3 minute read
Many American Christians feel their way of life is being threatened. It doesn’t matter whether this perspective has a factual basis or not. The feeling is real. What’s important to recognize, at least initially, is there’s a palpable insecurity driving their opposition to a slew of contrary worldviews: the Far Left, secular humanism, socialism, feminism, globalism, relativism, Islam, progressive academia, and the LGBTQIA+ movement. From their perspective, the Judeo-Christian values on which the U.S. was founded are being dangerously displaced and insidiously replaced.1
I can understand and empathize with that perspective quite well because that was my worldview growing up. Nevertheless, I disagree. Adamantly. To my mind, it’s the social psychological process of the last flickering embers of Christendom fading out. It’s not merely the loss of wealth, power, and influence in our Western society, but no longer being at the cultural center as the privileged default. Because the Church is no longer at the center, they feel that they’re being marginalized or even persecuted. I don’t buy the line that perception is reality, but that is their perception.
From personal experience, it takes a tectonic shift in worldview to understand the Church is neither at the center of the culture nor at its marginalized periphery, but has instead become like an octopus leg as just one of the many institutions propelling the culture forward. In other words, the Church has gone from the gravitational center of public life to one of the significant influences.2 It’s still a source of movement and identity, but it’s now one of many.3 The American Church now occupies a space between the polarities of dominance and subjugation.
Unfortunately, that understanding requires a level of critical reflection and introspection that many cannot or will not attain.4 There are times I feel hopeless about that. All I know to do is to keep pointing back to The Way of Jesus, which is all about radical love. Our King commanded us to love one another, including our enemies.5 Apologies for the Captain Obvious insight, but apparently it needs to be said: we cannot love who we hate, be gracious toward who we resent, and serve who we endeavor to destroy. Following Jesus means being all-in on love for everyone.
The original beatniks were well ahead of their time in overcoming the rampant prejudices of their day. Sexism, racism, and homophobia being particularly apt examples from the 1950s. Dare I suggest it’s because the Beats usually chose curiosity over anger, openness over insecurity, grace over resentment, and love over fear?6 We can, too. If the (largely) non-Christian Beat Generation did that, how much more should professing Jesus followers choose The Way of love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control?
They feel it’s an existential crisis.↩
It still has a voice, but it’s not longer the voice.↩
For whatever it’s worth, this situation does not depress me. Quite the opposite! As a student of history and theology, I believe this is a golden opportunity. Christendom has little to do with Christ; Christendom is basically the opposite of the Kingdom of God. After 1,500 years, the Church finally has an opportunity to act like Jesus followers again. I for one couldn’t be more excited. The Bride of Christ is at her best and healthiest when she’s prophetically subverting empire, not mating with it.↩
It’s much easier to lean into a spirit of fearful populism, defensive anti-intellectualism, and angry pietism as soldiers fighting the culture wars.↩
Many people now seem to think that’s a nice ideal and all, but in the present circumstances the consequences are too dire for that. I’d remind them that Jesus lived under brutal Roman occupation and was crucified for it. If it applied then, it applies now.↩
Here’s a quote from Allen Ginsberg’s famous 1956 poem, Howl:
“The weight of the world is love.
Under the burden of solitude,
under the burden of dissatisfaction the weight,
the weight we carry is love.↩
