn’t admit that they too suffer from the disease of sin and are in constant need of the grace of God in order to maintain the positions to which they felt called. Thus, attempts at “damage control” often make things worse, as offenders end up going from church to church bringing their unaddressed baggage with them.

Yes, clergy ought to be held to a higher moral standard than the laity; that being said, clergy likely face more spiritual attacks due to their position. My pastor is not afraid to ask for prayer because he knows full well that he can’t carry out the tasks to which he’s been assigned — “run errands” for the Holy Spirit, as one of the church founders put it — without it. And I myself have occasionally laid hands on him.

It might be that if these folks had come clean long ago, their respective churches might not have a crisis.

Trump the politician

When Donald Trump decided to run for president numerous people enthusiastically supported him, saying, "He's not a politician -- he says what he believes and would keep his promises because he won't owe anyone." I said from the jump, however, that he was as much a politician as anyone.

And now that he's declaring a "national emergency" in his demand for a wall along the border with Mexico, he's proving himself as such.

By numerous accounts, there is no crisis. Cities along the border are markedly safer than much of the rest of the country. Illegal immigration is as low as it has been in a decade, in large part due to stepped-up enforcement of laws already on the books plus an improving economic climate in Mexico. A recent shipment of drugs seized at the border came through a legitimate checkpoint.

So why is the president doing this? I suspect that he's attempting to placate his xenophobic, borderline-racist base, which cares about nothing except getting its way. (In fairness, he may personally believe this, but that's beside the point.)

Remember the five-week government shutdown that began right around Christmas? That wouldn't have even happened had he not been egged on by right-wing provocateur Ann Coulter, who claimed that he was caving on the border wall. And since Coulter's audience has a sizable number of Trump supporters, the vast majority of who refuse to accept defeat under any circumstances, he was almost obliged to keep the charade going. (To remain in power, any politician needs people who will agree with him.)

In the end, of course, he didn't get funding for that wall. And in negotiations that took place afterwards and facing a deadline of today, he still didn't get it, so now he's declaring a constitutionally-dubious "national emergency."

The bigger issue, however, is how many evangelicals not only have fallen for this hack but still worship him. Promise to overturn Roe v. Wade and they're bowing before him (never mind his lack of character, his broken promises and his trashing of Biblical norms, for which they'd criticize a Democrat in a New York minute). I would think that a group of people who understand the insidiousness of sin would be more cynical about people once they get into office and understanding the give-and-take of the political process.

At this juncture we're talking about a full-scale assault on the Constitution, specifically "separation of powers." That's why we likely won't see any kind of wall anytime soon, if ever, during Trump's administration because it would likely be tied up in court.

I heard recently that, while Trump cannot but lose this battle, he's engaging it because "He's a fighter" -- read: He'll be a martyr victimized by, among others, the political left and the "deep state." But in fact, this was a fight that he was bound to lose, especially going up against Nancy Pelosi, once again Speaker of the House, who knows how to chew him up and spit him out.

And if and when -- I'm banking on the latter -- that happens, we should see how foolish it was for us to place our trust in him or anyone else except God.