Growing up with Focus on the Family, Adventures in Odyssey and other conservative Christian media as the soundtrack to my childhood has left me with bizarre and confusing memories—some of which I am still working out in therapy.
On one hand, the music and stories fostered learning, imagination and a special family routine. On the other hand, it primed me for a faith that adhered to conservative religion and politics. It’s confusing, to say the least.
But what is not confusing is how unsurprised I am at the rise of Christian Nationalism.
On January 6th, as the U.S. Capitol was being attacked, I called a close friend. I was numb and angry, betrayed by people I had grown up with who claimed to love the Constitution in its most literal form as much as they loved the Bible. And yet, I told my friend: none of this surprised me.
I was raised on stories where the non-Christian government was the enemy, out to get the Church and her believers. I heard radio announcers and preachers talk about “taking the government back for God.” As a child, I was made to be terrified of the disastrous consequences that would occur if America did not repent and become a Christian nation again.
So although January 6th was horrendous, it made perfect sense to me.
This weekend, we watched as Saturday’s incredibly successful No-Kings Day protests took place while the presidential parade was almost rained out and far from packed.
Meanwhile, Vance Luther Boelter assassinated former Minnesota House Speaker Melissa Hortman and her husband, Mark. Boelter has also been charged with shooting Democratic state Sen. John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette. Recent reporting has revealed that Boelter was a conservative evangelical who had preached in the Congo about the moral decay of America, with a focus on anti-abortion issues.
While tragic, I am still not surprised. Decades of “us versus them” language instilling fear in conservative Christians have empowered them with dangerous rhetoric, creating situations rife for violence.
We still don’t know all of Boelter’s motives. Still, as people of faith, we must become sensitive to and responsible for the ways we talk, teach and preach.
For many of us, discussing politics in the church remains taboo, constrained by a complex mix of privilege, concerns about attendance and finances, and respect for others’ beliefs. But since Christian Nationalism has contributed to fear, ongoing violence, and empowerment of the Trump Administration, our faith communities also have a responsibility to provide more peaceful and resilient models that follow the footsteps of Jesus, not the political agendas of the Religious Right.
How can we combat Christian Nationalism in our congregations, especially if they remain politically ambiguous? Our faith already provides us with incredible language to guide people through fear and divisiveness.
Teaching people how to identify “us versus them” language, with a focus on Jesus’ vision for the inclusive Kingdom of God, may help strengthen media literacy and help identify fear-mongering tactics.
We can use the biblical teachings of beating swords into plowshares and Jesus’s final act of nonviolence to remind congregations that, while reality and politics are messy, we must find ways to endeavor towards a world of peace.
We can lean into the powerful language and image of the Scapegoat, which originated as an Old Testament atonement offering but was then reimagined in the New Testament when the crowd’s fear and hatred concluded in violence, casting Jesus as the ultimate scapegoat. Here, not only does Jesus’ work on the cross offer eternal salvation, but also new eyes to help us see where our fear and hatred will always take us. This language can begin to help members identify when administrations or media are scapegoating a people group, and help us learn to divest from systems of hatred and violence.
Teaching the biblical and ancient stories of scapegoating, especially in the gospel where Jesus is the recipient of violence as the ultimate scapegoat, may help members think more critically when an administration demonizes marginalized people.
Pastors and teachers should refrain from using other religions as sermon and lesson illustrations. We have enough to critique within our own spiritual homes without viewing different religions as a problem.
As the Fourth of July approaches, we can try to balance the recognition of service members in our congregations while keeping nationalistic themes and hymns to a minimum. Perhaps it is time to move the American flag out of our sanctuaries, not out of disrespect, but because, even though we are Americans, our most important allegiance is to Christ.
We can review our church’s expenses to ensure our money goes to media organizations that are not supporting the advancement of Christian Nationalism. Even the simple but profound act of diversity and representation can help support our members as they work towards a more profound faith system.
This includes more than just who is invited to the pulpit. Is there diversity in terms of race, gender, sexual orientation, ability/disability and age among the authors and characters in our books, curriculum or in the videos being shown? If not, how can we begin to create more robust libraries and curriculum resources? Can we buy our materials from ethical and moral companies, instead of those that enrich billionaires and Christian Nationalists?
Undoing years of damage caused by the Religious Right to our country and churches will take time, dedication, accountability, bravery and effort.
Most importantly, it will take kindness. It will take Jesus-inspired kindness and humility to help our brothers and sisters of faith out of the fear that inspires allegiance to Christian Nationalism and Trumpism.
Because I have been there, and it really is terrifying.
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Erin is a current student at Campbell Divinity School, attending night classes for the Master of Arts in Christian Ministry. During the day, she participates in the holy work of teaching public school teenagers how to cook as a Family and Consumer Science teacher (formally known as Home Economics). A self-proclaimed Jack of all trades, Erin dabbles in an array of hobbies when school allows, including knitting, crocheting, spinning yarn, sewing, gardening, reading, writing, and, of course, cooking.
