As I study about love this morning in preparation for my next book, thirty minutes down the road last night the Alt-Right, a white supremacist group, and their supporters had descended upon Charlottesville, VA in protest against the proposed removal of a Civil War era monument. It was a flashback to the 1960s and the Civil Rights movement. Men milled around in the dark lit by the fires of their torches and angrily shouting slogans.
We have an outdoor cat. I had wanted an outdoor cat to deal with the assorted vermin eating up my garden. And because I liked cats. But I wasn’t sure how to train a cat to make her home outside yet remain safely on the property. Cat (that’s her name) arrived at our home full-grown, woods-wise, and ready to sucker some human beings into taking care of her.
If you’ve ever participated in, or listened to without protest, a conversation that denigrates an entire group of strangers, then you’ve experienced the peculiar contradiction of the racist Christian. You may smile awkwardly. You may nod. You may even join in. But somewhere deep inside you squirm, for you don’t truly miss the holy disconnect of being a racist Christian. Or a sexist Christian. Or a class-conscious Christian.
Anytime we pit our own righteousness against that of the “other”…
"Whoever digs a pit will fall into it, and a stone will come back on him who starts it rolling." (Proverbs 26:27 - but you'll want to read vs. 20-28)
This country really was founded on Christian principles, if a little imperfectly. Because of this, up till now we as Christian citizens of the United States have been able to proclaim our faith boldly with the wind, it could be said, at our backs. Now the wind is blowing the other way, yet the gospel has not changed. Nor has our mandate to declare it.