
A few weeks ago, I found myself poking around a tourist shop in a small town in the Deep South. Trump-themed paraphernalia covered the shelves and walls – they had it all, from gaudy “MAGA” hats to bumper stickers and signs that were downright confrontational and ugly. I finally had to leave the shop when I encountered a sign that said something to the effect of, if you’re going to kneel for the National Anthem, do it in front of oncoming traffic.
I was traveling with a friend who is a pastor in the South, so I asked him a question I’d asked another pastor-friend back in the summer: What is it like to lead a congregation in a contentious election year?
My question comes from a place of genuine interest. In my classroom, I’ve always tried to remain neutral on political issues, though I suspect my bias comes through from time to time. But, is this the right approach for a pastor, whose congregation looks to them for guidance on a whole range of issues, including, presumably, politics?
In both cases, my friends indicated they don’t preach politics from the pulpit, preferring, instead, to have those kinds of conversations one-on-one, in the context of relationships. I get it; from both a pastoral and practical perspective, it makes sense not to tell one’s congregation how to vote (legal/tax reasons aside).
But what about the crudeness, the downright ugliness that Trump has introduced into politics? At a rally this past weekend, he went on and on — inexplicably — about the size of the private parts of late golfer Arnold Palmer. Later during the same rally, he led the crowd in a call and response taunt of the Biden-Harris administration in which he goaded the audience into shouting in unison the last word of the phrase, “everything they touch turns to...” Hint: the word wasn’t “gold.”
How can a Christian — let alone a pastor — support a candidate whose default position is vulgar, crass, and crude?
This is where, for me, the line becomes more clear, and the question of how to pastor in an election year seems less delicate. This kind of mean-spirited vitriol is not only uncivil, it’s antithetical to Christianity, and it comes directly from the man at the top of the ticket. From there, it trickles down through social media posts from Trump backers, onto the signs his supporters hold and the slogans they shout from a highway overpass on a sunny Saturday afternoon, and to the cheap merch sold in tourist shops. People who share a faith can, of course, have sincere and reasonable disagreements about politics, but can’t we all at least agree that this kind of mean-spirited and crass rhetoric is just wrong?
Some days, as a university professor here in deep blue Massachusetts, it’s easy to feel fully removed from what has become of evangelicalism, and from the Trump-supporting family friends I muted on Facebook long ago. I no longer care to fight about what the word evangelicalism means or who it belongs to — I saw it lose its theological bearings during the George W. Bush years, and it is, by now, too far gone. Let it go.
But then I remember the family and friends who are still in that world — still sitting in the pews or standing behind the pulpit. I know this is a fraught time, and the stakes are high when their churches are full of Christians who are loyal to Trump, who hear in his recent remarks about how he felt a supernatural hand knock him to the ground saving his life from the would-be assassin in Pennsylvania in July, not pandering but preaching. These congregants are true believers in Trump and undercutting that belief would put relationships at risk, and, for clergy, possibly even jeopardize their careers. I get it. Still, I hold on to hope that my friends in the pews and the pulpit will prioritize what is right over what is safe, encouraging one another to progress toward who we could be, rather than just accept who we have become.
For better but mostly worse, politics has stretched its tendrils into every area of life. Where I teach, we feel this tension between remaining neutral on our person political beliefs and persuasions while also condemning the new base and crude normal in political discourse and rhetoric. I think it is important to reemphasize that all THIS is not normal. This is not typically how political figures behave or communicate with each other. It is not normal because of DJT's behavior, temperament, narcissistic disorder. I don't want to equivocate and say simply that there is fault on both sides of the political aisle. Yes, we've all been dragged down into the gutter, but there is a distinct and clear reason why. From the very beginning, DJT destroyed norms around decency, respect, decorum, civil discourse, etc. That behavior got him the power and the following he needed to rise to the office of president of the United States. Nothing about his behavior has changed. In fact, he is more emboldened by the support and cult following of his MAGA base--the extreme base and DJT have this feedback loop going, and the moral basement keeps dropping deeper. It is NOT NORMAL.
So, as educators, we emphasize that democracy, civil discourse, debate on policy, and a culture of respect based on shared principles of human rights and dignity are necessary for our society to flourish rather than languish in moral decay.
DJT is NOT NORMAL. He is not a republican or a democrat. He is an autocrat--self-serving in the most extreme way ever seen in American politics. MAGA-ism is a disease that will not easily be eradicated from our political system. It's spreading faster, unfortunately, among a new generation of teenage males (vs females)--as it appeals to the impulsive, visceral, and simplistic nature of teenage male brains--not quite as developed or empathetic as their female counterparts at this age (see Richard Reeves, Of Boys and Men).
Also of note is the tendency to dichotomize everything in the DJT worldview. An "us" vs "them" mindset is prevalent in ALL politics, but especially in the fringe far right and far left. Its a mental fallacy, but one that really plays into human tendency (see Hans Rosling, Factfulness).
I always appreciate your well thought-out opinions. Thanks for sharing!
I imagine it would be difficult to "preach" about how immoral Trump is, without also feeling the need to address the morality of the other candidates as well. (While I agree that Trump takes the cake, Harris is not without moral fault. I don't see either Trump or Harris taking the servant leader role Jesus modeled and offering to wash my feet, or whatever the modern day equivalent is. Scooping my dog's poop?) That feels to me like the first step down the road of the church focusing on judging the relative immorality of humans, which doesn't feel particularly Jesus-y, rather than the truths Jesus himself taught.
It seems more prudent to teach a church the importance of truth, respecting and loving others, kindness, humility, generosity, compassion, justice etc. I interpret Jesus as being rather political during his time on earth, but he didn't take sides with Rome or the Sanhedrin. Perhaps a teaching on putting your hope in God and not in ANY political party may be helpful.