WLSU: Christian American
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Last week I insisted that, as a Christian who is American, I must understand myself as Christian first – that my Christian identity supersedes my Americanness. There are, of course, problems with this assertion.
The first problem might just be that it makes me sound like a radical. We are currently in a time when a sizable portion of American leaders are working to remake American culture in a way that devalues and endangers women, minorities, LGBTQ+ persons, and immigrants – and they’re doing it in Jesus’ name. Many of these leaders argue that this is a Christian nation, that it was founded on Christian ideals, and by Christian men. None of those things are actually true, but they have been repeated so regularly that they seem to have seeped into our collective consciousness as being self-evident.
Nevertheless, in Jesus’ name, many Americans are seeking to force their understanding of Christian living on others. I believe this actively goes against who Jesus is and what he teaches. Every time Jesus gets angry in the stories we have of him, it’s because he’s witnessing leaders misuse their religious authority to harm others. Jesus is not a theocrat.
Some people believe that commandment about taking the Lord’s name in vain means you shouldn’t say “Oh my God” or exclaim “Jesus Christ.” But the real blasphemy is harming others in Jesus’ name, using God as the buttress upon which you reinforce your own political power and social standing.
So, when I say American Christians should be Christian first, I’m not condoning making non-Christian Americans believe or live like us.
But it still sounds a bit radical, doesn’t it? To say I’m Christian first?It almost has a combative ring to it. Feels strident. Actually, what it really sounds like is that I’m super-religious, and super-religious people make us uncomfortable if we’re being honest.
So why insist on being Christian first? Maybe it would be simpler to lean on being American. I have many times taken comfort in the notion that, whatever race, religion, or background someone is, we can all share the common identity of being American. We can be united even in our differences. And of course that would comfort me: I am a cisgender heterosexual White Christian man with a spouse, kids, a good job, a lovely house, a split rail fence, a couple of dogs and a station wagon. America was built for my comfort.
I have often wished others would take comfort in their Americanness without thinking for a minute how America has treated them. I believe there are beautiful things about this country – things worth uniting behind. At the same time, I have to take stalk of the times I have been willfully blind to the parts of America’s story that undermine the unifying narrative I love so much.
And this leads us to a harsh reality. Well, it’s harsh for me anyway. Being American and being Christian are not always compatible.
And I’m not talking about how they don’t pray in schools anymore or something like that. My kids go to public school, and I don’t want their teachers leading them in prayer or hanging the ten commandments up. Christians are not persecuted in America. And America isn’t falling apart because it’s departed from Christian values.
When America strives for justice, equity, peace, mutual care, neighborliness, and a sense of sacrificial love for others, being Christian and being American can be compatible.
But when America executes Marcellus Williams, we cannot pretend our values align with Jesus who was himself a victim of capital punishment. When America neglects people experiencing homelessness, we cannot pretend to adore Jesus who was himself homeless. When America demonizes immigrants, we cannot pretend to worship Jesus who was himself a refugee.
This really is a harsh reality for me. Because I grew up believing that to be a good American meant to be a good Christian. But more than that, I assumed that being a good American and being a good Christian were the same thing. It’s not just that I thought they were compatible: I thought they were made for each other. I thought that this was the Promised Land.
See I love this country. But when I say I’m American first, I have to put Jesus in the backseat the moment he becomes inconvenient. And one thing you need to know about Jesus if you didn’t already – Jesus likes being inconvenient. It’s his comfort zone, really.
When I’m an American Christian, I somehow find ways to twist Jesus’ life and teachings to fit my comfort, security, and prosperity. I end up justifying all sorts of things I shouldn’t. When I’m an American Christian, I want to admire Jesus without following him. I want to call Jesus Lord and then go about my day. But Lord means master, means obedience. That means we love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us and clothe the naked and feed the hungry and house the homeless and create communities where all people are seen as bearers of God’s image.
And here’s the thing: I understand America isn’t a Christian nation. So, I don’t actually expect America to do all those things – even if I think they sound amazing and right. But in those moments when my country and my religion are in opposition to one another – it is my responsibility to be honest about that.
And when those roads diverge, if I’m going to live into my Christian vows, I have to walk the way of love. I have to follow Jesus.
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