When Christian Nationalism Came To Town
Why I’m not ready to throw the baby of Christianity out with the bathwater.
In an effort to consolidate my writing, I’m porting over articles I penned on Medium here to Substack. In an effort to stay true to who I was, am, and am becoming, I’m not touching a thing–no editing or editorializing of my previous work will happen as I bring my writing here. I will simply note the original date each piece was published. Enjoy!
[This article was originally published on December 8, 2020 on Medium.]
Last weekend, the drama being played out in families across American because of polarization, Christian nationalism, and election fraud conspiracy theories breached the walls of our home. Suffice it to say we’ve now experienced our own relational breakdown due to conflicting ideas about truth and the future of both Christianity and America (which are one and the same to many).
I feel more and more heartsick by the week as so-called Christians continue to pledge their allegiance (and in extreme cases, even their lives) to the Cult of Trumpism. The attempt by the Trump-led GOP to overturn the election results becomes more farcical by the week, but that doesn’t seem to deter white evangelical Christian nationalists. It was one thing to know that “out there” are Christians who are so willing to sacrifice Biblical standards–not to mention the sacredness of absolute truth–for the President, but another entirely to have these conspiracy theories living and breathing in my own home.
Once again, as usual, David French meets me exactly where my broken heart is at. He summed it up so well in this week’s newsletter: “We can pray peace will prevail, but we’d be fools to presume it will.” Peace certainly did not prevail in my own family, and if this weekend’s demonstrations by Christian nationalists in D.C. and across the country are any indication, I don’t see peace on the horizon any time soon. French in his own words:
“We’re way, way past concerns for the church’s “public witness.” We’re way past concerns over whether the “reputation” of the church will survive this wave of insanity. There is no other way to say this. A significant movement of American Christians — encouraged by the president himself — is now directly threatening the rule of law, the Constitution, and the peace and unity of the American republic.”
I’m desperate for the Church in my country to once again (or maybe, if we’re honest, for the first time) be the shining light and bastion of love, Truth, and compassion it could and should be. But I also feel hopeless that the repentance required will ever happen. The American (conservative, evangelical) Church is ruled by power and fear, not grace and mercy.
So, I ask myself, is it time to throw the baby out with the bathwater?
I’ve been “church homeless” for 8 years. My faith has survived this desert wandering thanks to an amazing network of multigenerational Jesus-loving, Jesus-following Christians in my life, who have continued to walk alongside me despite my lack of institutional faith community. But what happens if there’s never a place for me in the American Church again? How hopeless can I allow myself to get, knowing this is a road that could lead to an abandonment of faith entirely?
I don’t have a fully-formed answer to this yet, but my instinct tells me (led, I pray, by the Holy Spirit) that the answer lies in both historical Christianity and global Christianity. America–specifically the white, evangelical American Church–does not own Jesus. There is an entire world of cultures that find their hope in our shared Savior, expressed in as much beautiful variety as this world holds. There are also adjacent faiths, like Judaism and yes, even Islam, that have a shared past Christians can learn from.
And we have thousands of years of church history–the good, the bad, and the ugly–to look to and learn from. We can see other instances of power corrupting God’s people and leading once Godly institutions astray. We can find hope in the persecution Christians have bravely faced across centuries. We can stand confident in our faith because we’re still here.
I have a Christian nationalist (“Christianist,” as the brilliant Andrew Sullivan has coined) family member who is convinced we’re living in the End Times™. She buys every conspiracy theory about the loss of religious freedom, the Mark of the Beast, the imagined persecution American Christian will face if Democrats gain power. How badly I want to grab her shoulders and shake her until she realizes we are not the first Christians. We are not the most important Christians. And God willing, we won’t be the last Christians.
So I’m turning to friends around the world who are living out their faith in Jesus in their own cultural contexts, from Western Europe to Zimbabwe to South Korea. What does it mean to follow Jesus outside of America? What can I learn about who God is from them?
And I’m turning to history. I haven’t even scratched the surface here, but what did it mean to follow Jesus in the first century? During the Holocaust? And in every century in between?
And yes, I’m even turning to other faiths to better understand my own–led by the likes of the amazing Barbara Brown Taylor, in her book Holy Envy. It should be required reading for any Christian who feels the tug in their heart that there must be more to faith than our conservative evangelical churches have taught us.
I’m left feeling just as heartsick, but now with a glimmer of hope. The bathwater might be foul, but the baby is still worth saving.