A Story

I sat once in the visitors gallery of the United States Senate. While visiting relatives in DC, my father and I thought, “Here’s a chance to listen to the Farm Bill debate in person!” Ignoring my uncle’s advice to not take the Metro downtown after dark, we emerged on the National Mall, walked to the Capitol, and after a small security check, were soon listening to Senator Bob Dole talk about price supports! I was surprised by all the empty seats in the balcony but it quickly became apparent that “watching Congress” is not very exciting. Still, visiting the Capitol on a whim and witnessing our democracy in action was an experience I will always remember.

So when I watched an angry mob force their way into that same chamber on Jan 6th, smashing windows, assaulting Capitol Police and threatening duly elected representatives, I experienced both a civic and personal… gut punch. Seeing it unfold live, I felt a similar despair and despondency to September 11th, another day the nation was attacked by people who thought any means justified their ends. Although very different tragedies, both days beg for a conversation more consequential than whom to punish and how. As human beings, and especially as people of faith, the larger question needs to be, “Why?” followed closely by “Now what?”  That’s the obligation of agape.

The Scope of the issue

Now I’m not a politician nor a partisan. If you are thinking this is going to be one more political commentary on recent events, I pray you are sorely disappointed.  Instead, I hope to engage conservatives, liberals, moderates and “indifferents” in a conversation because,  “our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh” (Eph 6:12) The enemy is not “those Republicans” or “those Democrats”. It’s not one President or even the few hundred people who attacked the Capitol.  Rather our struggle, Paul goes on to say, is “against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”  In other words, our struggle is against sin… the brokenness involved with being human. Sin is everywhere and in everyone.  That theological conviction, however, is actually a powerful tool to confront those very forces and it’s one of the reasons I want to have this conversation.

So this is the first part of a series of posts where we work through some of the theological implications of faith, power, and politics. These are the concepts behind the title: The Cross, the Gallows, and the Capitol. That title came to me after seeing this picture of gallows constructed during the riot.  In his powerful and convicting book, “The Cross and the Lynching Tree” theologian James H. Cone connects the lynching of black Americans in the Jim Crow South with the crucifixion of Jesus by the Romans. Both served not simply as a means of death, but as demonstrations of power.

The events of Jan 6th (Epiphany 2021) similarly evoked symbols of power, religion, and politics, sometimes overtly and sometimes with a more hidden theological thread to justify violence and racism under the veil of patriotism. It is to this matrix that we must apply the Christian gospel, where power is found not in violence but in service.  Not in the ability to kill but in the ability to give life.  God was not the one doing the lynching.  God was the innocent victim hung on the tree.

A way of seeing

Over the next few weeks, I invite you into this journey with me.  I don’t have all the answers or even very many of them. The goal is conversation, so comment. My role is to apply theological concepts to the events of the day and pray the Spirit helps us in our weakness.  I do this because I firmly believe that the division and brokenness we feel in our society is as much a result of bad theology as it is bad politics.  Here is what’s coming up:

Sinner and Saint: Does that help us discern ‘truth’?

Freedom of a Christian: What’s the interplay between freedom and responsibility?

Two Kingdoms: Can faith be separated from politics?

Law and Gospel: How do we pray for God’s kingdom to come in a broken world?

Upfront about me

Now in a show of good faith,  I’m going to lay out my own political leanings and tendencies since no one approaches a conversation from neutral ground.  I take this risk of being honest and upfront because I believe it also opens the door to a more fruitful conversation. Don’t be scared.  There aren’t THAT many skeletons to reveal! ? In my youth, I couldn’t tell you if my parents were Democrats or Republicans. I think they voted for candidates who cared about farmers and whom they thought helped the “little guy.”  My first political memory is voting for Jimmy Carter in 5th grade because he was a farmer and I liked peanuts.  It was as simple as that.  I discovered I was in the minority, though, and experienced the sneer of the majority. I remained a fan of President Carter throughout my life and have many of his books. I had the opportunity to listen to him speak in person while I was in seminary and greatly admire his life after office.   I went to college at UNL in 1984, which coincided with the farm crisis. Through the Agronomy Club and other connections on East Campus, I became involved in the first collegiate farm advocacy group in the nation.  We named it FACTS, Farm Action Concerns Tomorrows Society.  We went to hearings at the state capital, wrote editorials, helped bring Farm Aid to Memorial Stadium, and tried to provide support for students whose families were under severe strain.  I suppose that was the extent of my ‘college radicalism.’

As an adult, I would classify myself as a moderate, who oscillates between ‘right’ leaning and ‘left’ leaning. I’ve voted for both Republican and Democratic candidates. I have a pretty strong conservative streak, especially when it comes to money. On social issues, I probably lean left, although the extreme left makes me as uncomfortable as the extreme right.  Former Texas Ag commissioner Jim Hightower once said, “Ain’t nothin’ in the middle of the road but yellow lines and dead armadillos.”  My response is that yellow lines are rather important, since they keep opposing traffic from crashing into one another.  Some think being a moderate, who likes the middle ground, is cop-out…an easy alternative to actually taking a stand.  The dead armadillos are a reminder that middle ground is dangerous. You get hit both coming and going, from both the right and the left.   Being a moderate is how I’m wired.  In his landmark book, “The Righteous Mind” psychologist Jonathan Haidt lays out a theory of moral, religious and political interaction that changed how I think of myself and others.  I highly recommend his book!  I like being a moderate yet I’m aware there are pitfalls and weaknesses. It is easy sometimes to sit on the sidelines and practice “quietism”.

In his letter from a Birmingham jail, MLK wrote:  I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; 

That’s hard for me to hear yet it is true.  If we can each hear hard things about ourselves, perhaps that will lessen the hard things we say to others.  On the question still unanswered, I did not vote for Donald Trump in either election but I bear no judgment against those who did. I have many friends and family whom I admire and respect, whose judgment I would trust with my life, who did vote for him.  But as we will see in the coming conversation, one man is not the issue.  How we see one another and the world in which we live is the real issue and that is the conversation I hope to begin…with God’s help.  Because without God’s help, the mess we are in is hopeless and I won’t for a second believe that is true!