A man driving with a car radio playing.
Stock Photo (Credit: Marilia Casteli/Unsplash/https://tinyurl.com/yc4vsdnb)

 

My usually stoic church secretary wept as she explained, “I was listening to [a preacher] on the radio. He said you can’t believe in evolution and be a Christian. My [adult] son believes in evolution. Do you think he’s not a Christian because of that?”

With crescendoing sarcasm, I replied, “Well, when the thief on the cross asked Jesus to remember him in paradise, in the original Aramaic, Jesus replied, ‘Let’s see here. Do you believe in a literal six-day creation that happened about 4,000 years ago? …‘Do you believe my mother was a virgin?’ Jesus kept going and going, and after the thief affirmed each item, then Jesus said, ‘Ok, then. Today you will be with me in paradise.’ SOooo, Jane: if your son doesn’t believe all those things, I guess he’s toast.”

Jane thoughtfully nodded. I said, “You don’t have to listen to that guy’s sermons. There are other radio stations. Hit seek.”

Twenty-five years later, a new adulterating litmus test for “genuine” Christianity has emerged. 

Someone recently forwarded me a church newsletter with a prayer request for a professor at a state university. It said that, “in the wake of Charlie Kirk’s death [the professor] has become more bold in his witness. He recently challenged a fellow professor online who was critical of Charlie and made light of the assassination…pray that [he] will remain bold in his Truth-telling.” 

We can agree it’s appropriate to challenge anyone who makes light of an assassination. However, notice how closely this message ties sharing the gospel with aligning oneself with Charlie Kirk.

Then I saw a social media post in which the writer sought to express their ideas about Charlie Kirk and their faith in Christ. Anyone who disagreed was asked not to comment. The person then asked why non-Christians mocked Christians. (Of course, if non-Christians respected the request not to object, they couldn’t answer.) 

Given the post’s photo of Kirk—not Jesus—it seemed like the mocking they were referring to was any criticism of Kirk. One of the post’s many commenters suggested ignoring the critics because “the lost act lost.”

One reading of the thread would imply the behavior of the “lost” was from those who mock Christians. However, the context of the post again connected the Christian faith with supporting Charlie Kirk.

Linking affirmation of Kirk to faith in Christ goes like this: “Kirk was the kind of Christian I like; I am a Christian; therefore, if people reject Kirk, they reject Christianity.”

There are strong feelings that either endear people to Kirk or feed their disgust for his message and methods. We are all at risk of confusing emotions with truth.

Late in college, I set a goal of graduating with honors. I narrowly missed the goal. The week after graduation, I dejectedly told my mentor that scripture says to do everything like we’re doing it for God. I had failed to do my best, so I had failed God.

My mentor said, “You barely missed a goal. Now you’re sad about it. But you’re putting a spiritual interpretation on an emotional problem. You’re not a bad person; you’re a sad person.”

I see many in the body of Christ putting a spiritual interpretation on their emotions about Kirk’s message and his horrific death. It concerns me how this enmeshment of Kirk to the gospel impacts non-Christians’ perception of Christian faith.

I wonder what to do about it. An overly simplistic application of the “let them” craze might suggest ignoring the drive to Christian nationalism. But Jesus didn’t observe abuse of power in the name of religion and “let them.” 

I’ve been prolific in sharing my own objections to much of Kirk’s words, style and political goals. It appears it would be easier to convince the tide to stop washing onto a beach than to convince Kirk’s supporters of how his behavior, which felt good to them, hurt others.

People ask me why I confront MAGA ideology. My response has two parts. 

First, silence communicates consent. Second, people are watching, and research indicates that objections to groupthink help lessen its impact.

The question to consider is whether our approach to objecting to Christian nationalism is helpful or hurtful.

That brings us to the most elegantly simple litmus test we have: What would Jesus do? What he did was call the scribes and Pharisees vipers while he cared for the needs of those the religious hierarchy was ignoring or exploiting.

A Black minister-professor and I recently discussed the union of American politics and Christianity. My colleague said, “Yeah, Jesus hasn’t been in the picture for a long time.” 

It’s time we all hit seek.