In our continuing conversation about finding the middle in American politics, it’s worth repeating something that sometimes gets overlooked: The middle moves. Which is to say, some things we used to think were moderate are now considered extreme or unacceptable, and some things that used to be unthinkable are now right down the middle.
As I mentioned in a previous blog, in the 1860’s in America, the moderate view on slavery was that it should be restricted to certain states. That’s it. Abolition was considered an extreme position. This should not be lightly dismissed. I think it’s important to say out loud that accepting the institution of race-based human trafficking as a major part of American life was considered the middle ground.
Women’s suffrage was an extreme idea until it wasn’t. Women having their own bank accounts was considered extreme until very recently. Same-sex marriage, which is now widely accepted and supported by the large majority of Americans, was considered radical until the last few years.
The middle moves. When we talk about conservativism, liberalism, and centrism – we often speak of these things as if they are fixed, when in fact they are fluid. They may live on a spectrum, but over time the spectrum itself shifts.
It begs the question, What are conservatives trying to conserve? And is it the same thing that conservatives were trying to conserve 50 or 100 years ago? What are liberals trying to liberalize? Is it the same thing liberals were trying to liberalize 50 or 100 years ago?
And of course, most of us do not fit neatly into either of these categories. Some of us do, for sure. We have in the Church of the Redeemer community a fair share of self-described conservatives and liberals. But most people I know are a mixture of conservative and liberal beliefs and values. Most of us are not as easily categorized.
This complexity – and this shifting spectrum of belief and the moving middle – all matters to the context of a religious community. One of the reasons for that is that religious communities are often expected to maintain neutrality, to hold the middle ground, or to make sure we do not express any kind of ideological or political preference. We have been exploring that in recent blogs. Trying to understand our part in the politics of our culture is an ongoing process.
We have a healthy desire to hold space for diversity of opinion and people with a wide variety of political and ideological perspectives. We want to create communities where our common values and goals transcend our differences. Hence the desire for a neutral or middle grounded church.
We cannot always be neutral. We cannot always hold the middle ground. Because we seek to commune with God, and to be obedient to God. And the idea that God is always neutral on matters of community and culture only holds water so long as one does not read or seriously study the Bible or pay any attention to Jesus or his teachings. God is not neutral on the matter of how we treat one another – and this is not just about individual behavior. The covenant God made was with a people – not just a collection of persons – and that covenant was largely about how community was constructed, how a culture was built in real and practical ways.
It must be said, and it must be said so often that it becomes obnoxious, so frequently that you wish you never had to hear it again, that as Christians our primary allegiance is to God. This itself is not some extremist version of Christianity – it’s a basic, foundational understanding of our religion. If we are Christian, we are Christian before we are anything else.
Before I am a capitalist or a socialist, I am a Christian. Before I am a Republican or a Democrat, I am a Christian. Before I am an American, I am a Christian. This the literal point of baptism. Baptism is the claiming of my primary identity. It is God saying to the baptized, before and after you are anything else, you are mine, my creation, my beloved, my redeemed. Baptism makes us part of the Body of Christ, and that supersedes all other identities we may claim.
Now, to be clear, my Christian identity does not erase or nullify all my other identities: But it must needs influence them. There’s nothing inherently wrong with me finding affinity or connection to a specific political party, for me to be inclined toward a specific ideological perspective, for me to love being American. But I must first understand myself as a Christian who is American, not the other way around.
If you want one of these other categories to maintain supremacy over your identity as Christian, don’t get baptized. And if you’re already baptized, you have my sympathy – but the Holy Spirit has already marked you as Christ’s own forever.
I do not at all believe everyone needs to be Christian. I do not believe that God only blesses or loves Christians. But if you call yourself Christian, you should be clear about what you’ve gotten yourself into.
McDonald’s doesn’t sell shovels.
Lowe’s doesn’t sell McFlurrys.
Christians shouldn’t peddle inequity, hatred, injustice, or bigotry. To do so is a denial of our basic identity. This isn’t a matter of public opinion. This doesn’t move with whatever the middle currently is. This is always true.
If we understand the values of Christianity to be the love, peace, and equitable treatment of all humanity – since all people are created in God’s image and all should be honored as such – then we have all sorts of room for disagreement about how to implement those values politically. That’s fine. There’s plenty of room for differences of opinion and ideology within that value system. Disagreement in community is expected. Difference of opinion is healthy.
The cultural spectrum shifts. The middle moves. Our context changes. Our value of seeking and serving Christ in all people does not change. The particulars of how we respond to the world around us may change. Authentic interaction with the world requires flexibility, fluidity, even some doses of ambiguity and uncertainty. So much fundamentalism of every religion and ideology is a fearful response to ambiguity and uncertainty. It is a clutching at certainty, because certainty can feel like safety even when it’s killing you.
But real faith requires us to live much of our lives in ambiguity and uncertainty, looking for the invisible God, listening for the silent God, grasping for the ineffable God in our every day lives is so much of what faith looks like in real time. This is not a bug in the programming of faith – it’s a feature.
And at the same time…
There is something steadfast and changeless about our faith. As Christians we find that in the person of Jesus: In his eternal existence, his presence at creation, his earthly life lived in solidarity with humanity, in his teaching and work, in his death and resurrection, in the community he created to embody the love and mercy of God.
Jesus’ values are clear and they are eternal. They are about the reconciling, humanizing, liberating, live-giving love of every single person. To misquote the old philosopher, it’s love and mercy all the way down.
Love and mercy all the way down.
The middle moves. The truth of your belovedness is unchanging. The middle moves. The utter belonging to God of your neighbor is constant. The middle moves. The divine command to seek and serve God’s image in the person right in front of you is steadfast. The middle moves. The call to bring people in from the margins and to recognize and care for them as one of your own is eternal.
The middle may move, but our responsibility to love and serve one another trumps the vicissitudes of our current situation.
The work is the work. It’s love and mercy all the way down.
