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After seeing the images of the Capitol being occupied, watching and listening to commentators of various stripes share their thoughts on the day, and reading social media posts from various friends, I wanted to share a few thoughts of my own.  I write as someone who has been engaged in politics for multiple decades, and who has sincere and considered political beliefs.  I also write as a Christian, someone who takes my faith seriously, and looks to the Author of that faith to guide my beliefs and behavior.  That being said, I have no desire to preach or lecture, only to respond to what I consider dangerous or misguided opinions, and to share with my children and others who have asked how I navigate some of these issues.

First, it should go without saying that lawlessness and violence are wrong.  They are wrong when left-wing riots lead to destroyed businesses and property, bloodshed and crime.  They are equally as wrong when right-wing violence leads to property damage, fights, bloodshed and crime.  The temptation is to immediately say the “other side” is worse, but we should be able to speak out and condemn lawlessness no matter the motives of the criminal, whether “our” side or “theirs.”

This leads to a related and underlying point, something that occurs “upstream” of the political violence, so to speak.  We need to maintain our principles, regardless of which “side” we’re on, or who we support.  Is it wrong for a BLM or Antifa rally to spiral into a riot?  Then it’s just as wrong for a Trump rally to do the same.  Is it wrong for someone to demonize or call you names because they disagree with you?  Then it’s wrong for you to do the same to them.  It becomes a vicious cycle of tit for tat, insult for insult, violence for violence.  Unless we’re willing to rise above it and break the cycle, it will continue getting worse.

I’m struck at the similarities between many of the people, who would likely consider themselves “opponents” in many senses, who have engaged in protests during the past several months.  The Black Lives Matter movement, and the surrounding racial justice issues, arise from a feeling that “the system” is stacked against African-Americans, that their voices and lives are not as valuable as others, and that the media, the justice system, the political and economic leaders, and their fellow citizens do not value them.

But many of the people rallying for Trump say the same things.  They believe the political and economic leaders have stacked the system against them and their values, the media holds them in contempt, that they can’t trust the courts, no one listens to them, they need to unite and demonstrate to air their concerns and grievances.  Their rights, their economic well-being, their futures and values and lives are at risk unless they do something to call attention to their plight.

And this feeling of distrust in mainstream institutions and voices leads both sides to gravitate toward their own echo chambers, where they speak to like-minded sympathizers, amplifying and repeating the grievances that they share, and which their enemies exacerbate.  We’re not sure who to trust, who to listen to, or where to find the truth.  We cluster online, on our news channels and podcasts, on blogs and social media, in churches and communities, with people who agree with us, and we lament that those who disagree don’t understand, and often hold us in contempt.

This crisis of trust leads many of us to sources of news and truth that filter all facts through a narrow worldview, so that people on each side of a political disagreement can look at the same video and interpret it completely differently.  Facts become debatable.  We lose the capacity to dispassionately interpret events and statements ourselves, and succumb to groupthink and confirmation bias, where our beliefs become the ultimate lens through which we interpret the world.  This is understandable to some degree; we all have a worldview, opinions, backgrounds and beliefs that help us make sense of the world.  But if we lose the ability to acknowledge truth, and even facts become debatable, then we are no longer reasonable, wise interpreters of the world around us: we are easily manipulated and deceived by propaganda that confirms our biases.

It becomes much easier to believe conspiracy theories when we approach the news in this fashion.  We believe the election was stolen, or that racist police seek to gun down black people on a regular basis. We believe that liberals will persecute Christians, or that conservatives don’t care about old people or minorities. “You hate immigrants.” “You hate business owners.”  “You’re a socialist.” “You’re a fascist.” By cherry-picking examples, it’s easy to construct a narrative to support nearly any position we hold.  But if we start with the position, and work backwards to find facts to support it, we run the risk of only confirming our side of an argument.  Christians know this scriptural danger as “proof-texting,” where we start with a belief and find Bible verses to support it, rather than letting scripture, in its totality, speak to us.

It is a way of shortcutting honest, rational thinking. If all these people are saying what I think, it must be true.  Even if just as many, or more, are saying the exact opposite.  In fact, I may use that opposition to confirm the righteousness of my position, because it proves that the right people disagree, which means the people saying what I think are standing for truth against the lies of the majority.  Again, a vicious cycle of groupthink.  The disagreement proves that “those” people are evil liars, and the voices agreeing with me are fighting the good fight. 

This demonization is a dangerous outgrowth of this way of thinking.  It is not enough that you and I disagree on which candidate to elect, or the proper size of the budget, or how much money to spend on welfare, or our respective policies on social issues.  It becomes an existential battle between good and evil, where my beliefs are not merely what I believe to be correct, right, factual, or beneficial: they are primarily true and good, and opposing views are not merely misguided, wrong, false, or harmful, but fundamentally lies and evil.  If I am good and you are evil, I owe you nothing: no respect, no reason to listen to your ideas or views, no benefit of the doubt or kindness.  Evil needs to be vilified, called out, exposed, crushed, defeated, eliminated.  You wouldn’t negotiate with Hitler, you would defeat him.  You wouldn’t listen to someone doing the devil’s work, you would despise and silence them.

And yet, for the most part, most people are not evil.  Maybe they are wrong about issues, maybe they are misguided, maybe they genuinely believe something is true that is false, maybe their ideas would make things worse.  But politics and religion are rarely zero-sum games, where everything is black-and-white and easily divided into morally unambiguous categories.  You may genuinely believe in the rights of the unborn, the right to bear arms, and the economic benefits of low taxes and decreased regulations.  Someone who votes for a different candidate may genuinely believe that their candidate will do more to fund social programs, education and the like.  You both may genuinely feel that you are right and the other person is wrong, politically as well as morally.

But labeling that person evil is dangerous.  It prevents reasoned debate and discourse, it shuts down the possibility of negotiation, of persuasion and the common good.  By all means, we should advocate for our beliefs.  But demonizing our opponents makes it easier to ignore them, silence them, mock them, call them names, shame them, shun them.  I believe many Trump supporters were more taken with his ability to “own” the media and the liberals, than they were with his specific policies.  His words and behavior, though crass, were directed at the “enemy,” so it was excused.  We can be better than that.  As Americans, our political system demands that we be better than that. As Christians, it is important to remember that how we speak and reason with others can be as important as which issues we support.

So, how do we negotiate the interactions, conversations and debates roiling our country and churches today? While an imperfect thinker on these things, here are a few thoughts on handling these tinderbox issues.

• Take a step back.  For many of us, politics have become too important.  Are there serious issues? Absolutely.  But if we find ourselves angrily denouncing and demonizing anyone who doesn’t share our opinions, we need to examine whether our attitude is appropriate, not just our beliefs. We cannot let our passions overwhelm our reason. Or our witness.  And sometimes (most of the time), it’s probably better to talk much less, and listen much more. Read a book, take a walk, think and meditate, speak when necessary, listen when we’re not speaking.
• Lean into our reason, moderation, and patience, not just our sincerely held beliefs.  The temptation is to render snap judgements, accusations, and opinions, often before we have the facts or understand others’ motives and beliefs.  Again, we can easily see this when our opponents do it, but we often have a blind spot when we do it ourselves.  For example, some would say the BLM advocates jumped to conclusions about what transpired in a police encounter, based on a brief video clip, rumors, or previous beliefs about police encounters with black suspects.  And yet, when Trump supporters stormed the Capitol building, the same people were quick to blame Antifa, propagate conspiracy theories about the identities of the participants, absolving people who think like “us” of blame, and seeking confirmation that “we” aren’t as bad as “them.”  But there are bad actors all over the political spectrum, who deserve condemnation from all quarters.  And we need to be quick to listen, eager to learn, slow to accuse and blame, and patient and moderate in our attitudes.  Excusing bad behavior because of the seriousness of the issue at hand (“riots and violence are necessary because of historical oppression and injustice;” “but the election was stolen;” “our rights are at stake”) is a dangerous game; in fact, the seriousness of the issue often requires more patience, reason and deliberation, because of the risk of inflamed passions spiraling out of control.
• Avoid conspiracy theories.  Yes, it is hard to know who to trust.  Yes, it is maddening how biased some people are, even (especially?) if they are supposed to be neutral sources of news.  Everyone has an agenda and a worldview: Rush Limbaugh, Anderson Cooper, Jake Tapper, Rachel Maddow, Sean Hannity, Trevor Noah, Don Lemon, Jimmy Fallon, Stephen Colbert, LeBron James, Colin Kaepernick, Drew Brees, Alec Baldwin, Bruce Springsteen, everyone who comments on an issue or shares an opinion.  You. Me.  But conspiracies are the refuge of the ill-informed and paranoid.  Believing that only you and those who agree with you have a full grasp of the truth, and that those who disagree are secretly arrayed against you, makes it easy to fall for outlandish claims, outright lies, and dangerous propositions.  So here are a few things I try to do to guard against deceit and untruth:
  • Listen to a range of people. Find voices that are reasonable, mature, and wise, even if they don’t always agree with you. Read widely and deeply.  Go deeper than a tweet or a social media post.  If your entire argument can be reduced to a meme or a bumper sticker, it’s probably not reasoned enough to serve as a foundation for belief.  Practice listening more and speaking less.
  • Be careful of mobs and groupthink.  Echo chambers are breeding grounds for anger, resentment and fringe ideas. If you “win,” it’s easy to believe it’s because you were right, God-ordained, on “the right side of history,” obviously correct because most people agree with you.  If you “lose,” echo chambers are places that foster victimization, shared grievances, an “us against the world” mentality, and the shared solidarity that we are the faithful, righteous few standing against the godless hordes outside the gates.  Groupthink is a shortcut to actual thinking, and susceptible to fringe conspiracies.
    • For example, during the riots (literally while they were happening), people were saying that it was Antifa agitators, not Trump supporters, doing these horrible things.  The thing is, this claim is verifiable.  So as it is announced who was in the Capitol, and they are largely believers in far-right conspiracy theories, this claim is easily refuted.  However, many people today are still saying it, despite the names and beliefs of these people being publicized.  This is wishful thinking, conspiratorial falsehoods that cannot stand up to the actual facts. We need to be slow to speak and accuse, and if we misstate a fact, quick to acknowledge our mistake. Were most of the people protesting looking to violently raid the Capitol? No. Were some on the Right inflamed by violent conspiracy messaging? Yes.  Both things can be true.
  • Beware of those who have “secret” information.  Just as the early Church spent decades battling Gnosticism, the belief that the spiritually elect or enlightened had access to special knowledge and insight, so too do we need to carefully examine those who claim special insight without evidence.  The promise that “inside sources” have said that “massive news” will change everything, or that the smoking gun has been found, or that we need to “stay tuned” for the big reveal or the next announcement, is often nothing more than wishful thinking, or outright lies.  If there is evidence, present it.  There are mechanisms for these things.  The Left did this during the Russian collusion theorizing.  The Right did it during the election aftermath.  And in the same vein, the “think for yourselves, don’t be a sheep, learn to think like us enlightened few that see through the lies” message is equally pernicious.  I’m all for looking deeper.  But speculation and supposition cannot replace evidence.  And the argument that “they” suppress all the evidence, and only a few of us have the insight to interpret things differently than everyone else, is an invitation to creating our own truth.  Be careful, be wise, be rational.  Remember Occam’s razor: the simplest explanation is usually the best.  If our explanation involves millions of moving parts, secrecy on a vast scale, and a lack of evidence, chances are we’re creating our own narrative, not following the facts.
  • Consider how realistic it is to carry out the conspiracy, and what the motives would be of those involved. For example, those upset by the election results should consider that the election was certified in every state, with governors and legislatures of both parties.  Dozens of court cases were brought, in multiple jurisdictions, before numerous judges appointed by politicians of both parties, including Trump himself.  His own Attorney General and Justice Department said there was not fraud on a scale large enough to decide the election.  The claims in court (under oath) were not nearly as dramatic as the claims made on TV or social media. For a conspiracy to unfold, coordinated from the highest levels of government to the individual governors, legislatures, secretaries of state, in multiple courts across the land, joined by politicians of both parties, to “cheat” Trump out of a victory, without anything actually provable in court or to law enforcement, is unlikely at best, and more likely improbable and nearly impossible. Fraud happens, people lie and cheat. But if it were this widespread and pernicious, prove it, or trust the wisdom of the many thousands of people from all parts of the political spectrum who have certified the results.
  • Utilize the proper methods for seeking justice. We should condemn lawlessness on both sides.  We should seek remedy in the institutions tasked with rendering justice.  This will take longer than we like, because the mechanisms move slowly, as they should when life and liberty are at stake.  But these institutions are designed to respond to evidence, reason, and the rule of law, not the latest news cycle.  Police aren’t hunting for black men to kill.  Liberals aren’t rigging voting machines to switch presidential votes from one candidate to another.  If there is evidence that these things do occur, then they need to be dealt with openly, honestly and justly.  And if the institutions themselves fail to work as they should, then we need to engage in the long, slow, necessary work of reforming and improving them, rather than tearing them down or castigating anyone who counsels patience.  Riots and mobs are shortcuts to justice. 
  • Listen and consider opinions that differ from our own. Actively listen to others, with the goal of understanding them, even if we think their ideas are wrong.  We need to encourage discussion, which can’t take place if our first reaction is to minimize or demonize those who disagree.  Listening only to counter another opinion isn’t listening, it’s arguing.  I might not agree with you, but it’s harder for me to consider you an agent of evil if I at least understand why you think and feel the way you do.  And who knows, maybe I’ll actually learn something new and adjust my views.  Hopefully, none of us think the exact same things in the exact same ways, about every single aspect of life, as we did 10, 20, or 50 years ago.  It’s ok to humbly listen and grow.
  • Be careful of casting every disagreement as an epic struggle of good vs. evil.  Most of us believe that what we think is not only true and right, but good.  In our minds we are Superman, Captain America, Martin Luther King, Jr., Thomas Jefferson, Mother Theresa, Saint Peter, or David.  Very few of us intentionally set out to be Lex Luthor, Thanos, Adolf Hitler, Robespierre, Joseph Stalin, Nero, or Goliath.  Many of us care deeply about certain issues, often to the exclusion of other issues that are as equally important to others.  But rather than acknowledging our own blind spots, it is much easier to point out the flaws in everyone else’s thinking, and to remain the heroes of our own stories.  And because we are convinced that we’re doing what is right and good, then it is easy to demonize those who disagree as not just different, or even wrong, but as fundamentally evil.  But sometimes we need to look in the mirror and ask if our blind commitment to our own “heroism” actually makes us the villain at times.

Finally, a word on living out Christian beliefs.  I have strong beliefs regarding my faith, and how to live it out publicly.  My faith informs every aspect of my life: my family and other relationships, my activities, how I conduct myself at work, and my political beliefs.  I also recognize that I live in a democratic republic, a pluralistic society with a multitude of people and viewpoints, and that many people, including other Christians, disagree with me about many things. 

And yet, as a Christian, part of living out my faith is dealing with people, especially those who disagree with me, as Christ would.  This isn’t an exact science, and certainly not always easy or black-and-white. Yet just as Christ told His followers to turn the other cheek, to love their neighbors, and to love and pray for their enemies, we should be guided by the same ethic. If we err on the side of love, what exactly do we lose?  An argument? The satisfaction of “owning” someone or proving them wrong?  How we speak and behave and relate to others is often more indicative of the depth of our faith than whether all of our beliefs are correct.

In fact, I believe that one of the gravest errors Christians have made in the past few decades is reacting with indignation, anger and contempt to our increasingly post-Christian country.  Angrily demanding that non-Christians honor our Christian roots, or adhere to our belief system, or follow our rules, has very little power to convince.  And sadly, we often bypass convincing and move straight to coercion, and we consider any pushback as persecution.  The reality is that when many people outside the church look at the words and actions of Christians, the anti-intellectualism and paranoia, the entitlement and hypocrisy, the lack of grace and humility, it is no wonder that they want no part of Christianity.  Too often they see us and our sins, rather than the King we represent, and the grace He offered us and called us to share with others.

It is all too easy to believe that our righteous anger is a personal calling, sanctioned by God.  In our fidelity to our understanding of God’s Truth, we confuse intellectually assenting to a theological proposition with a true relationship with God, and any disagreement as error or sin.  Once we’re convinced that we are doing the Lord’s work, and that anyone opposed to us is doing the work of the devil, it becomes easy to justify any actions to get our way.  The ends justify the means. It becomes easy to act very un-Christian in the name of Christ.

As Christians, we have an obligation to act with kindness and wisdom.  How we say thing is important, and our goal should be presenting the Good News in a way that invites others to join us on this journey with God.  If we find ourselves more concerned with winning arguments, winning elections, and getting our way, then we are with how we speak and behave, than we need to examine our own hearts. 

The danger of using God to sanction our political beliefs, Right or Left, often compromises our faith more than our politics.  God isn’t a Republican or a Democrat, and I believe faithful servants from all over the political spectrum will worship together in Eternity.  I’m not saying that political beliefs aren’t important, or offering an argument of moral equivalence, but we need to make sure that our political beliefs are not all-important.  If you want America to be a Christian nation, worry less about planting flags in the church and outlawing behavior you disagree with, and more time modelling Christianity to your neighbors.  If you want racial justice, spend less time calling people racists, and more time convincing others of God’s love for all people.  If you want to change hearts and minds, spend less time calling names, “owning” people on Twitter, and clapping at people to punctuate your Facebook posts, and more time listening and responding with compassion, humility, reason and truth.  If you want systemic change, spend less time seeking validation for your concerns in baseless conspiracy theories, and more time doing the hard, dedicated work of learning, advocating, and offering wise and practical solutions.  If you want people to heed the Word of God, spend less time weaponizing Scripture to demonize those who think differently, and more time letting Scripture work in your life to effect change, so that you can carry that change into the world. 

If we want less scenes like we’ve witnessed this year, and more grace and reason, we need to be willing to examine our own attitudes, and our own way of thinking and connecting with the Truth.  We must learn, and practice, the disciplines and arts of reasoning, listening and communicating with grace and humility.  Rather than being slaves to the passions of a Facebook post or a TV commentator, we need to approach the issues of the day with wisdom, discernment, humility, and charity to others.  As Americans, and Christians, it is incumbent on each of us to do our part to elevate the rhetoric and discussions of the day, and to seek genuine engagement and sincere change, not shortcuts to true reform and justice.