Praying for the President

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As news broke that the President has COVID, I began seeing some conservative friends post about the need to "pray" for his speedy recovery and condemning liberals who are supposedly wishing for Trump's death. I agree we should pray for the President, but how to pray is a deeper issue. 

First, I am sure that a lot of these posts about liberals wanting Trump to die are somewhat driven by bots and algorithms because I have yet to see any of my liberal or progressive friends on social media say these things. They may critique the President's lack of precautions or see this result as a natural consequence of his actions, but I have not seen the wishes or prayers for him to die as these memes and posts would make us believe are widespread. Are there people who are hoping Trump dies? I'm sure. The comments sections anywhere on the internet are filled with both conservatives and liberals who make similar wishes of their opponents; this is not unique to a political side. For example, comments sections regarding Chrissy Teigens' miscarriage will show you conservatives and pro-lifers rejoicing in her suffering under claims of "God's judgment" and that "she deserved it." Desiring suffering and death for our enemies is a human condition, not a political one. My fear is that creating a straw man with posts that presume a majority of liberals want Trump to die from COVID is not helpful to our public discourse, when in reality many (perhaps most, including Biden) are wishing and even praying for a recovery. Bad apples are out there, but let's not create a boogeyman. 

However, when I first saw Trump supporters and evangelicals advocating for others to "pray for the President's quick recovery," there was something inside of me that initially recoiled. I've had the same reaction over the past few years whenever I see politically charged memes calling on Christians to "pray for the President" in various capacities. It's taken me a day or two to sort out why. 

After thinking about it, the reason for my apprehension was not because I believe we shouldn't pray for our President, but rather because the surrounding context makes such calls seem (even if unintentional) simplistic and shallow. 

What I mean is that, while I've seen both conservatives and liberals offer their prayers for a recovery, the strongest calls for prayers for the President's health have come from many of the same people who have consistently backed Trump and refused to criticize him or hold him accountable. Often these are the same people who feel it is their duty to frequently remind their political opponents (using 1 Timothy 2) that they should be praying for the President's success. At the same time, there was often silence about offering the same kinds of prayers for Obama, or at least with much less enthusiasm. 

This is the crucial context. When some Christians give enthusiastic support on a regular basis to a President the majority of Americans see as immoral, corrupt, and cruel, praise him as the "greatest President ever," and fail to EVER offer critiques, people begin to question the morality of your faith. As I've said before, I believe this uncritical and enthusiastic support for Trump from many evangelicals is driving the final nails into the coffin of the church's moral authority and integrity in the eyes of outsiders (and of many insiders). In that context, your calls to pray for Trump ring hollow and are heard by many as just another partisan ploy. I personally don't doubt the sincerity of my fellow believers, but without a prophetic denouncing of Trump's wrongs or equal calls for prayers for your own enemies, such words fall flat. 

Another reason for my reaction is that such calls to prayer seem simplistic and even a bit condescending. Again, given the context, someone who doesn't care for Trump or has been appalled by him over the past 5 years could easily read these posts as "If you don't pray for Trump to quickly recover and get back to his agenda then you are unChristian!" I know that is not likely the intent, but we also know that a big motivation for Trump supporters in praying for the President's recovery is so Trump's agenda or election chances are not ruined. That's simply not going to be a motivation for Trump critics. 

Indeed, if we oversimplify prayer for our leaders, I also think we do a disservice to Scripture. A holistic look a prayer in Scripture reveals a great diversity. 

At one extreme, you have the imprecatory Psalms--prayers for the downfall and destruction of one's enemies and oppressors. 

Psalm 137 reads "Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks." 

Psalm 109 says, "May his days be few; may another take his place of leadership. May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow."

Psalm 10 reads "Break the arm of the wicked and evildoer; call his wickedness to account till you find none." 

Psalm 83 prays that cruel "nobles" and "princes" would be destroyed and "become like dung on the ground." That language doesn't square well with the typical insistence on 1 Tim 2:1-2. 

A concern I have with Trump-voting evangelicals who publicly call on people to pray for Trump's recovery is that they do not consider those who feel harmed and oppressed by this President. I have spoken to and listened to many over the past 4 years who are experiencing heightened fear because of the culture of anger and racism Trump has created against people who look like them. There is little question that the President's flip-flopping on the pandemic, ignoring of scientific advice, and contradiction of his own officials and advisors has likely resulted in several thousand additional deaths that could have been prevented. Others of us are simply disgusted by his lying, cruelty, bullying, and attraction to pride and rage that have real-world consequences. 

The fact is that this President has hurt many people, and many people in this country (including millions of Christians) are longing for the day when he will be out of office. If we take on a healthy view of biblical prayer, then we will not tell people to quickly ignore those feelings of anger and despair, but rather to take them to God. Maybe the first step of healthy prayer for those who oppose the President is being brutally honest with God, even if that honesty, like the imprecatory psalms, admits that they are hoping the virus will claim his life.

 
Likewise, I have spent a lot of time recently reading through both the Psalms and the prophets. The prophets, like in many psalms, call out kings and leaders for idolatry and injustice and warn of consequences for kings who do not heed those calls. For example, in 2 Kings 1, when the wicked King Ahaziah has an accident and lies in his bed dying, he sends messengers to the prophet Elijah to ask God if he'll recover. Elijah's response (multiple times) is "you shall not leave your bed; you will surely die." Elijah offers no prayers for recovery (at least that are reported) because the king has long proven his lack of allegiance to God. 

Similarly, in countless oracles issued by nearly all of the prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Habakkuk, Amos, etc.) oppressive rulers of other nations are promised downfall as a result of their actions. Perhaps the prophets prayed for wisdom for these leaders and peace for their nation first, but after years of consistent injustice and idolatry there was also an understanding in their prayers that God will deal with unrepentant sin. As citizens of God's Kingdom before any other, the US President should get the same treatment and accountability as any other world leader. 

For those of us who do not line up to support the President, we see years of unrepentant sin and idolatry. Just because he throws out phrases and causes that we evangelicals like doesn't mean the man should be emulated or even has our best interests in mind. He has famously bragged about never having repented, and I can't remember a single time in the past 4 years he has issued an apology for any of his countless scandals or sinful words (if I'm wrong I'll apologize for that assumption). 

 
Even though idols of wood and stone may not exist, Trump is no less ruled by idolatry. His idols are pride, wealth, vanity, anger, revenge, and power. He may not have an Asherah pole at his house, but I suspect he's worshipped before a stripper pole before. And these are not all just past faults; many continue daily. Those that are in the past are ones he has never repented of and sees no reason to. Individuals who are more than happy to offer praise and prayer for the President should consider the depth of frustration among the rest of us. Have empathy; put yourself in our shoes. 

Now, if you think I'm going to say after all this that we should pray for Trump's death, you'd be wrong. As I said above, we should come to prayer with an honesty about how we are feeling, and that includes space for those who hope he dies as well. However, for those of us who claim to follow Jesus, we are living on this side of the cross and resurrection. That means we also follow a King (a true "President" if you will) who calls us to "turn the other cheek," put aside anger, "love our enemies," and "pray for those who persecute us." After we've been honest with God and wrestled with our feelings, we should also strive to pray for our opponent's well-being as hard as it may be. 

 
Indeed, the call of Jesus pulls us toward embrace and empathy. This is especially true with COVID. In the past few days I’ve been reminded of the horrors of this disease. Just today, I received a call from a friend whose father was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance because of his oxygen levels due to COVID. I also saw on Facebook today that a community member I knew just passed away from the disease. As I consider the frightening prospect of a diagnosis for families and the pain of loss thousands have already experienced, I lean on these stories to gain empathy for our flawed President whose own family is likely experiencing their own fears and concerns. 

But one final note is also important (Thanks to Chris Dodson for your recent Facebook post that helped me put my thoughts together here). Throughout Scripture there is also a refrain in prayers and songs asking God to "reverse" the world. Kings and oppressive powers should be brought low, and the humble should be raised up. 

You see is in Miriam's and Moses' Song of the Sea (Exo 15): "In the greatness of Your majesty You threw down those who opposed You. You unleashed Your burning anger; it consumed them like stubble....But You will bring your people in and plant them on the mountain of your inheritance." 

You see it in the Beatitudes, especially in Luke's version (Luke 6):
“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh....
“But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort. But Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets."

You see it in Mary's Magnificat (Luke 1): 

"He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty." 

All of these Scriptural pleadings for the mighty to fall are not simply vindictive wishes, but, especially on this side of the cross, they should also carry a hope of justice for the hurting and redemption for the proud and mighty. Like Moses pleading with Pharaoh to soften his heart and avoid destruction, we should hope that the downfall of our own opponents and those who act immorally and unjustly should lead to humility. Adversity and downfall should open their eyes to their complicity in pain and help them see God for the first time. 

Two nights ago I read the story of Manasseh, one of the final evil kings of Judah. He completely reversed the spiritual reforms of his father, Hezekiah, and brought the nation back into idolatry and injustice. And after God spoke to him through prophets calling him to repent, he refused and God allowed the king of Assyria to attack Jerusalem and to capture Manasseh, dragging him away with "hooks" and chains. 

However, there is a part of Manasseh's story I had forgotten about until reading it again. In 2 Chronicles 33:10-16 it details how, while in captivity, Manasseh "humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers." God then allowed the humbled king to return to Jerusalem, at which point "Manasseh knew that the LORD was God." And it seems to have stuck. In the final years of his reign, Manasseh removed the idols from his house, destroyed false altars, and began offering sacrifices to the true God once again. 

The story of Manasseh illustrates how I think those of us who cannot abide Trump should pray. Yes, we should pray for a recovery because Donald Trump is also made in the image of God, even as marred as that image may be. As such, his life is also precious in God's eyes. However, we also cannot turn a blind eye to his idolatries, lies, pride, vanity, cruelty, lusts, greed, anger, and words and policies that continue to oppress our neighbors. So, I also pray that this sickness would bring him low, that it would humble him. 

Because if when you say "Pray for the President's recovery," you mean "pray he recovers so things can get back to normal," I want no part of those prayers. I, and a majority of Americans, are sick of his behavior and lack of integrity. Christians like myself are frustrated with his immorality and amazed by our fellow evangelicals who seem to excuse and give passes for it. We don’t want a return to “normal” Trump. Something has got to give. 

I have prayed for years that Trump would show maturity, wisdom, prudence, and peace. I have prayed he would stand up for all vulnerable people in this country, not just the unborn ones when it’s politically convenient. It has not happened. And in the face of no behavior change, no repentance, and no signs of changing course, the only thing I have left is that God would do something drastic in his life to open his eyes. I pray he would be humbled like Manasseh so that he knows God is King. I pray that in the middle of distress and suffering that he would learn the empathy for his fellow Americans he has often seemed to ignore. I pray that being brought low by a virus which does not care whether you are rich or poor, powerful or weak, conservative or liberal, would teach him humility, patience, gratitude, and compassion. 

Now, if you want to simply pray for the President to recover quickly, that is fine, and you should pray as your conscience and the Holy Spirit leads. But realize that many of your fellow Christians already find it difficult to pray for this man and are struggling for the right way to pray for him. So don't guilt them for not praying your way or be offended when they don't pray exactly like you. 

Yes, pray for the President at this time, but don't expect the prayers of others to match yours. Don't reduce prayer to a political spectacle or weapon. My allegiance is to another King, and the prayers of that Kingdom are deeper than most of us tend to imagine.

 

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Baptism and Racism

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I recently started reading Jim Wallis' newest book "America's Original Sin: Racism, White Privilege, and the Bridge to a New America." I'm only part way through it, but so far there has been lots of good food for thought for white Christians and white churches who often neglect issues of race in our liturgy and worship, preferring to pretend that racism is a "political issue" not a "faith issue."

However, early on, there is one quote that jumped out at me. In the opening chapter, Wallis writes:
"The political and economic problems of race are ultimately rooted in a theological problem. The churches have too often "baptized" us into our racial divisions, instead of understanding how our authentic baptism unites us above and beyond our racial identities."

I think Wallis is onto something here. In American Christianity, particularly the white evangelical variety, we tend to preach and adhere to what Scot McKnight calls the "soterian (or 'salvation') gospel." The "gospel" that gets preached from our pulpits is that you are a sinner, Jesus died for your sins, and so you must believe these truths and put your faith in Jesus and you will be saved from hell and death. Frequently this gospel is also accompanied by a gnostic over-emphasis on heaven as the final destination of the saved, rather than an emphasis on bodily resurrection.

As McKnight and others point out, this "soterian gospel" ends up being extremely individualistic. The "Gospel" is good news for me. Jesus died for my sins. The point of Jesus' life and death was so I could get into heaven. Even within more Reformed traditions that point back to God's glory as the purpose for His actions, the center of the narrative still remains focused on God's actions for individuals.

To bring this back to Wallis' quote, if we are believing an individualized gospel, then it naturally flows that we are also practicing individualistic baptisms. In most baptism services I have seen, the focus of the moment is almost always on the personal profession of faith and the salvation of the one being baptized. Don't get me wrong, that focus is good, but it's incomplete.

Usually absent from modern baptisms is any language of being baptized into a community or of entrance into a new kingdom and people that crosses cultures, race, and language. This is unfortunate because the early church understood this concept.

Certainly, such an individualistic gospel and baptism will cause (and is causing) countless theological and practical problems for our churches, but I had never really made the connection between this watered-down baptism (pun not intended) and racial problems we face within the church. This is likely because of my own white privilege. For us white Christians, we simply don't think about race and racism enough and so it's natural never to ever bring such communal aspects into our baptismal liturgies. But, we would if we were paying attention to the Gospel found in the New Testament and to the modern realities around us.

There's good evidence to suggest that Paul's words on baptism and community in Gal. 3:26-29 were actually part of an early baptismal liturgy used during baptisms. In contrast, we reduce the baptism moment into only a celebration of that individual and their own personal salvation. But what would it look like if we used language similar to Gal 3?

"For you are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus. For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s descendants, heirs according to promise." (Gal. 3:26-29)

For the early church, baptism was less about a symbol of personal conversion to a religious or psychological belief. It was more about an initiation into an entirely new people, culture, and society. Being submitted under the water was not just a symbol of death to sin (as we commonly approach it). It was a ritual depicting death to one's entire old way of life, including one's cultural, racial, and social identities. All those old identities were washed away and you were raised up into Abraham's family, into the people of God. Imagine what it would look like if we recaptured that essence? What if we too disposed and repented of our racial, cultural, and national identities at baptism and allowed ourselves to truly take on a new identity in Christ?

It's no secret that, as Dr. Martin Luther King used to say, that Sunday morning is "the most segregated hour in this nation." Perhaps one reason for this is because the gospel we preach and baptize into falls short of the gospel and baptism of the New Testament. Central to the Bible's Gospel is the fact that Jesus is the fulfillment of the story of Israel, and that He is creating for Himself a new people drawn from every tongue, tribe, and nation.

Paul reiterates this Gospel truth in many of his writings, including when he writes in 1 Corinthians:

"For even as the body is one and yet has many members, and all the members of the body, though they are many, are one body, so also is Christ. For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, whether slaves or free, and we were all made to drink of one Spirit....But God has so composed the body, giving more abundant honor to that member which lacked, so that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it. Now you are Christ’s body, and individually members of it." (1 Cor. 12:12-13, 24-27)

Central to our baptism is the truth that all other identities are submerged beneath our identity in Christ. We are no longer defined by nationality, gender, race, language, or social status. We are all part of Christ. Perhaps if the Church in America could better grasp and preach this communal truth from both the pulpit and the baptismal, then maybe the Church could be the one to finally lead our country toward the racial equality and healing we so desperately need.

In the words of William Stringfellow, "The issue here [of racism] is not equality among human beings, but unity among human beings....The issue is baptism. The issue is the unity of all humanity wrought by God in the life and work of Christ. Baptism is the sacrament of that unity."

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Why Trump?

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I think I echo the sentiments of most Americans in saying I'm ready for this election to be over. But, we still have a few more weeks to go. So, I figured I'd address one aspect of my approach to this election cycle.

Typically, I try to avoid writing or posting things that overtly favor one party or the other. I personally consider myself a moderate and am registered as an Independent. Even when I have strong opinions about particular candidates, I usually try to avoid disclosing those opinions openly. This is especially true when bringing issues of faith into politics. I understand that many Christians have different opinions and that good people come down on both sides of the spectrum. As such, voicing my support or displeasure with specific candidates is usually not productive.

For instance, during the past 2 election cycles, I might have privately told someone who I favored if they happened to ask, but I did not go about promoting or attacking particular candidates on Facebook or my blog. I didn't have pro-Romney or pro-Obama posts in 2012 despite having a preference. I've never even gotten a yard sign or bumper sticker for a campaign because I don't feel people really need to know who I'm voting for.

However, anyone who has followed my posts over the past year know that I've gone against this personal rule in strongly advocating against Trump. Several have asked me why I have spoken so harshly against Trump. Well, I really have 2 main reasons for this.

1. Trump is a unique candidate, and one that poses a risk to our democratic system

Inevitably, some readers will say that it's not fair to attack Trump and give Hillary a free pass when "she's just as bad." A few thoughts here. First, the reason I focus almost exclusively on Trump relates to my audience. I grew up in a red state, went to college in a red state, and currently live in a red state. Most of my Facebook friends would identify as conservative Christians. As such, many of my friends and contacts are contemplating voting for Trump rather than Hillary. In fact, 65-70% of evangelicals still plan on voting for Trump.

It's not that I don't think Hillary has her problems (we could certainly talk about her lack of transparency, her overly pragmatic approach to politics, her desire for repealing the Hyde Amendment, etc.), but doing so would not accomplish much as many of the same Christians defending Trump go out of their way to slam Hillary. (I also find it a bit curious when people critique me for only going after Trump yet those same people don't call out other Christians who only go after Hillary). Needless to say, there's no need to preach to the choir about Hillary's faults, but there is a need to get people to admit the depth of Trump's faults.

Second, I really am not convinced it's fair to compare Trump and Hillary. It's like comparing apples and oranges (no comment on who is the orange). Truthfully, I don't see Hillary as fundamentally different from most presidential candidates that have come before. Most prior candidates have been opportunists, have lied to get votes, and have been involved in scandals. One difference is that she has been in public office for longer than most, giving more time for political scandals to come up and more time for the negative narratives and rumors of her opponents to take root.

Furthermore, much of the "Hillary-hate" and fear-mongering being floated out there consists of the exact same charges pronounced 8 years ago about Obama ("He's going to trash the economy," "He's going to take away all our guns," "Abortions will skyrocket," "He's going to declare open season on Christians," etc.). Yet, most of these fears never came to fruition. Some were simply false (the economy has recovered steadily, people own more guns than ever before, and abortions are at their lowest levels since Roe v. Wade). Many attacks also never came true because a President is not responsible for everything that happens in our country and is not all-powerful (for instance, they still have to work within the law and work with Congress). Needless to say, when I hear many of these same charges 8 years later I don't take them too seriously.

In short, I do think Clinton is a seriously flawed candidate, but I don't see her as "evil" or an existential threat to America or as something substantially different from countless candidates and Presidents before her.

However, I do view Trump as something different, and I don't simply mean that he's an outsider to politics (we've had those candidates before). I mean that the way he talks and behaves, the people he energizes, and the ideas he floats out there are dangerous. It's his boasting about sexual assault (and his supporters who incidentally support rape culture by defending him). It's the support he gets from groups like the KKK. It's the chilling ways in which he denounces free press and gets followers at his rallies to follow suit (I recently heard a Trump rally on the radio chanting "CNN sucks" and could not escape how eerily these chants resembled the chants of mobs following dictators throughout history.) It's how he feeds the masses' appetite for circumventing due process and promises to jail his political opponents like a third-world dictator if he wins. It's how he regularly spits upon democratic values and human rights. It's how he has claimed the military will obey his orders even when asked to do something illegal. It's how he talks about undermining a peaceful transition of power post-election and claims the election is rigged (but only when he is losing). And finally, it's how he normalizes lying and routinely creates his own reality when the facts are against him while a societal culture that also ignores facts and votes on pure emotion and rage.

These things truly do set him off in a league of his own, and it's a scary league. I've never felt a need to publicly denounce the political candidate I'm voting against, but Trump's gross immorality on multiple fronts, his lack of concern for Christian values, his ridiculous policy ideas, coupled with his disdain for democratic values and authoritarian tendencies simply cross the threshold where I feel a moral obligation to take a stand against him. Again, that's not to say other candidates are perfect or praiseworthy, but I see Trump as unique. I have still refrained from endorsing any other candidate or from publicly indicating who I am voting for (or if I'll vote at all), but I feel I must be public about my disapproval of this one campaign.

BUT...

2. My main concern is really with what Christian support for Trump says about the American Church

This is really my main reason for speaking out publicly. If it was just that Trump had gotten the Republican nomination, I may have had a few posts about him, but I might still largely stick to my public neutrality about political candidates. However, what has really concerned me about this candidate is the high number of Christians who have so willingly thrown their support behind him.

Before I go further on this point, it should be noted that I do make a distinction between core Trump supporters and those Christians who presently feel forced to vote for him (despite disliking him) simply because they are convinced "Hillary is worse" or because the fear of a liberal Supreme Court. I realize many Christians feel they have no other option. But, what really shocked me was how many Christians started supporting him back when there were other choices.

For instance, I posted this on Facebook over a year ago when the Republican primaries were still in their early stages:

https://www.facebook.com/micah.titterington/posts/803752807546

I felt free at that stage to comment on Trump because I thought for sure Republicans (and Christians) would reject such an immoral and outlandish choice. For me, it was more of a comment on a phenomenon than a comment on an actual, serious political candidate.

But I was wrong.

Now here we are, and to those Christians who were early Trump-supporters we have now added many more Christians who are reluctant supporters. Again, about 70% of white evangelicals still plan to vote for Trump (although it's interesting to note the number of pastors voting for Trump is significantly lower).

My concern with the vast Christian (and specifically white evangelical) support for Trump is three-fold.

First, it seems this support for Trump stems from several idols American Christians have served.

One such idol is political power. By confusing the Kingdom of God with the Kingdom of America, many American Christians have become concerned that losing power or influence in Washington is an abomination. We fear it and so we fight violently against it. I suspect this idol is at the heart of arguments over the need to get conservative Supreme Court justices. But since when has God needed a conservative Court or President to do His will in the world? For that matter, since when was God a conservative (or a liberal)? While we may prefer a certain ideology in the White House or in the Courts, the truth is God is bigger than any human ideology or philosophy. At some point we need to ask how much compromise on our Christian values is too much just for the sake of gaining worldly power and influence. Ironically, we when worship political power, it's then that the powers take advantage of us and offer us nothing meaningful in return.

Another idol we seem to have served is the marriage of the Republican party and platform with evangelical Christianity. For several decades now, religious conservatives and evangelicals have aligned themselves with the Republican party in an alliance known as "the Religious Right." This alliance has primarily centered on the key issues of abortion and sexual ethics, namely opposing same-sex marriage.

However, this alliance became too close-knit and resulted in evangelicals confusing "conservative values" with "biblical values." Suddenly, you have Christians advocating for politically conservative ideas and baptizing them as biblical. But when you step back, many of these conservative values really have no better biblical backing than their liberal counterparts.

Flash forward to today, and this marriage between the Republican party and white evangelicals is so strong that many evangelicals practically consider it heresy to even contemplate voting for a Democrat or liberal. To call another Christian a "liberal" is intended as an insult and to question their faithfulness. (I should note here that the same can also apply to progressive Christians attacking conservatives, although evangelicals have traditionally wedded themselves to Republicans). But as alluded to above, God is not a Republican or a Democrat. Both parties hold bits of the truth. Both conservatives and liberals have policies that resonate with what Jesus taught, and both have policies Christians should denounce. Christians should never be considered a "reliable voting block" for either party.

Yet since this marriage exists, many Christians, particularly middle-aged and older ones (as many Millennials evangelicals are eschewing this mentality), feel compelled to vote for Trump. They've been conditioned to believe that liberal values are anathema or a betrayal of their faith in a way that conservative values are not. They've been trained by years of voting Republican that to vote Democrat is to vote against their faith and that only a Republican ticket is able to carry a Christian platform. Likewise, the two-party system of American politics have persuaded them that to vote 3rd party or to abstain is to "waste a vote," or worse, to vote for the enemy. But when we buy into this idol of Republican ideologies, we allow American politics to co-opt and corrupt our faith.

One final idol I see is America itself, and perhaps even democracy itself. "Make America Great Again" has been the mantra of the Trump campaign, but one wonders at what expense? What are we willing to sacrifice to make America "great again"? Are we willing to treat other nationalities as second-class human beings (if that)? Are we willing to promote torture and war? The fact is that America is a great place to live, but she is not holy. She is not God's chosen nation or people. Even democracy itself, while certainly my preferred form of government, is not inerrant or divine. After all, I suspect we won't be voting on who should be King at the end of the age. We shouldn't idolize "making America great again" if it comes at the cost of making the Church sick again.

But thankfully, as one of my former professors, Myles Werntz, pointed out, our glorified image of America is being shattered by this election. We've witnessed how nasty people on both sides can be. We've seen how sometimes our electoral system fails us. We've watched as the masses nominated the two most unpopular candidates in modern history. And we've observed countless people, including many Christians, back the anti-democratic, authoritarian rhetoric of Trump. Even I have been shocked over the past year at how much we actually look like other troubled nations in the world. We might think we are above violence and giving into the voices of oppression, hatred, and authoritarianism, but we aren't.

However, as Werntz points out, this can actually be a good thing. For when our idols get smashed, we are more likely to turn to the real thing.

Second, I'm concerned about how support for Trump will create deeper divides within the Church.

Of course there are always divisions between Christians who disagree about policies and who to vote for. However, this is not my biggest concern. I hope that our friendships and faith are strong enough to overcome these partisan differences. I know a number of people that plan on voting for Trump next month, but I hope we are still able to speak after the election.

Rather, my concern relates to the diversity within the church and how Trump's campaign is decidedly anti-diversity. As Christians, our primary allegiance belongs to the Kingdom of God, which is a multi-national, multi-ethnic reality. As I've written about before, citizenship in God's Kingdom means I, as a Christian, may have more in common with an Iranian or Iraqi or Mexican than with my next-door neighbor. The blood of Christ is stronger than nationality.

Contrast that with Trump's nationalistic, exclusivist rhetoric. He has instilled fear of Mexicans and Arabs. He has insulted the black community. He has retweeted KKK leaders and been endorsed by KKK leaders. He promotes policies that treat non-Americans as less deserving of human rights and dignity. Furthermore, his speeches have incited the worst kind of violence and rhetoric from his most ardent followers.

Think about this in light of the broader Church. Although I mentioned earlier that many "Christians" are voting for Trump, it's really just white Christians who will be voting for Trump. When you ask Hispanic Christians or Black Protestants about Trump, most of them strongly oppose him. Let's widen that even further. How do you think our brothers and sisters in Mexico, or Syria, or China, or Iran feel about us voting for Trump? If the majority of world leaders (excluding tyrants like Putin) look down on and mock Trump, I doubt many foreign believers think highly of him.

The fact that Christian support for Trump is mostly a white phenomenon should give us pause. It's most certainly not because all other races or nationalities are idiots who can't see the light (such a response would most certainly be racist). Perhaps we white Christians should pay a bit more heed to our brothers and sisters of color.

In other words, a second reason I vocally oppose Trump is because I fear Christian support of his candidacy will imply that the Church is racist, or that only white Christians matter. As Christians, is this really the message that we want to send?

Third, I have concerns with support for Trump because of how it will (and is) impacting the Church's reputation

Several years ago, David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons published a book entitled UnChristian. In it they detailed how non-Christians in America predominantly described Christians in un-Christlike terms. Among the primary adjectives used were "judgmental," "antihomosexual," "hypocritical," and "too political." The Church already had an image problem long before this election.

Now certainly, we should not expect the world to always give us favorable reviews. Indeed, if the world is never critical we probably have a different problem. Jesus did tell us to expect persecution.

But at the same time, the early church was respected by outsiders for many things. Pagans didn't understand it and thought it was foolish, but they did admire Christian chastity. When plagues ravaged the Roman Empire and only Christians remained to help the sick, this drew admiration from non-believers, even if such actions were seen as suicidal and stupid. Or if we look at Jesus, his compassion and mercy drew large crowds. So while the Church will inevitably be misunderstood and opposed, the Church should be seen as attractive and praiseworthy by outsiders as well (1 Pet. 2:11-12).

One particular verse that has lodged in my brain this election cycle has been 1 Cor. 5:1. Here, Paul calls out the Corinthians for approving or ignoring an incestuous relationship in their midst. In response, Paul says this act is a double tragedy because it is an "immorality of such a kind as does not exist even among the Gentiles." It's one thing for Christians to sin, but it's especially egregious when that failing is recognized as evil by those who do not even know Christ.

This is what I see in our current election. Almost no one, Republican or Democrat, approves of the things Trump has said and done. Many of the things Trump has done or is alleged of doing (sexual assault, sexual harassment, racial discrimination, lying, defrauding workers, etc.) are things that even non-Christians almost universally condemn. And yet, we have many Christians willing to vote for this man, minimizing and ignoring these behaviors, and sometimes even arguing he is a "moral choice."

Here is my concern. When the Church weds itself to a political ideology and feel a duty to vote for that party's candidate, and when that candidate spews immorality from just about every pore of his being, how can the Church claim any moral authority? Look at some of the many hateful, disgusting, immoral things Trump has said that I've compiled; how can we vote FOR him? After all, we don't simply vote against a person, but are also voting for someone. The world looks at the church and laughs cynically:

"If you claim to be 'pro-life,' how can you support a candidate who never talks about abortion, is willing to kill the families of terrorists, approves of torture, and who will leave desperate refugees to rot and bleed to death?"

"If you claim to be for family values and against sexual sins, why do you endorse a sexually promiscuous candidate who has boasted of sexually assaulting women? You realize he once boasted about not taking care of his kids, right? The Church as pro-family values? Yeah right!"

"All your talk about morals, character, and righteousness is just a load of crap. All the church really cares about is political power."

"Did you see that another pastor endorsed and posed with Trump? Don't pastors usually preach on Sundays against everything Trump stands for?"

"Oh sure, you Christians say the Church is for everyone, but it definitely seems like the Church only cares about you if you're a white, middle class or wealthy American."

And on and on the inconsistencies come.

I've repeatedly asked pro-Trump Christians, "At what point does Trump become unacceptable? What moral failing makes him unelectable in your view?" Sadly, I have not heard a satisfactory answer here. If anyone answers, they usually just say: "If he were running against a different candidate," "If he changed his policy statements or Supreme Court promises," or "If he did what Hillary has done." But these are all lacking. They all point the finger elsewhere and ignore Trump's character. And for Christians, this should alarm us.

Again--and I can't stress this enough--I am NOT saying that rejecting Trump means voting for Hillary. I understand many Christians feel Hillary is also morally intolerable. However, there is no objective way to say that Trump is morally superior. Every single moral criticism of Clinton also sticks to Trump, and often with more force. If we must reject Clinton on moral grounds, then we better do the same with Trump, regardless of what he promises us. Anything less is hypocrisy. The faithful Christian response to facing two evils has always been to creatively and subversively choose a third option.

You can make an argument that engaging in politics will always involve some level of compromise (one reason why the Anabaptist tradition often eschews politics altogether), but at some point we must face the reality that too much compromise jeopardizes the identity and authority of the Church.

The current acquiescence of white evangelicals to American partisan politics is even more embarrassing given that Mormons (a tradition viewed as heretical in traditional Christian theology) seem poised to give an Independent candidate--Evan McMullin--the top vote in Utah. What's happening in Utah shows what politics can be when people of faith choose to stand up for their consciences against a system where they feel comfortable with neither side.

Sadly, it's a Christian heresy taking the moral high ground rather than evangelical Christians who are supposed to have a better concept of Jesus. Christians are called to a counter-cultural politic that challenges the politics of our society. We are to be committed first and foremost to faithfulness to God in all matters. If we feel neither major party represents our consciences and convictions, then the task is to create an alternative, not simply bow before the powers and hope for minimal damage.

But we have compromised and acquiesced. Polls have even come out showing that white evangelicals are MORE likely than non-religious voters to ignore and excuse immorality in political candidates. The facts are there. We are doing irreparable damage to the image and integrity of the Church. And this breaks my heart.

In summary, my concern is less a political one than a religious one. What happens after the election? If we sully our vote by marrying it to Trump and to a morally compromised Republican party (or Democratic party), what will that say about us as Christians and about the Church going forward? How will the world accept our preaching and teaching about morality and character if we sacrifice all that for the sake of political power and expediency? For me, I care a heck of a lot more for the Church than I do for my country because it's the Church, not the U.S.A, that's the bride of Christ.

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So there you have it. There's my confession. I hate feeling the need to post about Trump in this election year--and part of this compulsion is probably a weakness on my part--but I truly do see great harm in this candidacy that I cannot attribute to any other candidacy (Republican or Democrat) in my life. And while I have concerns about how irrational Trump-support can be and how Trump poses a likely threat to our country, the PRIMARY concern I have with Christians voting for or supporting Trump is the long-term damage it is doing to the Church.

I don't have a particular stake in either political party and I don't care who a person votes for beyond Trump, but I do feel an obligation to defend the Church. This is what Paul, Peter, and other apostles did. They called the Church to repent of her deficiencies and to "come out" of the world. It's a shame when the Bride of Christ blemishes herself with other lovers. And that is why I have been speaking out.

A Christian Politic- Part 1

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It's 2016--election year--and countless Christians have been weighing in with their opinions on candidates, policies, and the direction of our democracy for months now. So as this season draws to an end, I figured now would be a good time to offer my philosophy of politics. I try to avoid frequent political posts (although have made more recently since it's an election year), but the following explanation will detail how to understand my perspective when I do make political comments.

Before I explain where my political view comes from, I want to make a quick note about this post's title. I titled it "A Christian Politic," not "THE Christian Politic" because that is all this is--one possible philosophy. There are as many "Christian" approaches to politics as there are Christian denominations, and as much as I believe my perspective best adheres to a Jesus-centered, Bible-informed politic, I leave room for others to disagree and come to different conclusions. I won't claim any monopoly on the truth here.  This explanation will come in three parts (so come back for parts 2 and 3 over the next few days), but in this first post I want to outline the fundamental values of my political perspective.

The first thing that must be noted is that my political views are primarily formed by my faith. This is the foundation. My politics do not begin with a secular ideology (conservatism, libertarianism, progressivism, etc.), but are Christocentric in nature. In other words, you cannot understand my politics without understanding the core tenets of my faith. So, what are those core tenets within my theology?

While I could spend pages and pages trying to detail my theology, I'll try to limit this discussion to the most political of my theological concepts: the "Kingdom of God."  In recent years my faith has been profoundly shaped by the Bible's talk about the "Kingdom of God." This theological concept has radically redefined my ecclesiology, eschatology, and the very language of faith I use. In fact, it has redefined how I view the "Gospel" itself. I tend to follow Scot McKnight in arguing that the "Gospel" is not simply the "plan of salvation" that centers on the cross. Rather, the "Gospel" is the "good news" that God is reclaiming his Lordship over his creation and establishing his Kingdom on earth through the person of Jesus Christ (see McKnight's book "King Jesus Gospel" for a much more detailed explanation).

For those less familiar with this idea, what do I mean by the "Kingdom of God"? Simply put, the "Kingdom of God" refers to the reign of God. It is the space/time where heaven and earth are "married" together (to borrow language from NT Wright).  Or, to wrap this idea in the story of Scripture: God created a good world and ruled over it as King. Humanity was created as His image-bearers to carry out His will in His Kingdom. However, our sin marred this good creation and turned humanity into traitors. Since then, humanity has attempted to bring back this blissful state lost in the Fall, but without success. Israel was chosen as a "kingdom of priests," called to be a outpost declaring the Kingship of God to a fallen world, but they also failed. Jesus is the completion of this story. Jesus, as God, entered our world, preached "the Gospel of the Kingdom" (Lk. 4:43), and was declared King through His death, resurrection, and ascension. King Jesus has defeated sin and evil and has initiated the return of His Kingdom to earth. This Kingdom will be fully consummated one day in the future at Jesus' "appearing" (parousia).

Now all this talk about a "King" and a "Kingdom" is inherently political language and leads to the first major concept of my political view--my primary citizenship is not to America. This seems like quite a backward statement to make for an American political view, but there it is. As Paul succinctly puts it, "our citizenship is in heaven" (Phil. 3:20). This is one reason why I've recently begun to shy away from saying the American pledge of allegiance--it would be a lie for me to do so. To swear "allegiance" is to promise loyalty and devotion to something above all other things. But the truth is I've already sworn my allegiance to another Kingdom, and the values of this Kingdom and of my earthly country will eventually and frequently clash. Yes, I could swear my allegiance to America, but I would be doing so with the knowledge that a time will come when I will choose God's Kingdom over America. Do I love my nation? Yes, but not more than my Lord. Do I want to serve my nation and help it achieve greatness? Yes, but not if it's at the expense of God's Kingdom. I may be a citizen of both countries, but my allegiance can only lie with one.

This tenet of my political view has countless practical implications. Most notably, when I am considering candidates or policies, I am not looking for those options that will best benefit me, or even those that will improve America for America's sake. Rather, I am looking for the people and policies that best reflect the values of God's Kingdom and will help society to better reflect those values as well (more on this below). This does not mean I put my faith in government, nor am I looking for a "Christian nation," but these values nonetheless inform my political decision-making.

The next question becomes, "What are the values of God's Kingdom?" The answers to this question are probably what make my view unique in our current political climate. This question alone could be an entire book, and indeed such books have been written. But for my purposes here, perhaps the shortest way to sum up the Kingdom's values is to point to the two most important events in the Christian story--the Cross and the Resurrection. Let me explain these one at a time.

First, I believe the cross is more than simply a place where our sins were forgiven (although it is that too). The cross is also a powerful call to discipleship. Jesus makes this clear in His command to "take up your cross and follow Me" (Mark 8:34). I also see this mentality all throughout the writings of Paul, but he perhaps best sums up a cross-shaped discipleship in two places--1 Corinthians 1-3 and Philippians 2.

In the first chapters of 1 Corinthians, Paul critiques the Corinthians' tendency to create divisions and idolize certain teachers. To counter their unchristian behavior, Paul goes into a detailed discussion of how God's wisdom and power are revealed in the foolishness and weakness of the cross.  Jesus was ridiculed as foolish, weak, and shameful because of the cross, but we as Christians know that this place of failure was actually one of God's greatest successes. Paul then stresses that Christians ("little Christs") are a people of the cross. If Jesus found wisdom and power in the form of weakness, foolishness, and humility, then we shouldn't rely on worldly "strength" or "wisdom" either. Later in 1 Corinthians this attitude will lead Paul to say we should live by "love" and even be willing to sacrifice our rights for the sake of others. Philippians 2 similarly outlines how we are to have the "same mind" as Jesus. What did Jesus do? He "took the form of a servant" and "made himself nothing" by "becoming obedient" even to the point of death.

Now compare that to our culture and to typical American politics. The goal of our society is to gain more, become more powerful/influential, brag about your strengths, demand your rights, and defeat our enemies. We don't see humility as a strength among politicians. In fact, we condemn our representatives and candidates for "apologizing" for our country. We might talk of wanting politicians to "serve" our country, but what we really want is for them to lead us with power, strength, and might. These same mentalities have led to an extremely polarized political climate. We can't even listen to the other side or EVER admit that any of "their" ideas are good because just giving them the time of day is seen as a "compromise" of our "values." Humility and servanthood are weaknesses.

However, my political view is shaped by the cross. This means I start from a place of humility. I recognize I am no better than my political opponent because I am just as in need of grace as him or her. I also recognize that true strength and wisdom are not defined by the world. They are defined by God, and what God declares is powerful often looks like "weakness" to my culture. What God says is wise often looks "idiotic" or "naive" to onlookers. After all, who would believe that a poor man executed as a traitor could be crowned as King and overcome the evil powers of the world through that execution?

Thus, my cross-shaped politics lead me to seek certain policies and attitudes because I am convinced they are closer to what God's Kingdom looks like. For example, I want to discourage military force in national policy as much as possible not because of some liberal, "bleeding-heart" sentimentality, but rather because I've pledged my allegiance to a King who said "love your enemies" and who died for all people, including foreigners . Or, I am willing for our country to do more for illegal immigrants and refugees because I believe we can afford to suffer and pay a little for the sake of showing compassion to "the least of these." Or, I abstain as much as I can from personal attacks and try to give the person speaking the benefit of the doubt not because I am "wishy-washy" or lack convictions, but rather because a central conviction of mine is to be ruled by humility. These are not easy positions to hold, and they may not always work "practically," but the point is not whether they "work," but whether they are "right" in God's eyes.

The second key event that informs my doctrine of politics is the Resurrection of Jesus. The Resurrection is the pinnacle of Jesus' life on earth. It is the moment when heaven and earth collided in a visceral way. In the Resurrection, Jesus is vindicated as the King over the universe, and God's saving act of bringing heaven to earth is begun. In the Resurrection, the ancient enemy of Death is defeated as Jesus embodies the future of His redeemed world.

This impacts my political view in multiple ways. First, it reminds me that Jesus is my rightful master, and that He sits on the throne above the American kingdom. I sometimes hear Christians say, "At least we can take comfort knowing that Jesus is still on the throne." However, what bugs me about this comment is that people only really say it when something has gone wrong for them: "Well, we didn't get our candidate into office, but at least Jesus is still King." "The government just passed another stupid law, but we know Jesus is still on the throne." It's kind of sad, really. We seem to turn Jesus' eternal Lordship into a personal coping mechanism.

But if we take seriously that Jesus has overcome evil, defeated death, guaranteed that our bodies will also be raised, and promised to bring heaven to earth, then how can Jesus' Kingship not impact us every day of the year?! For me, the knowledge that Jesus reigns drives me to action. If Jesus' Kingdom has broken into our world by way of His life, death, resurrection, and ascension, then my citizenship in that Kingdom means my church and I are "colonies" of that Kingdom. Whether things are going well or poorly, I work to make my world look more like God's as we wait for His appearing.

The Resurrection also informs my politics by giving me hope and security. One of the discouraging things I see in the current presidential race is how often people are driven by fear and anger. However, if I truly believe that Jesus is on the throne, then I have no reason to fear, even when evil seems to run rampant in my world. I also realize that "perfect love drives out fear" (1 Jn. 4:18) because Jesus is alive as King. Even if there are physical or existential threats to my existence, Jesus taught me not to fear those who can destroy the body but not the soul (Mt. 10:28).

So, where does all this leave me? I've certainly given many theological thoughts, but you might be wondering about how all this applies to politics. For starters, I do not believe there should be a wide chasm between theology and politics. I can't compartmentalize my faith (that's the topic of tomorrow's post). It should inform every aspect of my being, including my political side. Now, I may or may not use Christian language in public discourse, and I am certainly not looking to create a theocracy, but my faith cannot be divorced from my politics.

Therefore, when it comes to applying my faith to the political realm, what I try to seek is an approach that transcends parties and ideologies. To return to a theme I mentioned above, I strive after "Kingdom politics." If you ask me if I'm a Republican or Democrat, I will say neither because both sides have their strengths, and both certainly have their weaknesses. My political perspective does not neatly fit into either category.

For example, I consider myself "pro-life" in the sense that I despise abortion and would love to see it end. This tends to line up more with those on the Right (although I have some major differences with many on the Right when it comes to abortion as well). Likewise, I oppose "right-to-die" measures on the same grounds, like many conservatives. On the other hand, I also strongly support care for the poor and ending the death penalty because I am "pro-life." This tends to line up better with liberal platforms. My "pro-life" conviction is derived from my faith, and my faith teaches me that all life has dignity, whether it is in the womb or whether it has sinned beyond what we humans think we can forgive. I must be "pro-life" regarding all life, not just life in the first 9 months.

I personally still believe homosexuality is a sin (like many on the Right), but I also believe gay marriage should be legal (agreeing with those on the Left) since state/civil marriage is fundamentally different than religious marriage. And while some fellow Christians might critique me on this issue or claim I am just "watering down" a "Christian" message or "capitulating to the culture," my reasons for these political beliefs actually have a well-thought out rationale rooted in my faith (check out my thoughts here for a more in depth analysis).

I agree with conservatives that government should be limited, including on the topic of healthcare, but I appreciate Democrats and Obamacare for attempting to make healthcare more accessible to Americans, and particularly to the poor. Both positions come out of my faith which teaches me to recognize the limits and risks of earthly power but also bombards me with countless Scripture verses about caring for the poor and marginalized.

I greatly appreciate the Constitution of the United States and believe it is a crucial document for maintaining freedom in our country, but I would also be willing to go against the Constitution and be called a traitor if that's what it took to follow Jesus. The life of my King is more binding than any human-made document.

When it comes to topics like immigration or terrorism or gun-control, these too are topics that I do not approach as a conservative or liberal. Rather, in each situation I look back to Jesus and seek guidance from His example. I also consider research and science, but the story of Jesus serves as my compass (this will be the subject of Part 3 of this blog series). Sometimes this might mean I agree with liberals, other times I might agree with conservatives. More often than not, it probably means I fall somewhere in the middle.

So there you have it, or at least part of it. Of course my political views are much more nuanced than I can put in a single blog post, but I hope they are counter-cultural. Indeed, even that admission of complexity runs counter to our culture of sound-bytes and stereotypes (this week's Presidential "debate" is a perfect example of the dumbing-down of America's political rhetoric). It's easy to shout down a caricature or denounce a sound byte. But to listen to another person and actually understand all the nuances of their beliefs is difficult. It takes time.

So next time I make a "political" comment, please don't assume you understand where I am coming from unless you are willing to have a lengthy conversation about my religious motivations. You're welcome to disagree with me, but don't try convincing me I'm wrong unless you tie your perspective into your faith as well. And please, please don't stoop down to simplistic, polarized, partisan assumptions and attacks. You might try to accuse me of being a "bleeding-heart liberal" or a "narrow-minded conservative," but you'd likely be wrong. You can certainly feel strongly about your position, but understand that I also feel strongly about mine and that I have spent a great deal of time coming to my conclusions.

As I wrap up, I want to make two requests of you this election season if you are a Christian. First, try evaluating your political convictions in light of your religious convictions. And don't just stop at the tired, old issues--abortion, religious freedom, same-sex marriage, etc. Rather, re-examine ALL the issues. What does your faith have to say about gun-control, the death penalty, war and diplomacy, poverty, economics,  immigration, and other topics? I won't demand you come to the same conclusions as me, but I will ask that you at least ask the question.

The last request is to maintain civility and an open-mind during this election season. It's too easy to follow the siren-call of anger, personal attacks, and stereotypes, but these do nothing to advance truth. They only make everyone angry. If you really do care for our country and really do care about the truth, then perhaps the best thing you can do is shut up and listen to perspectives which differ from yours. You can't judge a position unless you thoroughly understand it, and you'll never understand it if you never truly listen to it. You never know, you may have to change your views. Maybe you'll even agree with me...

(Want to keep reading? Check out Part 2 and Part 3 of this series.)

Faith and Economy

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This past week a study was released that estimated the economic impact of religion on the U.S. economy. The study concluded that the annual revenues of faith-based organizations totaled more than $378 Billion each year, making religion a bigger business than Facebook, Google, and Apple combined! If you read the actual study, you'll also see that the number could even be as high as $4 TRILLION, or nearly one quarter of America's GDP as the good folks over at Get Religion noted. Those are massive numbers!

While listening to NPR yesterday, one of the segments referred to this study. Since the study included organizations as varied as church congregations, social service agencies, and charities, the radio hosts asked the audience if they give to faith-based organizations. The responses were quite eye-opening.

Many (in fact most) of the callers I heard stated they did NOT give to churches or faith-based charities. The reasons given were several: Churches spend too much on themselves; faith-based charities don't offer anything non-faith based charities don't; I want to pay to help people, not to have someone preach; not enough money actually gets to people in need; there's not enough oversight or transparency. I was struck by the repeated cynicism.

However, my shock was likely due to the fact that I live within Christian circles. I have grown up around and worked with many Christian institutions that have done amazing good in communities. But perhaps these responses to the radio question reveal that much of our society does not automatically share that assumption. What do we do with this? What do we take away?

First, it would be rash to simply dismiss the criticisms. We could easily point to the fact that these faith-based charities have helped millions of lives. Or we could point to the largest faith-based sector--healthcare. An estimated 1 in 6 hospital beds in our country belong to a Catholic health system. One response to point out that religion both boosts the economy and helps millions of lives. However, maybe we should approach these criticisms with a bit more humility. Is there any truth to their concerns?

I think many of the concerns I heard on the radio were valid. When it comes to faith-based charities, I think many Christians will blindly give because an organization claims to be "Christian" without doing enough research into how effective the charity actually is. There may indeed be secular organizations that are run more effectively and have better research to support their methods, but sadly many Christians will give money to the one with the "Christian" name.

The same applies to media and entertainment. A "Christian" movie with sub-par plot and production values will be released and Christians will dump their wallets for it because it has a "Christian message." Or we will choose to donate money to Christian radio stations in order to hear more overly-produced, shallow theology, lacking-creativity songs, rather than donate to a public radio station that often prizes journalistic integrity and meaningful, original discussion.

The correlation between religion and money should give us pause, particularly when we see these tendencies among Christians. It is far too easy for Christians to be duped into a shallow commercialism as a substitute for our faith. Greed among both Christians themselves and those marketing to Christians is too strong a temptation. Yes religion is big business, but maybe it shouldn't be quite as big.

Second, we need to listen to the hesitations about giving to faith-based institutions when it comes to local congregations. After faith-based health care, one of the next largest economic segments was individual church congregations. Americans give nearly $75 billion per year to individual churches and religious congregations. In listening to the comments on the radio, this was the type of giving about which people seemed to have the greatest reservations.

But, truth-be-told, I too have big reservations in this area. It's no secret that the majority of the budget for most congregations is spent on the building and grounds. Whether it's a small, dying church overpaying to maintain an aging building, or a megachurch dropping millions for a new state-of-the-art facility complete with stage lights, smoke machines, and a coffee bar, the mentality is the same. I find this a particularly uncomfortable position when I read passages in Scripture, such as Acts 7 where Stephen is killed for challenging the idea that God can be contained to a physical building.

For years churches have assumed that people would give money to them. Or, when giving has waned, we have relied on a good sermon on "tithing" to guilt people into giving. However, those days may be fading fast. If congregations want people to give money, particularly younger people like myself, they will need to re-evaluate how they are spending that money. If congregations continue to spend the vast majority of their budgets on buildings, salaries, and internal programs rather than on ministry to their community, it will be harder and harder to justify the morality of such giving to its members or to the world.

Third, the criticisms of faith-based giving should illuminate a false assumption the church has helped promote. In listening to the various comments on the radio, there was a latent assumption in many of them that faith-based work was somehow inferior to government or secular social services. Embedded within this assumption is the belief that faith-based groups and congregations are primarily focused on "the spiritual." "Yes, churches may give back to their community, but that's not their primary calling," or so the thinking goes.

But churches have also unwittingly pushed this belief. By taming the Gospel down to a mere mental agreement with a set of propositions ("I'm a sinner"--"Jesus died for me"--"If I believe in Him I can go to heaven"), and by reducing our eschatology to an escape to a non-physical dimension called "heaven" we have set up the narrative that the church (and anything relating to faith) is only secondarily concerned with the physical world and with societal concerns. We reason: If it doesn't relate to something "spiritual" or pertain to saving a person's soul, then it doesn't matter.

This is a gross misunderstanding of the Gospel Jesus preached. The Gospel Jesus preached is not about getting into a spiritual realm called heaven; it is about declaring a new allegiance to a Lord and a Kingdom that challenge the empires and powers of the world. A proper understanding of the Gospel should teach us that faith is as much about physical manifestations of grace, mercy, and forgiveness in the world as it is about the personal, inner manifestations of those dynamics of those things. If the church itself could recapture this Kingdom vision of the Gospel, then perhaps the world around us would be less likely to believe the false division between faith, spirituality, and work in the real world.

Finally, this study and the resulting comments should prompt the us to remember religion's broad impact upon society. Our faith not only impacts people's lives in a personal, inward manner, but it has also profoundly shaped our culture for the better. If it were not for religion, there would be far fewer hospitals in our country. If it weren't for the role of faith, countless additional Americans would go hungry and be homeless each year. If it weren't for people and organizations of faith, many orphans and refugees would not be alive today.

The cynicism I heard on the radio tended to too quickly dismiss the massive force of this positive impact. But I can't help but wonder if it's because we as Christians have also neglected this aspect of our faith. As mentioned in my previous point, we have relegated faith to the realm of the personal and metaphysical. Studies like this one should remind us that there is so much more to our faith than that. It should inspire us to continue the work of social justice and compassion for our neighbors. It should drive us to become even more creative within our culture. We can't force outsiders to our faith to accept the positive role of religion in society, but we can live out our faith in such a way that it makes it impossible to ignore this positive impact.

In summary, this study should cause people of faith to both be thankful and to practice introspection. We may be thankful that our faiths have contributed so much good to society. However, we should also take a hard look at our practices and use of money to see when the criticisms of outsiders may in fact be warranted. To do any less would be to forsake our calling in the world.

"To the flag..."

I remember attending Vacation Bible School as a kid and reciting the 3 core pledges good Christian kids were supposed to learn. Remembering these pledges wasn't a problem for me because I also knew them from Wednesday night children's activities at my church. These pledges were the Pledge to the American flag, the pledge to the Christian flag, and the pledge to the Bible (in that order).

Recently I found myself thinking back to those pledges, and in particular to the Christian flag itself. I was driving to work last week and saw a flag pole with both the American and Texas flags flying on it. Of course, in accordance to the US Flag Code, the American flag was flying above the Texas flag. Yet for some reason, I found myself thinking about the Christian flag instead of the Texas flag. In particular, I began thinking about how the Christian flag is (and is not) flown next to the American flag. This also got me wondering about the history of the Christian flag. How did it come about? So, I did a little research.

The Christian flag was developed in America. This should come as no surprise given the color scheme. It was first proposed in 1897 by Charles C. Overton in New York. Overton was selected to fill in as teacher when the guest speaker for his church's Sunday School hour failed to show up. Looking at the American flag, he began to talk about flags and symbolism. At some point in his lesson, he suggested it would be a good idea to have a flag to represent all Christians. Apparently this idea stuck in his mind as he designed such a flag and presented it the following week. By 1907, Overton had partnered with Ralph Diffendorfer, secretary to the Methodist Young People's Missionary Movement, to promote his creation. Within a few years, Methodist pastor Lynn Harold Hough had written the first pledge to the Christian flag. The flag and pledge gained such popularity within churches that they continue to be used today.

One of the interesting conundrums that the creation of this flag has posed, though, is how to fly it in relation to the American flag. As noted above, the US Flag Code states, "No other flag or pennant should be placed above or, if on the same level, to the right of the flag of the United States of America." Exceptions are not even made for the U.N. flag or for other "international" flags:

"No person shall display the flag of the United Nations or any other national or international flag equal, above, or in a position of superior prominence or honor to, or in place of, the flag of the United States at any place within the United States or any Territory or possession thereof."1

 However, many Christians have not felt comfortable flying the American flag above the Christian flag. To do so seems to be saying that America is more important than God's Kingdom, and surely that isn't right. At the same time, most Christians also feel very uncomfortable placing the American flag in the secondary position. To illustrate my point, take a look at the following photo:

What was your gut reaction? If you consider yourself patriotic to any degree, there was probably a part of you that thought, "Wait, the stars and stripes should be at the top!"

And the truth is, most Americans agree. In fact, the above is not even a real photo. I could not find a picture on Google with the Christian flag flying above the American flag. I had to Photoshop this picture. The closest you ever find to the above picture are the two flags standing side-by-side at equal height. (The exception to this is on naval ships where sailors are allowed to fly a church pennant above the American flag to signal that the ship is currently holding chapel services. But this a different flag and is probably more to signal to other ships that the crew is not in combat mode and should not be fired upon according to the Geneva Convention.)

The side-by-side solution has become normative. We set both flags in stands of equal height in the sanctuary (the side each flag gets may depend on the particular congregation). At VBS we say BOTH the pledge to the American flag and the pledge to the Christian flag. Churches will invest in a second flag pole to fly the flags side by side (or they will just refrain from flying the Christian flag). We want to say, "Yes, we are fully American, and we are fully Christian."

But the great problem of all of this is that sometimes being an American butts up against being a Christian. Indeed, in recent years I've wondered about the language of our pledges. It seems increasingly odd to pledge one's "allegiance" to one government, and then pledge your "allegiance" to another Kingdom in the next breath. Yes there is such a thing as dual-citizenship, but eventually that breaks down.

I have several relatives who were born oversees in England, Spain, and Germany. I myself was almost born in Germany. And yet, since the parents were American citizens, my relatives became dual citizens. But, dual citizens eventually have to choose. After a certain amount of time, many countries will revoke your citizenship if you fail to live there, or they will make you choose which citizenship you want to use. Even if you are allowed to retain both citizenships, if the two countries ever came into conflict, you would have to choose a side. If the two countries went to war, you can't serve both militaries without being called a traitor in both places.

The word "allegiance" means "loyalty," "devotion," or "obligation." When we pledge "allegiance," we are vowing to give our complete loyalty.  Is it possible to promise your complete allegiance to two different entities and governments? I seem to remember someone once warning against trying to "serve two masters." And the uncomfortable truth is that the Kingdom of God (and yes, "Kingdom" is a political word) often clashes with the Kingdom of America. When push comes to shove, where will our allegiance be?

At the end of the day, I'm not particularly fond of the Christian flag anyway. Personally, if we are going to have a flag to represent the Kingdom of God I'd like to see something a lot more stylish. Maybe a lion or a lamb, or a crown or something. Or at least pick some different colors besides red, white, and blue. But, that's neither here nor there. My point is that we already have a plethora of symbols for God's Kingdom. Whenever we break the bread and drink the wine we are reminded of the dynamics of God's Kingdom. The gathered Body of Christ is a signpost of this truth. Whenever we gather together as the church, we proclaim that we belong to God's Kingdom, not primarily to the Kingdom of America. Our everyday mission and ministry should also be a testimony of our heavenly citizenship.

But I do appreciate the Christian flag for at least one reason--it (should) force us to think about allegiances, citizenship, and treason. It places the conflict of Kingdoms onto symbolic cloths for our eyes to wrestle with. It demands we have uncomfortable discussions about how our culture and government impact us and sometimes blind us to the commands of God.

How do you fly these two flags together? American on top, Christian on top, side-by-side, no Christian, no American, no flags at all? I can't answer that for you. However, one thing the Bible does make abundantly clear is that our primary calling as Christians is to God and His Kingdom--a Kingdom that transcends national boundaries and binds Americans, Iraqis, Israelis, Russians, Chinese, Mexicans, and countless others together. That is where my citizenship lies.

" For, as I have often told you before and now tell you again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven." Phil. 3:18-20a