Did anybody watch the debate Tuesday night?
Quite different it was from the presidential debate of a couple of months ago. Between that one and the one this week, there is much fodder for commentary.
Late night shows, radio talk show, news channels, and even our own social media is saturated with this stuff.
We’re steeped in political times, there’s no debating that. It happens every presidential election year, and like it or not, we seem to be in especially high gear this round.
I find myself wondering what kind of a nation we’d be if we put nearly as much attention to our spiritual lives as we do to political pursuits.
These wonderings led me to a couple of pieces of media that I found to be very thought-provoking in these politically-laden times.
One was an article entitled “Jesus Was Fed Up with Politics Too.” Mmmm, sounds interesting, especially since I ponder from time to time what Jesus -he who we profess and aspire to follow – would say about all of this.
According to the article, and as a point of reference, in Jesus’ time, they too were deeply divided by bitter religious and political differences, income inequality, social status, ethnic differences. Sound familiar? The same greed, hypocrisy, and marginalization of some were alive and well.
Let’s remember that Jesus was born at the height of the Roman Empire’s power. They’d conquered most of the known world, including Israel. But there was a difference with the Romans. Unlike previous empires, the Romans didn’t force conquered people to change their religion or customs as long as they kept their obligations to the empire.
In Israel, there was no separation of church and state…political and religious factions were the same. We have conservatives and liberals, they had Pharisees and Sadducees.
The Pharisees were the conservatives and mostly influenced the majority, who were the working poor. The Sadducees were wealthy aristocrats, who actually had a vested financial interest in Roman rule.
And then there were the Zealot groups who hid in the hills and used violence to resist Roman occupation. Lastly there were the lowly Samaritans, often oppressed because of racial identity.
Where was Jesus in all of this? Aligning with the religious powerful groups? No. Starting an uprising to overthrow them? No.
Instead of overthrow, he was more of an undertow guy, tapping into the spiritual currents that lay beneath the surface, the currents that move away from the known, seen shores of status quo.
These currents were movement of hope, offering a new, deeper way to live. Instead of the typical pursuit of power and gain, and even religious authority, he modeled a sacrificial, loving way of being.
And so, each of these political groups saw him as a threat. He was perceived as an affront to the Pharisees’ authority, a threat to the Sadducees cultivation of wealth. And the Zealots hated that “Love your enemy” thing.
In the end, they all colluded to have him killed. A Zealot (Judas) betrayed his location to those seeking to arrest him, the Sadducees delivered him to the Romans to be executed, and when the Romans couldn’t find a crime committed, the Pharisees rallied the people to force Rome’s hand.
All very political, when Jesus wasn’t even swimming in those streams.
With all of this, the author surmises that Jesus was ‘fed up’ with politics. Maybe so, or disinterested at best. But it’s impossible to separate his life from the political world of that time.
He denounced rulers, advocated for the poor, publicly led large groups of people, brought upon himself the anger of the authorities. He died the crucifixion death of a political insurrectionist.
Seen as a religious man, a rabbi no less, steeped in political world…the blending of religion and politics.
When I think of that blending in our own day, my mind quickly goes to Christian Nationalism, which insists that their brand of Christianity inform public policy.
I also find myself pondering how the Jesus we know would blend with this.
And then I stumbled upon a piece of gold, in the form of a sermon delivered by seminarian James Talarico.
As a seminarian, not yet in ordained ministry, this young man has his finger on the pulse of Christian Nationalism.
No less than two completely separate people in my life (one being a self-identified agnostic) have sent me this sermon, saying, “You’ve got to hear this!”
Talarico opens by admitting he’s often reluctant to publicly admit he’s Christian (this professional Christian in the making), because of reasons similar to other Americans who have expressed reluctance to display an American flag…dread of affiliation with this group that Talarico calls a “cancer” on our religion.
As powerful a label as it is apropos.
I have historically leaned more toward the term “bastardization” of the Christian tradition, because it – Christian Nationalism – does indeed change our faith by lowering its value by adding new elements (the definition of bastardizing).
But I actually like cancer better, because of two things. Like cancer, it’s insidious, and like cancer it’s deadly.
Lowered value – deadly.
Sounds dramatic, but we all know that people have literally died at the hands of folks with these ideations. Just ask the family of the Jan. 6 victims.
And if something can be deadly, then it contains power.
Power was at the heart of the insurrection on our nation’s capital (refusal to concede the loss of an election) that winter’s day, and it’s generally what’s at the root of this thistle in the gardens of our democracy and of our faith.
Don’t get me wrong, the concept of power wasn’t a stranger to Jesus. You can’t make the impact he made without power being somehow relevant.
Some might say his kind of power was not of this world, but was instead power gained from his Father, who art in heaven.
I disagree. Oh yes, the kind of power that Jesus wielded was of a very different sort, but there was and is nothing other-worldly or inaccessible about it.
Jesus’ brand of power was about love not money; forgiveness, not social standing; about connection, not politics.
Perhaps what makes this kind of power seem more elusive is because we see so much less of it in our world, and certainly in our nation.
But don’t be lulled into believing that the power reached and preached by him is not of this world.
We – humanity, all of creation – were made for this kind of power.
But, this other kind of power, this cancerous power is a landscape-changer, isn’t it? I know that some of us know this all too well.
BOTH of these kinds of power are.
Christian Nationalism betrays not only the kind that Jesus cultivated, it also betrays the very person after whom this great religious tradition was named.
In his sermon, Talarico says, “They’ve turned this humble rabbi into a gun-toting, gay-bashing, science-hating, money-loving, fear mongering fascist.”
How did we get here? I agree with Talarico when he purported that it began when Christianity was named the state religion by Emperor Constantine 300 years after Jesus died.
If you know about early Christian history, you might celebrate Constantine’s nod to Christianity, because it certainly gave this fledgling religion a huge leg up, ultimately on the world market.
But what it did in essence was weaken the strength of the formula of love, of that other kind of power. It began a 2000-year process of killing and racial and economic injustice in the name of religion.
The early Christians, by the way, didn’t call themselves Christians. They called their movement “The Way”…the new way of living.
When it became secularized, it became bastardized as it became weaponized and anaesthetized and privatized by those with governmental and military power.
And so you see, the course was set way back then.
Branding with Jesus.
As it’s continued, this darkness, this cancer on one of the greatest Lights the world has ever known no longer lurks in the shadows.
This is how it’s not like cancer. Cancer does its work mostly quietly. Today Christian Nationalism is like an unapologetic big, boisterous, belittling bully.
The irony is, if we were a truly Christian country, we’d never want to be a Christian country because of the inherent marginalization that it would foster toward non-Christians.
The concept of Christian superiority is an oxymoron…
it flies in the face of the Gospel message.
Ironic still are the differences between the religion Jesus established, and what this blasphemous outgrowth has produced and fosters.
Sharing vs. greed.
Peace vs. violence.
Forgiveness vs. judgement.
Inclusion vs. exclusion.
Liberation vs. control.
Mutual love vs. mutual hate.
Jesus wasn’t about establishing a religion. His was goal was to bridge us to Reality (that’s with a big R -the ultimate Reality of creation…the reality of unity and harmony, of accountability and humility and truth)… all the antithesis of Christian Nationalism.
Here’s a real-life story that underscores this. It comes from The Truth as I Know It, A Conversation with General Peter Pace
There was an event in Vietnam where I almost made a very serious mistake. We had been on a patrol, and a young Marine named Lance Corporal Guido Farinaro, 19 years old, was killed by a sniper. The bullet came from a nearby village. I was the platoon leader, and he was my machinegun squad leader. I was enraged, and I called in an artillery strike to get the sniper. Then I looked to my right and saw 21-year-old Sergeant Reid Zachary. He did not say a thing, but he simply looked at me, and I knew what I was about to do was wrong.
“I called off the artillery strike and we swept the village, as I should have done in the first place. We found nothing but women and children, as the sniper was long gone. I don’t know that I could have lived with myself had I done what I originally planned to do. I don’t think I would be standing in front of you today. I had almost allowed the rage of the moment to overcome what I thought was some substantial thinking about who I was going to be in combat.
“After the event, I called my platoon together and I apologized to them. I told them had it not been for Sergeant Zachary, I probably would not have made the right decision. The reaction of the platoon was amazing. It was a very warm, family response, and I learned that a leader admitting mistakes, and thanking those who point them out to him or her, is really important.
You hear in this story the juxtaposition between the two types of power.
This commander had the power to exert aggression because of ego and rage, and instead chose the other kind of power, of humility and thoughtfulness.
The perceived weak shall be the one who exercises strength, the apparent strong responder (as in this case) would have chosen folly.
How applicable this is to Christian Nationalists, who are more committed to the love of power than to the power of love.
This is a fitting story from this military commander’s story. What about us, the commanders of our own narrative?
I agree with Talarico that it is obligatory for Christians to confront and denounce Christian Nationalism. But first we have to learn where it is, what it looks like, and what existing efforts are out there for us to support.
Here’s an example of what it looks like.
The Texas Board of Education is considering paying school districts to teach Bible stories in public schools. They’re holding hearings over whether to implement a new elementary curriculum that poses conservative Christian theology as fact and uses Biblical stories to teach academic concepts.
They’re using money – offering districts $60 per student – to make this switch.
The Christian Nationalists don’t acknowledge this for what it is…a clear violation of the Constitution and religious coercion that is anything but Christ-like.
And we heard an example of counter-movements that are out there to support in our second reading about Rev. William J. Barber’s “fusion politics.”
Fusion politics.
Blessed be the Rev. William Barbers, the fusers/the gatherers, the peacemakers.
And as the Old Testament prophet Isaiah said:
Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil;
Who put darkness for light, and light for darkness;
Who put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!
May the sweet light that radiates in our souls draw us away from complacency to engagement.
May the truth of our Christian faith inform not only our minds and hearts, but move our hands and feet.
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