Many have pointed out the deep problems in the faith of American Christians, especially its accommodating complacency, which has resulted in the disinterest of younger generations. Prophets keep watch from the periphery and in subcommunities of resistance, which are not to be confused with churches. Because far too many subscribe to “imperial religion,” continue to speak the language of empire and do its bidding.
There is a quote floating around on social media that resolves, “Rather than putting ‘Christ’ back in ‘Christmas,’ I’d settle for putting ‘Christ’ back in ‘Christian.’ This request makes obvious how far behind some Christians are in following in the footsteps of Jesus.
To ensure we are not in lockstep with Caesar, Walter Brueggemann teaches us in “The Prophetic Imagination” through the lens of Solomon’s rulership about the elements of the “royal consciousness.” The royal program is marked by— the economics of affluence, the politics of oppression, and static religion.
Brueggemann said the third foundational element is “the establishment of a controlled, static religion in which God and (God’s) temple have become part of the royal landscape, in which the sovereignty of God is fully subordinated to the purpose of the king.”
He wrote later, “God is now ‘on call,’ and access to (God) is controlled by the royal court. Such an arrangement clearly serves two interlocking functions. On the one hand, it assures ready sanction to every notion of the king because there can be no transcendent resistance or protest.” Brueggemann continued, “On the other hand, it gives the king a monopoly so that no marginal person may approach this God except on the king’s terms.”
“In the year of our Lord” two thousand and twenty-four, many Americans are hunkering down in preparation for a second Trump administration and a president who wants to be a king—after being found guilty of 39 felony counts and liable for sexual abuse, after he has said every offensive thing that comes to his mind only to remind us of the underlying mediocrity and insecurity of white supremacy.
Many understand what they are up against after Trump was propped up by socially colored white evangelical Christians, who traded freedom for “law and order,” justice for security, love of neighbor for their standard of living and the upkeep and maintenance of the white supremacist reality.
But I am once more and again not surprised by any of this. Neither are students of history.
What a difference an election cycle makes. Or is it merely rinse and repeat, that is white supremacy coming clean?
This has been the election result since the 1960s. So, I just call it like I see it.
Since the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which prevented racial discrimination from continuing as part of the voting process and African Americans were given the right to participate in this experimental democracy, the Democratic Party has not received the majority of the socially colored white vote. Backlash or an unwillingness to bury the hatchet, white supremacy remains unchanged and undeterred.
Either way, it is even more evident to a new generation and blatantly obvious to an older one that a large swath of baptized believers are carrying water for the North American empire.
What then of H. Richard Niebuhr’s views of “Christ against culture,” “Christ of culture,” “Christ above culture,” or “Christ as the transformer of culture”?
It mattered not how Jesus related to the culture or how Christians choose to live out their faith in Jesus as it relates to the culture surrounding them. The North American church’s stated missiology is of no use as the end goal is white supremacy, that is, socially colored white people dominating everything.
John W. Compton points out in “The End of Empathy: Why White Protestants Stopped Loving Their Neighbors”: Seemingly every day, a new poll finds white evangelicals—by far the largest subset of American Protestants—espousing views that would appear difficult to reconcile with the golden rule. For example, (white) evangelicals are more likely than other members of other religious groups to favor drastic cuts to foreign aid and domestic social welfare programs.”
He continued, “They are less likely than other believers—or nonbelievers, for that matter—to say that the United States has a duty to accept refugees displaced by violence or natural disasters in their home countries. They are more likely than others to favor sharp reductions in legal immigration, as well as deportation of undocumented immigrants, including children, who have entered the United States illegally.”
Further, Compton wrote, “They are less likely than others to view systemic racism as a serious obstacle to the socioeconomic advancement of racial(ized) (and) minorit(ized) (people groups). They are more likely than others to favor harshly punitive approaches to criminal justice, including the death penalty. The list goes on and on.”
It reminds me of the teachings of W.E.B. DuBois, who condemned the two-faced disciples of “slaveholding religion,” which used Christianity as justification for the horrific and Howard Thurman, who wrote about the difference the “the religion of Jesus” makes for those whose “backs are against the wall.”
It makes me think of James Cone, who called on the “God of the Oppressed,” Kelly Brown Douglas, who wrote about the distinctions between the Black Jesus and the White Christ. It brings to my mind Karen Gonzalez, who bears witness to “The God Who Sees” immigrants and Richard Twiss, who is “Rescuing the Gospel from the Cowboys.”
Yes, it doubles as a reading list.
Further, it evokes the need for Brian Bantum’s eulogy after “The Death of Race” and Willie James Jennings’ teachings, who imagines a world “After Whiteness.” Jennings is educating readers on what it means to belong. It is the word work for the “kin-dom” to come.
It is to this peculiar speech, as baptized believers, that William Willimon says we are called. Will you answer when you are called?
Because this is yet another opportunity for the North American church to show its hands. Will the choice be yet again its historical alliance and segregationist allegiance to the powers that be?
Or will North American Christians follow in the footsteps of Jesus, knowing that the way leads to Calvary—not power and privilege?
A show of hands, please.
Director of The Raceless Gospel Initiative, an associate editor, host of the Good Faith Media podcast, “The Raceless Gospel” and author of Take Me to the Water: The Raceless Gospel as Baptismal Pedagogy for a Desegregated Church.