I'm Embarrassed by American Christianity

It happens more and more these days. I’m embarrassed by much of American Christianity.

I’ve spent a lifetime bring proud of the word, “Christian.” As a child, when other young boys were planning to grow up to be firemen, “army men” or professional football players, I was going to be a preacher “like my daddy.” But, too often these days, preachers make me cringe.

“Too often these days, preachers make me cringe.”

-Russ Dean

I hear anti-education views that are dishearteningly narrow. I hear views about women that are shockingly antiquated and reflect distorted interpretations of Scripture. I hear opinions about “homosexuals” that sound as if we’re still living in an Old Testament world (or that we ought to be). I hear evangelistic proclamations that exclude and divide, tone deaf exclusivism in a pluralistic world. I hear support for torture and detention and deportation and preemptive war, and I wonder where the heart of Jesus is in all of that aggression. I hear celebration for The Wall without the slightest irony that the whole movement of God is to unite us, that Jesus showed us that Way “by breaking down the wall of hatred that separated us” (Ephesians 2.14).

I was raised by Southern Baptists, proud to be a Southern Baptist and planned a career of service among Southern Baptists. I was educated in church-sponsored institutions (Furman University, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and Beeson Divinity School). I was proud of their histories and their commitments to provide a “Christian education”; and I was excited to share those legacies.

But, as a Baptist educated by Baptists, I hear anger toward immigrants (as if the land under our feet could actually be called “our land”), and my heart aches for the lack of compassion and sympathy. I hear angry religiosity that is difficult to separate from self-righteousness. I hear “convictions of faith” that are deeply mired in blind and bitter partisanship – with no awareness of the dangers (if not the embarrassment) of needing the State to do the bidding of the Church. I hear hatred of difference, not hope in diversity. I hear fear of change rather than faith in the future.

I stand in the pulpit of a Baptist church every Sunday. I cannot imagine a better vocation, a more fulfilling calling. I get to bring the Gospel to bear on the important issues of the day, engage with people in life’s most joyous and sorrowful moments, welcome newborns, bury the dead. I am that preacher I longed to be, like my daddy.

“I just think the word from the Church should always sound different than the word from any White House.”

But I hear Christian people celebrating “a roaring economy” with no apparent awareness or concern for the larger, more important issue – that despite any economic success our civility is crumbling. Where is our shared sense of decency, our morality? The nation may be enjoying a moment of financial prosperity, but at what cost? Truth and integrity, and maybe democracy itself, are at stake. And yet some Christians want to cheer that their portfolio has grown a little?

I hear affirmations of our military strength, with no concern for Jesus’ warning that “the first will be last, the greatest will be the least.” I hear the arrogance of American “exceptionalism” instead of the biblical affirmation that all people are created in the image of God. I hear the praise of “God bless America” with no recognition that God blesses all, and that “pride goeth before the fall.”

I believe in the power of the Gospel. I believe Jesus changes hearts, and that his calling is a daring summons to a truly social justice – to a salvation that changes our minds as well as our souls, that dares us to put the good of all before the success of any individual. (How could any of us actually be “whole” otherwise?) I believe one sermon can change your life (because one sermon changed mine!). I believe the world still needs the Church. I just think the word from the Church should always sound different than the word from any White House.

But I hear preachers gloating over the meanness (they call it “toughness”) the current administration boasts, with no acknowledgement that Jesus’ calls to self-abasement and self-sacrifice invite us to a completely different approach to human relations – a “more excellent way.” I hear exhortations to domination and submission (in marriage and in foreign diplomacy), power and a “theology of victory,” with no evidence of humility or kindness.

I hear 30 years of preaching about the utter and complete abandonment of personal morality, while the same preachers bemoan that American culture is going to hell in a handbasket, turning its back on the Church and forsaking God for, you know, Sunday baseball, kids soccer matches and the like. (But shouldn’t even Sunday baseball be preferable to hypocrisy?)

More and more these days, I’m embarrassed by Christianity.

I’m just not ready to give up on Jesus.

A Conversation About Guns

Guns.
 
I just needed to get that out there, in case you’re one of those who hears the word and automatically turns the page. If you think everyone who owns one is the spawn of Satan, go ahead, turn the page. And if you think anyone who can actually pronounce the word “control” is a worthless, bleeding heart nutcase, go ahead, turn the page.
 
For the rest of you, could we have a conversation?
 
If so, we will at least be ahead of the Florida state legislature who voted overwhelmingly this week not even to allow a conversation. Not even a conversation – because you know how dangerous it is for grown adults, elected to serve the common good, to have conversations. That courageous and visionary decision was made as the rest of the world was being inspired by the young people from Parkland, who had just survived the latest round of our homegrown, signature terror.
 
Heart-broken, outraged, chests pounding in breathless fear from their lucky or fateful escape, the sound of that brutal, battlefield machine still ringing in their ears, these students spoke with eloquence and power.  And one teenager’s protest sign spoke for all: “Why are we being the adults?”
 
If you’re still reading, for their sakes let’s be the adults: this was not mental illness.
 
Recently mental health experts have been borrowing the phrase, shouted repeatedly at one of those high school rallies: “We call BS on this!” Studies show that only a small minority of mentally ill patients are violent. While many of our now-infamous mass killers were undoubtedly distressed, depressed, unstable, unhinged, most were not actually “mentally ill” when they started shooting.
 
If you’re still reading, for their sakes let’s be the adults: this was not a failure of protocol.
 
Yes, the FBI admitted they missed some signals, but the local authorities had already visited that teenager multiple times, and he still became a crazed gunman. Yes, on a YouTube post he claimed, “I’m going to be a professional school shooter,” but the first amendment is as constitutional as the second. Are we really going to arrest everyone who says something stupid on social media?
 
If you’re still reading, for their sakes let’s be the adults: this was not about background checks or assault weapons bans.
 
Yes, it hardly seems unreasonable to do a simple background check on anyone who buys any kind of gun, anywhere, anytime. It only makes sense to improve that system. One would think it would be at least as difficult to buy a military-grade weapon as a handgun – but the opposite is the case. Some avid gun owners even agree that if you want an AR15, you ought to “sign up and serve your country” – but even with a complete ban on assault weapons, anyone who wants one badly enough will find a way.
 
If you’re still reading, for their sakes let’s be the adults: surely we cannot believe that arming our teachers is the answer.
 
Yes, if every teacher in Parkland had owned a gun, Nikolas Cruz might be dead today – but he would not be the only one. If a crazed gunman knows teachers are armed, you can imagine who has the first target on her head when he starts unloading a magazine in her classroom. I heard an “expert” say recently that the most important thing we can do is concentrate on the first five minutes AFTER the gunman starts killing our kids. Really? Are we that powerless? Are we that ready to admit defeat, to concede that the best thing we can do is kill the lunatic before he kills too many of our children?
 
If you’re still reading, for their sakes let’s be the adults. 

After so many of these tragedies it ought to be obvious that the problem we have is not a mental health problem, not a gun control problem, not a policy problem, not a response problem. But if we are talking like adults, we owe it to ourselves to be honest: we just have too many guns.
 
So, please, don’t just turn the page.
 
I didn’t say I don’t believe in the Second Amendment. I didn’t say you can’t own a gun. I didn’t say policies aren’t necessary. I didn’t say I hate the police or the military. I didn’t say laws aren’t important or can’t make some difference. I just said when there are 300 million guns in the country, anyone who wants a gun, of any kind, to be owned for any reason, will have one – no matter who they are, no matter the laws, no matter our preparedness for response.
 
Until we can admit the obvious, nothing will change. But when we have the courage to admit the obvious, adults acting like adults will be able to have a conversation about what we can do to let reasonable people own reasonable guns for reasons that make sense. That conversation will allow us to slowly change the mentality of violence, that has always only led to more violence. Until we can be honest, and act like the adults our kids need us to be, there will be no end to our madness. We’ll just have more…
 
Guns.
 

A Prayer for Parkland

The following is the Prayer of Intercession given by Amy Jacks Dean during worship services at Park Road Baptist Church on Sunday February 18th.

Gracious God, we pray this day for the 17 who have died. We pray for their mothers and fathers and siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins and spouses and children and friends and teachers - may they know your comfort and care.

May they know your presence to hold them close.

We pray for the one who carried a gun into a school and started shooting and who now sits in jail.

We pray for the SWAT team who charged in risking their very own lives to save others.

We pray for first responders who jumped into action to save the lives of those wounded.

We pray for the eye witnesses who have seen things they cannot ever unsee.

We pray for the almost 3000 students at that high school in Florida who were and are terrified AND for all of the students and parents and teachers across our land in every school who are afraid. May they hear your constant call: Fear Not. Though it seems impossible.

We pray for teenagers who are finding their voice and speaking their anger in protest. May their tribe increase.

Do we dare pray for our politicians who will largely be charged to DO SOMETHING! Yes. We. Do. Dare. Give them your Wisdom and Guidance and Strength and Compassion to DO SOMETHING.

Gracious God, help us to stop speaking and posting in extremes. Help us to stop thinking in "all or nothing" categories. You have made us with more creativity than that. When we hunker down in the extremes we get no where. And we need to get somewhere. Please, O God, help us function out of your Love, your Grace, and your Mercy.

May our "thoughts and prayers" lead us to action, may our "thoughts and prayers" call us to change; may our "thoughts and prayers" lead us to creativity; may our "thoughts and prayers" call us to listen; may our "thoughts and prayers" lead us to speak out; may our "thoughts and prayers" lead us to Remember.

Amen.

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(Photo by Greg Lovett / The Palm Beach Post)