I'm Not Worried About "The Rise of Islam"

Yesterday, I got a text message from an unknown sender, asking if I'd answer a few questions about my county (Randall County, Texas). Texts like this are common enough in a political year. I'd normally ignore them, but something (probably my naturally poor judgment) prodded me to follow the link in the message.

There were only two questions: how did I plan to vote and which among a list of issues was the single most concerning to me. Among the options of mail-in ballots, early voting, absentee, in-person on election day, I chose my preferred method. The second question and the list of issues it listed were mostly standard fare: healthcare, inflation and the rise in the cost of living, gas prices, immigration and border security, reproductive rights, and one that stood out among the others: "the rise of Islam." 

It was a strange thing to list among issues that are objective concerns among Texas citizens, no matter their views on them, and its inclusion hinted at which party was behind the poll. 

I feel an affinity for the adherents of Islam. Our respective doctrines may be separated by a great gulf, but I can relate to anyone whose religion is blamed for social woes by ignorant people with knee-jerk reactions; moreover, I sympathize with anyone who, like me as a Christian, sees their holy text misinterpreted, miscontextualized and villified by those with only a superficial understanding of it.

I am not worried about "the rise of Islam" for two reasons. The first being, I know that Muslim does not equal violent extremist. I'll sleep fine if my apartment complex sees a huge influx of Muslim tenants. The second being, my own faith. How pitifully weak would a Christian's faith have to be for them to live in fear of another doctrine's rise? The Christian who fears Islam bringing the world into subjection forgets that the truth of Christ cannot be diminished - Jesus says of His church, "the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it" (Matthew 16:18). If every Christian on Earth today, except two or three, suddenly converted to Scientology, or deconstructed to a belief in nothing, Christ would be Christ no less, and those two or three would remain His Church.  

We'd do well to remember this when trying to legislate our faith.

The Founding Fathers & Trump's "Big Beautiful Bill"

When I first officially joined my church, my pastor had a talk with the new members in which he stressed that he was "fireable." He reminded us he was accountable to the elders of our church, who held the right to remove him from the position of lead pastor if such a thing should become necessary. My pastor's embracing of this is, to me, among the traits of a true leader. 

President Trump's "Big Beautiful Bill" includes a provision that would make it impossible to charge a president or vice-president with contempt of court when defying a judge's ruling. This would render court decisions mere suggestions. 

In our debates and musings on "what the Founding Fathers would do," none of us can reconcile those men's vision of government with the intention of Donald Trump to be immune and independent of court rulings. He has declared himself above the law, and his executive power to be free from the checks and balances that made our system of government so unique in its inception. 

And, on a more philosophical note, the provision in this bill - which soon heads to the Senate - finds the president declaring himself accountable to no one, his decisions free from resistance, his views and agendas exempt from the principles of basic American government. This provision is Trump's conscious effort to render himself untouchable, and clothe himself in far more power than he already has.

If we support this kind of autocratic action, we no longer have a right to invoke the ideals of America's Founding Fathers in our sociopolitical sermons. 

Jesus & Social Justice

I once read the claim that "If the point of Christianity is not social justice, it is ultimately useless."

The statement in itself is an unfair and quite arbitrary one. It could just as easily be claimed, "If the point of Hinduism isn't the protection of endangered species, it is ultimately useless." In making such a statement, one is burdening a stranger with a moral mission the stranger hasn't agreed to carry.  

But, giving the statement its due response, compelled to carry the Roman soldier's gear for the extra mile, as Jesus' metaphor goes - concerning the question of Christianity and its role in social issues, if I were directly asked, "is the point of being a Christian, a follower of Christ, to further social justice?", I would have to answer, unequivocally, no.

The first reason is, social justice can be easily molded to mean different things for different people. One person or one group's definition of social justice might include or exclude causes and concerns others' societal visions don't. A construct whose definition should be quite clear has, like many things, become subjective: one vision of it could include specific goals like racial equality and closing the income gap, while another's could consist solely of something as vague as "American values." And it would be rather unfair to any religion if one were to claim it must be judged by its dedication, or lack thereof, to American values (whatever those are) - this is in essence what the statement "If the point of Christianity is not social justice, it is ultimately useless" is doing, only measuring it using a different belief system.

A follower of orthodox Christianity does not view Jesus as subjective or open to interpretation. 

The second, and main, reason why following Christ is not simply a means to exact "social justice" is that the role of Christianity in the world is to spread the good news of the eternal salvation given to us by Jesus Christ. This is a clear and simple Biblical tenet. The role of a Christian is not to simply be kind and charitable. Kindness and charity are certainly characteristics of a life lived in Jesus, but they are not the point, the end, or the entire story. Societies are quite sufficient with those who instrumentalize Jesus as a poster boy of sorts for their causes, those who attempt to claim Him as their exclusive means to validate their views - in America especially, we're rife with conservative versions of Jesus, liberal versions, militia versions, apolitical versions, versions with added or subtracted spiritual aspects, and myriad others.

Jesus is not a spokesman we can rent to parrot our messages the way an actor can be paid to promote Pepsi or Dyson vacuums.

But, as for the relationship between Christianity as a religion and concept, and social justice, it has to be said that the desire for social justice is, if one abides in Christ's teachings and commands, an inevitable product of true Christian obedience. One who seeks to obey the inspired Scripture will abhor racism and delight in racial equity and the fight against systemic oppression; one who believes the Bible to be the Divine Word of God will give energy, time and resources to help the impoverished, and to bring attention to the institutions that put the poor under the thumb of a callous society; one who believes Jesus' claim "I am the way, the truth, and the life" will desire a crackdown on police brutality and abuse of legal authority, advocate for fair employment opportunities for recently paroled convicts, and for the rights, dignity, legal counsel, and living conditions of those incarcerated; one who loves Jesus will support better, more affordable healthcare and medical treatment for low-income parents, substance addicts, and mental health patients, no matter their orientation or ideologies. 

Jesus is not the property of nationalist conservatives or militant liberals. He tells us, "My kingdom is not of this world." No God who claims to be as all-powerful and all-knowing as the God of the Bible will be easily put into a box with our visions and versions of social justice, and He certainly can't be made to toe our party lines. The truth of a God as big as our God will contain things in which we find joy and comfort, but also things we hear with dismay and difficulty. 

If I could cram Jesus into my version of social justice, or yours, or anyone else's, I would doubt His divinity and sovereignty. 

"Open your mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy." -Proverbs 31:9

Stop Saying "If You Don't Vote, You Don't Get To Complain"

An argument often used to persuade people to vote is the cliche, "If you don't vote, you don't get to complain!"
Though voting is a great thing that should surely be embraced and exercised, this expression is not the way to win over a cynic, for three reasons:

1. The expression doesn't reflect a love of democracy - only a love of complaining.

2. It tells the potential political proselyte that voting inherently leads to disappointment and, again, complaining. It makes them wonder, "if my vote helps anything, why am I being told I'm sure to be disillusioned and complain?"

3. Sometimes, it makes no sense to complain even if you did vote. For example, in 2012 I voted for President Obama. Later, I was very much against his decision to militarily involve the US in Syria. But, how could I complain? I helped put him in office. My vote helped keep him in the job!

Voting is a right we mustn't take for granted. But, like fear mongering or guilt tripping, some tactics we use to promote that right do more harm than good. Some talking points don't make much sense: we've repeated them so often without really thinking about them. If voting is so important - and it is - our efforts to persuade others to take part in the process mustn't be anchored by angry, shopworn expressions.

* - My vote for Obama only contributed to his re-election in theory - the popular vote doesn't matter much in Presidential elections as long as the Electoral College exists.