Why The Election Won’t Fix American Evangelicalism

“Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are Anger and Courage. Anger at the way things are, and Courage to see that they do not remain as they are.” -Augustine of Hippo

At this moment, evil is holed up in the White House, and still supported by an enormous contingent from the Religious Right. The old saying “you can’t go home again” will apply to many who have left the Evangelical Church over their support of Donald Trump. Even in these last days of his failures, Hate has found a new home. “Patriot Churches” are now a thing. In reading their propaganda, I see no Jesus. Their platform is just an extension of the Religious Right’s crusade to condemn the LGBTQ community and maintain the power of the status quo; a logical continuation of the evil that exists under the withering gaze of the Religious Right.

I believe the majority of Americans are just exhausted. It’s easy to give up hope. COVID has infected almost eleven million of us, and killed hundreds of thousands.  Black people continue to be disproportionately murdered without consequence. Poor children continue to go hungry. The rich continue to grow richer, and many of us pray that Amy Coney Barrett won’t bring the hammer down on our health insurance.

What’s a Christian to do?

That’s what I will be exploring in the next few weeks. Certainly, the election results will elicit reactions from both sides. But as a follower of Jesus Christ, I should have a default behavior. Hope used to be my baseline response. I wore my innocence and trust in Christianity like a sparkly garment, woven from the shimmering threads of my relationship with Jesus and life as part of a church. After three years of believing the Evangelicals would come to their senses, Hope’s daughter Anger blew in from out of town. She surprised me with her power, ripping the fabric of my beautiful cloak away and exposing the reality of politics and religion. She and I left the shredded remnant hanging by the sanctuary door.

Months later, my church family is still married to Donald, and now birthing ugly stepchildren like Patriot Churches. Even if Trump loses, the massive damage to the Evangelical establishment cannot be undone. The wreckage of relationships smokes in the ruins. Sunday mornings are now spent at the supermarket. With COVID running rampant, it’s hard to form new social groups, and the loneliness is exacerbated by isolation. It’s tempting to throw in the towel on finding a new Jesus-based community.

However, I haven’t given up just yet. Recently I was listening to a podcast from a fellow Christian outcast, and he shared this quote: “Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are Anger and Courage. Anger at the way things are, and Courage to see that they do not remain as they are.” -Augustine of Hippo.

Without meaning to, I had invited Anger to spend the last year helping me cope with this tragedy. Her power helped me reach beyond my technological limits and find ways to fight on a national level. She coaxed me out of my comfort zone as well as my tiny little town. I am grateful for the time we spent together, but I believe I have learned everything she had to teach me.

Now I’m inviting her sister, Courage, to come stay for a while.

Courage’s broad following is nothing new, but she’s breaking fresh ground among Exvangelicals. Many former believers have given up on Christianity, but we must fight devolving into sofa spuds.  We who are still on firm footing with  Jesus Christ must pray without ceasing for new direction. Young people are this disaster’s greatest casualties. Kevin and I hear from them all time: kids from our Sunday School classes, now in their twenties and thirties, who watch in disbelief as their parents continue to follow the pillars of modern Evangelicalism. All we can tell them is this:

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”- Hebrews 13:8 NIV

“The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things through his powerful word.”- Hebrews 1:3 NIV

We ask them to keep talking to God. We urge them to keep reading the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ life and teachings. We pray for them. And if we don’t give up, hopefully they won’t either.

Leaving Anger for Courage

Also, I want to spend more time learning from people who lived out real courage. In searching for a quote, I discovered Mary MacLeod Bethune (1875-1955). Mrs. Bethune was an American stateswoman, educator, philanthropist, humanitarian, womanist, civil rights activist, and a national adviser to President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Known as “The First Lady of the Struggle,” this daughter of slaves changed the world in a time when women of color had no voice and seemingly, no power.

“We have a powerful potential in our youth, and we must have the courage to change old ideas and practices so that we may direct their power toward good ends.”

I suspect Mary MacLeod Bethune spent time in Anger’s company, but used what she learned with Courage against what must have appeared to be impossible odds. I, on the other hand, am a white middle-class American. To give up the fight, no matter how dark the forecast, would be a self-centered and lazy waste of of my God-given gifts and an insult to the brave warriors who have gone before me. The American Evangelical landscape appears littered with broken relationships, and our leaders have revealed their all-too-human quests for power. But Jesus is still King. His Word still stands. His glory still shines. His power still conquers. And most importantly, His grace still covers us- me, Religious Right leaders, Trump-supporting neighbors, estranged family members- all of us who have lost something in the fight.

The days are growing colder as we enter November, but I have sewn a new cloak to wear. This one’s not sparkly with the naivete of 2016. Instead, she’s heavier; woven with a fresher awareness of racism, threaded with dark strands of rebellion I wear in solidarity. Her rainbow buttons serve to remind me that all of God’s children deserve equal rights and to be part of a family. The collar is ratty and torn, stained with blood and ripped by barbed wire. The collar is made of garments worn by the desperate, running from gangs and violence in Central America. This isn’t a coat I would have worn to church four years ago.

But I should have. Jesus would love this coat, and His opinion is all that matters.

©2020 Rachel Ophoff, Coconut Mountain Communications LLC. All Rights Reserved.