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Whad’Ya Know

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To borrow from the title of my conversation partner’s blog post, I’m “hard pressed” to find many disagreements with her thoughtful commentary, which is an encouraging consequence, or at least, should be.  Right?  Finding common ground is a good thing, isn’t it?  Then, again, I suppose not everyone would be happy to hear a Republican and Democrat agreeing about something.  A certain skepticism would likely arise at this discovery.  Why?  Well, there must be more to the story—so goes the suspicion these days—which reminds me of a tale I haven’t told for a while, but seems worth recounting now.

I’ve previously confessed my status as a political junkie, but have yet to share that not too long ago I actually sought public office—House District 4 in the Iowa General Assembly.  For the most part, it proved to be a fantastic experience, albeit an unsuccessful one ultimately (too many straight-ticket voters).  There’s no question I learned a lot.  My campaign clearly informs my teaching and classroom instruction in the only way experiential learning can.  Despite losing, I have few regrets about throwing my hat-in-the-ring, though individual members of my family probably feel differently, as they too were affected by some of the false accusations unfairly directed at me.

Relationships 101

The specific story I’m recalling happened back during the spring of 2016 amid Orange City’s annual Tulip Festival (Breng ons een bezoek), which also coincided with the closing weeks of GOP primary election.  In the spirit of full disclosure, I had nothing to do with the pairing of conversation partners, that was entirely the doing of this project’s host, though I did have to smile when I learned Kim Van Es would represent the other side of the aisle, so-to-speak, in this opening exchange over the need to reform political discourse.  Here’s why.  As I wrote in a campaign blog entry at the time (21st of May)—

The final day of Tulip Festival is in full swing and I just got done scrubbing streets (and staying dry for the most part…can’t say that Ian [our youngest son] was so lucky, though I don’t think he was trying to keep from getting wet).  Anyway, this post is being written because it has come to my attention an opponent is going to try to make hay about one particular contribution I received recently (the first financial disclosure deadline was this past Thursday…and it’s all a matter of public record).  To be honest, it really has been quite gratifying and encouraging to see the kind of support I’ve gotten thus far from family and friends alike.

So, here’s the issue.  Really the non-issue in my view.  Among the more than 70+ gifts that have been given to Team VanDerWerff, one of them was from my friend and colleague Kim Van Es and her husband Jerry.  Kim is an English instructor at Northwestern and I’d put her up against any of my colleagues in terms of commitment and care for our students.  When she first started at NWC, I’m guessing 12-15 years ago, we actually shared an office suite briefly.  Since then we’ve served on task forces and search committees together.  Among her many accomplishments, Kim was central to getting the college’s highly successful First Year Seminar off the ground.  Moreover, years ago, Jerry was briefly my doctor when he was still practicing medicine in the local Orange City clinic.

The problem, according to some people, is that I accepted a donation from someone who happens to be the head of the Sioux County Democrats.  [It’s not as if she cut a check on the local party account!]  Quite honestly, I don’t think of Kim in that way, at least that is not her chief or primary identity to me.  She’s a tireless worker, a thoughtful colleague, a runner, and a fierce advocate for students.  She and Jerry, as I say, are most importantly my friends.

I’d like to think that their [personal/monetary] support exemplifies the fact that I’m able and willing to work with someone who doesn’t necessarily agree with me on everything; yet we nevertheless carry on a relationship that is marked by mutual respect. In my estimation, this is but one small example of what is wrong with politics today.  If someone happens to be on the “wrong side” or in the “other party” then that apparently disqualifies them from being in any sort of relationship with me.  Are those with whom we disagree no longer our neighbors or our colleagues or our friends?  I really don’t think so.  It shouldn’t be that way and it is my belief that a majority of Sioux County citizens agree.

[Note: as fate, would have it; immediately after drafting this post I headed up to the Little White Store to work a shift at the cash register selling poffertjes–if you haven’t had the pleasure, of eating poffertjes or working in the Little White Store, you’re missing out. Well, no sooner had I taken my position alongside other volunteers…guess who shows up to make the tiny Dutch delight?  Yep, Kim and Jerry Van Es.]

Those of us who call Sioux County home have to live and work together, it seems to me. We really should be able to get along despite our differences and for the most part, I think we do.  This is why I think I’ll be a good representative.  We need individuals in the Iowa General Assembly, working on our behalf, who will do so in a winsome manner; in a way that conveys not only our work ethic, but the welcoming attitude, even-handedness, and faithful presence characterizing so many of the good citizens of Sioux County.  There is no question relationships matter and I intend to serve with that in mind.

So, while my conversation partner and I each claim partisan and ideological commitments that render us on separate sides of many issues, it would seem our approach to engaging democracy as well as our attitude towards political discourse is quite similar.  That’s good to know.  It also suggests this perception of a deeply divided society as opposed to one more closely separated is, indeed, quite possibly a culture war myth.  And yet, as I argued in my first post, such a (mis)perception may become a self-fulfilling prophecy if American citizens fail to appreciate they are not as far apart or polarized as is often thought.  In fact, our social media habits or practices may be making matters worse by inadvertently fueling extremism.

Reiterating Three Points

So, let me briefly acknowledge that I find little to disagree with concerning the “three problems” Professor Van Es highlights.  There is no question that the line between fact and opinion has been blurred beyond distinction.  Information literacy is an increasingly important ability to possess in this digital age, especially when those who are charged with informing us often make things more complicated by conflating news and commentary.  I concur that this is reflected in student writing and thinking, but I fear this is a problem not just confined to those who are undergrads; I’ve seen too many older (and supposedly wiser) citizens every bit as confused or contradictory in the “expert evidence” relied upon or the logic employ in their arguments made on Facebook or elsewhere.

Secondly, the diversionary tactics employed in much of the political discourse today (and in each of the video clips, particularly the Hannity monologue) is very much in keeping with the arguments of redirection that (Ed Stetzer identified and) so many family and friends tend to default to out of what I can only assume is a misguided sense of loyalty.  This allegiance is one of the more worrisome aspects regarding the continuing evangelical support of the president quite honestly.  Consider the PRRI/RNS survey findings below—

If I had a quarter for every individual who has said in response to some sort of Trump offense, well what about—“fill-in-the-blank”—I’d be rich.  What happened in order for evangelicals to go from having the greatest qualms with a politician’s personal indiscretions to being the most accepting of such foibles?  Did this become necessary because of the GOP stand bearer?  It represents a moral relativism at its finest (that is, worst) and is a Machiavellian commitment to the ends justifying the means that would be terrific if it weren’t so tragic. 

The realization that somewhere around 3:5 of the president’s remaining supporters (his approval numbers hover in the mid-to-upper 30 percent range) say there is nothing Trump could say or do that would dissuade them from supporting him is alarming.  It also suggests why political discourse has become so difficult and persuasion, essentially, impossible.

When sites as varied as Charisma and Vox are making the same point regarding how we are potentially “selling our souls” or diminishing our standing, there might be something to these concerns.  It stands to reason that included among unreserved Trump backers, undoubtedly, are a fair number of evangelicals.  But isn’t this kind of allegiance only supposed to be reserved for the king of kings, not the commander-in-chief?

Finally, the politics of personal destruction, as its been called, are clearly on the rise.  I’m not sure I’d characterize my own electoral experience in such dire terms; at the same time, there were more than one person who commented on the unprecedented contentious nature of the campaign.  Much of that had to do with attacks of a personal nature.  In my estimation, this is simply a symptom of an eroding political discourse, one in need of reform.  It does seem to me that too much of what passes for disagreement on Facebook or other social media platforms masquerades as thinly veiled attacks as opposed to genuine arguments.  Those with whom one disagrees become “leftists” or “brainwashed” or “haters” as opposed to brothers or sisters in Christ whose faith (and lived experience) informs their politics differently.

I’ve not read the article by David Niose referenced in my conversation partner’s post, but the title alone hints at the precarious condition in which public dialogue finds itself today.  The “dangerously anti-intellectual” state of affairs is reminiscent of Mark Noll’s Scandal of the Evangelical Mind (1995).  Not surprisingly, given our roles at an institution of higher education, Kim and I both place a premium on the life of the mind.  As a review of Noll’s classic work noted, when it first came out—

The enormous weight evangelicals put on the experience of conversion, understood as a onetime, life-changing event, has…drawn energies away from intellectual concerns.  If one believes that the central religious drama takes place in an immediate, emotionally charged experience of God’s grace, then one is not likely to devote attention to more difficult, indirect or mundane ways in which God may be known.  Nor is one likely to ponder how the converted life might be lived out in institutional settings or in the arenas of politics, the arts and the sciences (emphasis mine).

The lack of civil discourse or the need to reform political discourse is but a symptom of a deeper root cause it would appear.  Sadly, despite considerable energy and effort in the years since Noll first challenged the evangelical community, much work remains and some gains may have been lost recently.

This is a minor quibble, but if there is a question I thought Kim might address more fully, given her own disciplinary training, it would have been the particular use of rhetorical tools in the political discourse on display in the CNN and FOX news (i.e., Hannity) video clips.  Actually, I’d enjoy hearing what she thinks the ideal balance or proper relationship between logos, pathos and ethos should be, that is, if such an association even exists.  Another, hopefully better, question is: are the sacrificing of logic/expertise on the altar of emotion but one indication of this so-called scandal of the evangelical mind?

On balance, however, I largely agree with my Northwestern colleague in our assessment of the appalling examples or reports provided for us to examine and evaluate.  Sadly, what we see in each of these video clips is far too common, even routine.  They are anything but an exception to the rule. 

Yes, A More Excellent Way

It seems to me engaging democracy, not just participating in politics, but doing so in a way that makes public life more attractive or appealing is an expression of the more excellent way my conversation partner longs for.  Let me make a final observation, implicitly referenced in Kim’s initial post.  Her title comes from Paul’s second letter to the early church of Corinth (chapter 4, verses 8-12)—

8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

So again, while things can seem a bit gloomy at present given the tenor and tone of public life we are not to be crushed, or in despair; we’ve not been abandoned or destroyed.  As Eugene Peterson puts it in his paraphrase of The Message: “What they did to Jesus, they do to us—trial and torture, mockery and murder; what Jesus did among them, he does in us—he lives! Our lives are at constant risk for Jesus’ sake, which makes Jesus’ life all the more evident in us. While we’re going through the worst, you’re getting in on the best!”

Granted, evangelicals hardly experience what could be called persecution, in the truest sense of the term.  The challenges increasingly faced today are much closer to the trial and mockery end of the spectrum than the prospect of torture or murder.  As bad as things have gotten, whether real or perceived, we’re not living in some sort of Rwandian or Syrian reality.  Even in decline, as political discourse worsens, it is a far cry from oppression.  The old children’s rhyme remains as true today as ever—sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me.

An important caveat in the growing frequency with which Christians are crying foul or claiming they’re being singled out, if not persecuted, it often (not always) seems to me this is the result of behaving in a way that brings about a well-earned and deserving rebuke.  Many evangelicals may well be correct in their assessment, but the way they go about making their argument or conveying their message is, in a word, mean.  A certain arrogance or self-righteousness is too often worn as a badge of honor, comforted by 2 (two…? Sorry, couldn’t resist) Corinthians 4:8-12.  But here’s the problem, the world may well despise us because of following Jesus, but the world should never hate Jesus because of what we say or do in his name.

As such, it starts with how we speak to and about others.  Not only must the tongue be tamed, but our tone needs to reflect the fruit of the spirit, not the tenor of the times.  Evangelicals, myself included, cannot let the world press us into its political mold (Romans 12:2).

Let me close by saying as problematic and unfit as the president may be, the presidency deserves our respect.  While not necessarily surprised, it remains fascinating to me how frustrated some Facebook friends get over my continued criticism of Trump (a member of the so-called #19Percent, I’ve been admittedly relentless in highlighting his failures and foibles, not to mention the continued cover provided for the president by some prominent evangelicals).  It seems incomprehensible to my critics that I’m simultaneously submitting to the governing authority, as Romans 13 encourages, and repeatedly taking Trump to task.

The hope found in the whole sweep of scripture captures what citizens of heaven should be about; why we are saved.   What this means in terms of reforming political discourse must begin by acknowledging that we, as N.T. Wright so clearly reminds us, “have all but lost the ability conceptually—never mind practically—to affirm that rulers are corrupt and to be confronted yet are God-given and to be obeyed.”  Comply and oppose.  Not one or the other, but both-and: confront and obey.  This is likely going to require discernment and discretion as well as result in a fair amount of tension.

In my estimation, condemnation came much too quickly and easily for evangelicals when the occupant of the White House was not a preferred candidate.  This reality has been replaced by a reticence to criticize the current president who, if he wasn’t the GOP stand bearer, would be roundly called to task given much of what he’s done (or failed to do) was denounced in the actions of his predecessors.  Trump, of course, enjoyed the overwhelming backing of Christian conservatives with roughly 81 percent of white evangelicals casting a ballot for the celebrity outsider.  While that vote is defensible, if debatable; more importantly, it was 10 months ago, so what explains the continued support now?

Truth be told, at the end of the day, Trump is not the problem!  Not really.  He clearly is not the cause of our current state of affairs or the increasingly suspect quality of contemporary political discourse.  No, Trump is the consequence of what plagues us.  Removing him from office, then (whether by losing reelection, resignation, or impeachment), would not address that which has given rise to Trumpism.  For that to happen, to begin the arduous process of diagnosing root causes and not just symptoms, we must learn once again to engage one another and to enter into relationships and conversations with those who do not share our political views, especially when they are our brothers and sisters in Christ.

This, it would seem, entails engaging democracy in a more excellent way.  Whad’ya know…

Without Question, It’s Worse

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Simply put, I’ll state right up front, from my limited perspective in this rural corner of Iowa, it’s worse than simply talking past each other.  There’s little question we are not talking to or with each other.  Moreover, even when polite—and many times that is not the case—we’re not having respectful conversations.  Try as I might, especially in the months since the election of Donald J. Trump as the 45th president of the United States, despite concerted efforts to have such conversations, I’ve largely failed.  Undoubtedly, some (maybe most) of that is my fault, but any dialogue takes two to transpire and so the blame is likely not entirely just mine to bear. 

Granted, many of these “conversations” have occurred online via the treacherous virtual reality known as Facebook (FB).  Maybe that’s my first mistake, can a healthy dialogue take place on social media?  This popular platform, as well as Twitter (among other digital means), are often considered key culprits in the erosion of our collective civil discourse.  Nevertheless, I persist.  For better or worse, FB has assumed a central, albeit virtual, “place” in our public life.  Among the countless timeline posts about kids or favorite sports teams (not to mention Plexus promotions or the latest recipe discoveries), is the occasional contribution to political commentary.  Granted, at least in my case, they may be more frequently than most.

Recently, an old high school friend said they didn’t understand what I was trying to accomplish with these various FB posts regarding the president and/or evangelicals.  I’d estimate around a quarter of my timeline content, if even that much, explores one or the other topic (the two, in my view, are bound together rather closely these days given 81% of white evangelicals cast a vote in favor of Trump).  While receiving considerable encouragement along the way as I post and comment on FB, I’ve also been told in no uncertain terms I’m a Trump “hater,” a leftist, generally lack context or simply have lost perspective in my self-righteous effort to shame family and friends.  I figure that sort of criticism goes with the territory; should it? 

Now, I too post my share of family stuff and a variety of innocuous material regarding either my beloved Seattle Seahawks or Kansas Jayhawks (go hawks), but I’m a political junkie, to be sure.  In addition to be a life-long, card carrying Republican, and generally of a conservative ideological bent, I’m a trained political scientist.  First and foremost, however, I’m a follower of Jesus, who cares deeply about public life or the classic notion of politics and, in particular, the witness of Christ’s bride, the church.

My persistence—some critics say I’m obsessed—in raising these concerns, of spotlighting what I see as the blind spots of evangelical participation in public life, was recently affirmed as I listened to a sermon series at my home church.  As I sat in the sanctuary, only a few weeks ago, I was reminded Paul challenged the members of the early church at Ephesus (the first sixteen verses of chapter 4) to live a life worthy of their calling; they each possessed different gifts, as do we.  This word of God spoke to me.  In essence, I thought, that is what I’m trying to do as a faculty member and dean of the social sciences where I teach and serve as well as in my broader public life, even on FB: faithfully follow God’s call.

The (Sorry) State of Political Discourse in America

Before saying anything more, let me first set the stage by making a few observations on two unremarkable, albeit illustrative YouTube clips that, if nothing else, epitomize much of what passes for contemporary political commentary.  Unsurprisingly, it matters not whether this discourse originates from the left or right of the partisan and/or ideological spectrum.  Both sides are culpable and complicit in the current state of affairs.

In some ways, it’s hard to say what the goal or purpose of either video clip really is.  In many ways, they’ve each in their own way become, sadly, a form or kind of entertainment?  Neither the shorter CNN clip nor the somewhat longer Sean Hannity monologue are educational in any serious sense of that word.  Let’s briefly consider each of them, in turn, after which I’ll take some time to address (in the next section) the question of bias, and (in the section after that) questions of audience, rhetorical tools, and what, if anything, is worthy of compliment or, more likely (hint, hint), criticism.  I’ll offer some final thoughts, then, in a concluding section.

The CNN roundtable discussion was at best a three-on-one debate that is better described as a shouting match, a much too common occurrence for such formats.  Hosted by anchor Kate Boldaun (who I must confess I was unfamiliar with; our family doesn’t subscribe to cable and I seldom, if ever, watch CNN), the argument centered on unnamed sources in a story late last spring over whether President Trump inadvertently, and possibly quite carelessly, divulged classified information to two Russian diplomats visiting the White House Oval Office. 

The subject of Boldaun’s roundtable while important was less of an issue for me than the way in which the topic was discussed.  It had all the earmarks and echoes, not to mention subtly, of cable shows like Hardball or, formerly, The McLaughlin Group, may it rest in peace.  Exchanges like these are, simply put, decidedly unhelpful.  It recalls the epic 2004 Jon Stewart takedown of Paul Begala and Tucker Carlson where the Comedy Central star pleaded with the Crossfire hosts to just stop…because they were hurting America!  Unfortunately, his advice has not been heeded by producers and participants on such shows.  Truth be told, those who tune-in to such drivel deserve to be admonished too; without an audience, there’d be no market.

A secondary concern for me is the purveyor of this particular YouTube clip.  As troubling, and unwittingly ironic, as Boldaun’s CNN International program “State of America” might be, The PolitiStick describes itself as a team of movement conservatives that will “hit back at the news makers and news breakers for their bias, corruption, and dishonesty.”  In my estimation, The PolitiStick constitutes a growing number of fringe organizations or endeavors representative of more extreme views in society than the mass middle of America where most citizens reside.

Not only has the 24/7 news cycle given rise to a need—airtime must be filled—but the increased competition for eyeballs, page views and/or click throughs clearly heightens an understandable temptation to highlight those who are willing to say the most outlandish and controversial things.  Moreover, the digital age and cyberspace has provided an opportunity for the shrillest voices and most unhinged among us to easily communicate their message.  The PolitiStick, somewhat predictably, revels in their bias and irreverence.

This leads to another observation, one that is depicted even more effectively by the second video clip of FOX news featuring Sean Hannity.  It captures nicely what U.S. Senator Ben Sasse has aptly dubbed “weaponizing distrust” and animates the ubiquitous charge of fake news these days.  All broadcast organizations have a bias, even FOX, but many citizens no longer believe journalists can report day-to-day happenings or developments in an objective or neutral fashion.  Is that still possible?  Call me naïve, but I believe it is.  There should be a shared reservoir of facts even in the midst of an onslaught of opinion.   Bias is not the same thing as fake news, which are stories made up out of whole cloth with no interest or intention other than in sowing confusion and spreading disinformation.

Charitably, even Hannity’s opening monologue on the Russia collusion story in the wake of the revelation/allegation of Donald Trump, Jr.’s involvement isn’t fake news, despite being terribly one-sided and not surprisingly partisan (Philip Bump at The Washington Post wrote an even-handed and wonderfully balanced response to the “Clinton and Ukraine did it, too” excuse).  Sadly, more than anything else, Hannity is weaponizing distrust.  If my experience is typical, you only have to read the letters to the editor section of any local or regional paper to see these false or misleading narratives repeated with some regularity.

The Question of Bias

This leads to one last comment, before taking up the task of answering who the audience might be for these respective video clips, the rhetorical tools employed in each one and some constructive criticism, particularly, of the Hannity monologue.  The observations that follow build on the usual conceptualization of bias as well as the claim that FOX (to say nothing of Breitbart or InfoWars) is not as fair and balanced as they like to say.  This contention is likely to get me in trouble with my fellow Republicans, conservatives and, ostensibly, a great many evangelicals.  What’s new? 

It is but one example of why I’m often referred to as a RINO (Republican in name only).  In my defense, I’d submit that all followers of Jesus should be so labelled.  Here’s what I’m getting at.  Are we’re honestly heeding the advice, of sorts,  Vice President Mike Pence offers where we are to be Christians, conservatives and Republicans, in that order?  It seems to me, if we are, that all evangelicals would be RINOs of a sort given their ultimate loyalty lies elsewhere as citizens first and foremost of God’s kingdom. 

But back to FOX news.  Don’t misunderstand, I’m not saying the other three MSM networks are any better, some might argue they are worse, but that’s beside the point.  Carl Trueman at Westminster Theological Seminary wrote a delightful little book a few years back called: Republocrat—Confessions of a Liberal Conservative (2010).  Among his considerations, he devoted a chapter to media bias and playfully entitled it “The Not-so-Fantastic Mr. Fox” in light of a box office hit at the time as well as the assumed go-to news source for Christians.

His point is not, as some assume, to pick on FOX; rather it is to suggest evangelical viewers temper their enthusiasm.  Trueman was surprised to find upon arriving in the U.S. (he’s a native of Great Britain), that many new-found friends and congregants were advising him that there was only one place to get the unvarnished truth.  Eager to see and hear this for himself, Trueman soon discovered otherwise and subsequently argues “not that Christians abandon one biased news channel for another; rather it is Christians above all people [who] should take seriously their responsibility as citizens and make every effort to find out as much as they can about the issues that matter.”  This requires more than a single source or vantage point. 

As importantly, all citizen consumers of the news need to recognize every outlet has a bias, one that goes beyond partisan or ideological predispositions.  We must not forget that the media is an economic enterprise, a business with a bottom-line.  Structural bias is inherent in the news as a consequence of the standard practices of journalism.  Patterns of coverage that consistently appear in reporting are the result of built-in limitations, constraints and demands associated with delivering the news (an instructive exercise is to contrast and compare the PBS News Hour on the local public channel to the same-day coverage on any of the big four commercial networks—ABC, CBS, FOX or NBC).

Structural bias, in other words, is a consequence of the medium itself.  It appears differently in electronic or digital formats than it does in print and is especially important when it comes to television/cable news since this is where most people get their information.  The sources of structural bias include: corporate influence, entertainment values (including the demand for interesting visuals,) time limitations, and the definition of what is newsworthy.  While partisan and ideological biases are not to be dismissed, they are not the only source of distortion.  Bias of this structural variety, while less often understood if even acknowledged by most viewers, is an important reality to keep in mind too.

Audience, Rhetoric, Oh My…

As far as the target audience of these two video clips, both the CNN and FOX segments seem primarily focused on viewers who are of a like-mind.  This suggests the goal of these efforts may well be one of affirmation or reinforcement; it is clearly not one of persuasion.  The problem of “talking past each other” is complicated to begin with by the fact that in many cases the two sides aren’t even talking to each other.  Increasingly, this is reflective of a dynamic that’s been described as “the big sort.”  First coined by journalist Bill Bishop in his 2008 book of the same name, it describes a phenomenon whereby Americans are choosing to associate, more so than ever, with people who are largely like themselves.

This becomes problematic in perpetuating the myth of a so-called culture war.  As Morris Fiorina and his colleagues have demonstrated rather persuasively in their research findings, even when it comes to the most polarizing issues of the day (think abortion or gay marriage), the vast majority of the public is closely divided, not deeply divided.  The distribution of beliefs present as a normal bell curve as opposed to a bi-modal division of views, which would be expected in a more polarized environment.  It’s not that political elites aren’t engaged in a culture war, they are, but the extent or scale is far less prevalent than most would assume given much of the media coverage and political discourse.

The apparent dilemma—and why things are likely worse, or soon will be, than simply talking past one another—is found in that these perceptions of a culture war may well become a self-fulfilling prophecy, of sorts.  If those holding differing positions on some of our most pressing or contentious problems never encounter or interact with anyone on “the wrong side” (this hilarious yet pointed op-ed is well worth the read), in other words, if the two sides don’t talk, aren’t in relationship, how will either one ever discover that on many issues they are not as far apart as they’ve been led to believe or have assumed all along? 

And if the myth of a polarized America isn’t bad enough, James Davison Hunter reminds us culture wars precede civil wars.  Before the Shooting Begins (1994) makes an argument that rings true as much today as it did two decades ago, maybe more.  A conflict of this severity remains quite unlikely, but it should not be considered an impossiblility and events over the first few months of the Trump administration suggest as much.

The rhetorical tools employed in each of these video clips appear to emphasize pathos, almost to the exclusion of logos or ethos.  Emotion, characterized by anger or hate, seems to drive much of the discourse as opposed to logic or expertise.  Moreover, Hannity’s monologue epitomizes a classic example of an argument based on redirection.  Not wanting to take on squarely the poor judgment, if not ethical lapse, displayed by Donald Trump Jr. in agree to meet with a Russian attorney who supposedly had dirt to dish on his father’s presidential campaign opponent, Hannity shifts his audience’s attention to the alleged malfeasance and misdeeds of Hillary Clinton as well as those working on her behalf.

Ed Stezter, who works with Lifeway Research and is a regular contributor to Christianity Today, recently speculated on why Christians are unable to critique President Trump.  Given so many (especially evangelicals) voted for him, he suspects this reveals a kind of “Rorshach test” where many Christians, rather than take the president to task, prefer to focus on the sins or misdeed of others out of a misguided sense of loyalty. 

In addition to arguments of redirection or loyalty (such as Hannity utilized), the worst kind, in Stetzer’s view is when Christians engage in arguments of deduction.  These can be particularly pernicious because of their potentially idolatrous nature.  Deductive arguments, of course, move from a general statement to a specific instance.  If the premise is that Trump is correct, then what he says or does must be right.  As Stetzer writes, “If you have elevated President Trump…to a level that you will not speak out when egregious, divisive errors are made, then you are showing the world your god is not the King of Kings, but a commander-in-chief.”   

Not surprisingly, I found very little, if anything, worth complimenting in either of the videos.  As my observations/comments above should make clear, however, there is much deserving of criticism in both the CNN and FOX clips.  Some might take exception with what is viewed as my disproportionate focus on FOX and Hannity, seeing as I’m supposed to engage this respectful conversation from the right of center.  Let me explain.  It has always seemed to me that the beginning of a healthy discourse must start with me or my side.  Removing the plank from our eye before zeroing in on the speck in someone else’s eye, seems prudent if not wise, not to mention biblical (Matthew 5:7).

It’s not the first time, nor will it likely be the last, that I take Republicans or conservatives or evangelicals to task.  These are my people and as such I should have more to say to them in levelling constructive, yet loving, criticism.  Without question, it isn’t always received (or possibly delivered) in that way, whether on Facebook or face-to-face, but that is my intention.  Confrontation, while seldom, if ever, pleasant or enjoyable, can nevertheless be civil and is often necessary.  If nothing else, the church and its members should be modelling for the wider world how to better disagree.  I’m not confident we do that as often or as well as we should be.

Engaging Democracy: Living Into this Reality

So, even though I believe things are worse than simply talking past each other, I’m still hopeful and (most days) encouraged by efforts to maintain a faithful presence in an increasingly post-Christian culture.  I’ve always liked the dual meaning of the phrase, engaging democracy.  Not only does it reference the importance of participating in the political process, it as importantly raises the prospects of making the democratic experience more attractive or appealing.  For that to happen, however, we must at a minimum reform our political discourse. 

Consider the following questions: are evangelical Christians more likely to be considered part of the problem or part of the solution today when it comes to engaging democracy?  Are we known by our love or have we let the world press us into its political mold?  Are we more concerned about claiming our rights or known for fulfilling our responsibilities?  Are we truly and honestly concerned about who our neighbor is and how they are doing?  While many followers of Jesus answer such inquires in the affirmative, I’m not sure I can always and I’m fairly certain that is the case for a vast majority of fellow believers.  It is but one reason why I eagerly anticipate next month’s subtopic, as subsequent conversation partners explore the prospects of a Christian political discourse.

Virtue, of course, remains a vitally important element in this grand experiment of American democracy, but is it government’s responsibility to make its citizens good?  No, of course not.  Among the various members of civil society, none is more important than the church, in my estimation.  The much-maligned separation of church and state is a good thing in so far as each institution performs its respective role: the church contributing to the common good and the state maintaining the sovereignty of each sphere—business, education, family—in society. In the words of WW2 German martyr, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “the church is only the church when it exists for others.”

I suspect the bitter division in the church today comes down to the latent split in American evangelicalism that has emerged ever more clearly over the past several months and gets highlighted by tragic events such as Charlottesville, among others.  On the one hand, there are many of my friends and family as well as VP Pence and the evangelical advisory council (e.g., Robert Jeffress, Jerry Falwell, Jr., Paula White, etc.) who tend to stand with the president.  On the other hand, I find greater affinity with the message of Noel Castellanos, Russel Moore and Scott Arbeiter (not to mention 160 Wheaton College professors) who are quicker to dissent, if not condemn, Trump.

Despite all appearances to the contrary, hope remains.  There is no good reason, it seems to me, more of us shouldn’t heed the guidance provided by Jeremiah 29 and seek the peace and prosperity of the “city” by living in the midst of those who do not share our faith, yet serving them faithfully nonetheless. Evangelical followers of Jesus might increasingly feel like aliens or foreigners in our own land, but given our status as sojourners—not to mention citizens of heaven—should this matter?  Must we demand to take our country back (whatever that means) or do we simply live into a new reality as exiles actively awaiting the redemption and recreation of all things? 

As N.T. Wright provocatively posits, Jesus “saw as pagan corruption the very desire to fight paganism.”  In my view, engaging democracy is part and parcel of living responsibly in the world, while still not being part of it.  In other words, being wise as a serpent, yet gentle as a dove.  It is, as this concluding section suggests, about maintaining a faithful presence in an increasingly diverse and pluralistic country (re: James Davison Hunter’s argument in To Change the World). 

Besides, the light is winning.  Sure, darkness surges from time to time, but the advance of the kingdom is assured.  Since launching this restorative project, as recorded in Luke 4 (i.e., the so-called Nazareth Manifesto), the light shines in and through the countless partial and imperfect efforts of kingdom citizens, who through the power of the spirit reflect Jesus—the Light of the world—into the various crooks and crannies of a broken and hurting creation. 

As his disciples, followers of Jesus are to be doing on earth as is done in heaven, right?  At a minimum, then, evangelical discourse ought to do better.  In demanding more, it is critical we learn how to disagree well.  Moreover, this means we must be mindful of public life as we go about the work of bringing heaven to earth, because Christians are saved for, not from, a wary world that is closely watching us.