Why we’re coming apart, and how we might come together again.
New fractures are forming within the American evangelical movement, fractures that do not run along the usual regional, denominational, ethnic, or political lines. Couples, families, friends, and congregations once united in their commitment to Christ are now dividing over seemingly irreconcilable views of the world. In fact, they are not merely dividing but becoming incomprehensible to one another.
Recently, a group of my college friends, all raised and nurtured in healthy evangelical families and congregations, reconnected online in search of understanding. One person mourned that she could no longer understand her parents or how their views of the world had so suddenly and painfully shifted. Another described friends who were demographically identical, who had once stood beside him on practically every issue, but who now promoted ideas he found shocking. Still another said her church was breaking up, driven apart by mutual suspicion and misunderstanding.
“These were my people,” one said, “but now I don’t know who they are, or maybe I don’t know who I am.”
What do you do when you feel you’re losing the people you love to a false reality? What do you do with the humbling truth that they have precisely the same fear about you?
The quandary is not unique to evangelicals. But fellow believers who once stood shoulder to shoulder now find that tectonic shifts have thrust them apart, their continents are separating, and they cannot find a bridge back to common ground. How could our views of reality diverge so dramatically—and is there anything we can do to draw together again?
The plausibility curve and the information curve
Among the most persistent interests of my academic career was the question of how people form beliefs. Not how they should form beliefs, in some idealized vision of perfected rationality, but how they actually form beliefs as embodied creatures embedded in communities and cultures. I want to introduce a simple conceptual tool, influenced in part by the work of Peter Berger, that may help us understand what is happening.
Imagine a horizontal plane that curves downward into a bowl, rises back again, and returns to a horizontal plane. The curve, from one end of the bowl to the other, represents the range of claims an individual finds believable. Let’s call it a plausibility curve. Claims that fall in the center of the curve will be perceived as most plausible; they require little evidence or argumentation before an individual will consent to believe. Claims falling near the edges are increasingly implausible as they deviate from the center, requiring progressively more persuasion. Claims falling entirely outside the plausibility curve are beyond the range of what a person might believe at a given point in time, and no amount of evidence or logic will be sufficient.
What determines the plausibility of a given claim is how well it conforms to what an individual experiences, already believes, and wants to believe. The full range of a person’s beliefs is rather like a photomosaic (see an example here): Thousands of experiences and perceptions of reality are joined together, and out of those thousands emerge larger patterns and impressions, higher-order beliefs about the nature of reality, the grand narratives of history, the nature of right and wrong, good and evil, and so forth. Attempts to change a single belief can feel fruitless when it is embedded in countless others. Where does one begin to address a thousand interlocking disagreements at once? Evidence to the contrary is almost irrelevant when a claim “fits” with an entire network of reinforcing beliefs. This is part of what gives a plausibility curve its enduring strength and resistance to change.
Desire plays a particularly complicated role in the plausibility curve. We may desire not to believe a claim because it would separate us from those we love, confront us with painful truths, require a change in our behavior, impose a social cost, or so on. We may desire to believe a certain claim because it would be fashionable, confirm our prejudices, set us apart from those around us, anger our parents, or for countless other reasons. We will require more persuasion for claims we do not want to believe, and less for those we do.
Like the Overton window in political theory, a plausibility curve can expand, contract, and shift. Friends or family members whose plausibility curves were once identical may find that they diverge over the course of time. Claims one person finds immediately plausible are almost inconceivable to the other. But how does this happen? That’s where the information curve comes in.
Imagine a mirror-image bowl above the plausibility curve. This is the information curve, and it reflects the individual’s external sources of information about the world—such as communities, authorities, and media. Those sources in the center of the information curve are deemed most trustworthy; claims that come from these sources are accepted almost without question. Sources of information on the outer ends of the bowl are considered less trustworthy, so their claims will be held up to greater scrutiny. Sources outside the curve entirely are, at least for this individual, so lacking in credibility that their claims are dismissed out of hand.
The center of the information curve will generally align with the center of the plausibility curve. The relationship is mutually reinforcing. Sources are considered more trustworthy when they deliver claims we find plausible, and claims are considered more plausible when they come from sources we trust. A source of information that consistently delivers claims in the center of the plausibility curve will come to be believed implicitly.
Change can begin on the level of the plausibility curve. Perhaps an individual joins a religious community and finds it is more loving and reasonable than she had expected. She will no longer find it plausible when a source claims that all religious communities are irrational and prejudiced, and this will gradually shift her information curve in favor of more reliable sources. Or another person experiences the loss of a child, and no longer desires to believe that death is the end of consciousness. He is more open to other claims, expands his sources of information, and slowly his beliefs shift.
Change can also begin on the level of the information curve. An individual raised in a certain community with well-established authorities, such as her parents and pastors, goes to college and is introduced to new communities and authorities. If she judges them to be trustworthy sources of information, this new information curve will likely shift her plausibility curve. As her set of beliefs changes, she may even reach a point where the sources that once supplied most of her beliefs are no longer considered trustworthy at all. Or imagine a person who has lived his entire life consuming far-left media sources. He begins to listen to conservative media sources and finds their claims resonate with his experience—only slightly at first, but in increasing measure. Gradually he consumes more and more conservative media, expanding or shifting his information curve, and this in turn expands or shifts his plausibility curve. He may reach a point where his broader perceptions of the world—the deeper forces at work in history, the optimal ways of organizing societies and economies, the forces for good and evil in the world—have been wholly overturned.
Article continues belowConsider the 9/11 Truth movement and the QAnon movement. Most Americans will find the notion that the Bush administration orchestrated a massive terrorist attack in order to invade the Middle East and enrich their friends in the oil industry, or that global liberal elites would construct an international child trafficking operation for the purpose of pedophilia and cannibalism, beyond the bounds of their plausibility curve. Others, however, will find that one conspiracy or the other resonates with their plausibility curve, or their information curve may shift over time in such a way that brings their plausibility curve with it. Claims that once seemed impossible to contemplate came to appear conceivable, then plausible, then reasonable, and finally self-evident. Of course conservatives would sacrifice thousands of innocent lives to justify a “war for oil” because conservatives are greedy and that’s what conservatives do. Of course liberals would sacrifice thousands of children in order to advance their own health and power because liberals are perverse and that’s what liberals do.
As a final definitional note, let’s call the whole structure, the plausibility curve and the information curve, an informational world. An informational world encompasses how an individual or a community of individuals receives and processes information. Differing informational worlds will have differing facts and sources. Our challenge today is that we occupy multiple informational worlds with little in common and much hostility between them.
What does all of this have to do with the evangelical movement? A great deal.
The evangelical crises
The American evangelical movement has never been comprised of a single community. Depending on the criteria, estimates generally put the number of American evangelicals at 80-100 million. Even if we split the difference at 90 million, this would make the American evangelical population larger than every European nation save Russia. It is also diverse, reaching across all regions, races, and socioeconomic levels. What held the movement together historically was not only a shared set of moral and theological commitments, but a broadly similar view of the world and common sources of information. Their plausibility curves and information curves largely overlapped. There were some matters on which they differed, but the ground they shared in the middle served as a basis of mutual understanding and fellowship.
This sense of commonality grew increasingly strained as groups not formerly identified as evangelical came to be lumped together, defining the category “evangelical” less in theological terms and more in social, cultural, and political terms. This broader evangelical movement today is dividing into separate communities that still hold some moral and theological commitments in common but differ dramatically on their sources of information and their broader view of the world. Their informational worlds have little overlap. They can only discuss a narrow range of topics if they do not want to fall into painful and exasperated disagreement.
One group within American evangelicalism believes our religious liberties have never been more firmly established; another that they have never been at greater risk. One group believes racism is still systemic in American society; another that the “systemic racism” push is a progressive program to redistribute wealth and power to angry radicals. One is more concerned with the insurrection at the Capitol; another with the riots that followed the killing of George Floyd. One believes the Trump presidency was generationally damaging to Christian witness; another that it was enormously beneficial. One believes the former president attempted a coup; another that the Democrats stole the election. One believes masks and vaccines are marks of Christian love; another that the rejection of the same is a mark of Christian courage.
There are countless groups in between, of course, but these examples illustrate the tension: We occupy the same reality but starkly different worlds. There is a real question whether these worlds can (or should) draw back together again. This is a critical moment for our movement.
What, then, can be done? The model itself suggests where to start. If we move the information curves toward a common center, the plausibility curve will follow. Information comes through three sources: media, authorities, and community. One reason for our disunity is that these three sources are in crisis in American evangelicalism. I will only briefly outline these points.
First, the crisis of media is acute. Even as media today has grown more powerful and pervasive, it has also grown more fragmented and polarizing. The dynamics of modern media reward content that is immediate, angry, and hyperbolic, rendering the media into a marketplace for scorn sellers and hate merchants. Evangelicals find themselves torn between social media platforms and legacy media sources that openly advocate progressive causes and cancel conservative voices and far-right sources that traffic in paranoia and misinformation. In short, the digital media landscape has evolved to profit from our vices more than our virtues, and it has become incredibly effective at dividing audiences into hermetic media spheres that deliver only the information and commentary that confirms the audiences’ anxieties and antipathies.
This presents an extraordinary challenge for Christian discipleship. Media consumption has been climbing for years, and it soared amid the pandemic. Members of our congregations may spend a few hours a week in the Word of God (which should always be the Christian’s most important source of information and authority) but 40 hours or more mainlining the animosities of the day. Once the information curve begins a leftward or rightward drift, the algorithms of digital media and the manipulations of politicians and profiteers accelerate the momentum. Soon Christian communities that once shared a broader view of the world find they only agree on the bare essentials of faith. It will be difficult to address other parts of the information curve until we have brought some semblance of sanity into our media consumption. The longer we live in separate media worlds, the deeper and broader our divisions will become. The longer we give ourselves to media gluttony, skimping on the deeper nourishment that cultivates Christ within us, the less we will have in common.
The media crisis reaches across the whole of society, but the evangelical movement also faces an authority crisis of its own making. A generation of evangelical leaders who commanded immense respect, at least across the broad middle of American evangelicalism, have passed away. The current generation of evangelical institutional leaders, though markedly more diverse than their forebears, struggle to rise above the rampant ideological othering of our time. Moreover, the movement has seen countless leaders fall from grace in spectacularly destructive ways. At the same time, we have seen the rise of the celebrity pastor. It was once the case that a long obedience in the same direction, a life of humble study and service, earned a person a modicum of spiritual authority and a modest living. Today, a dashing profile and a talent for self-promotion can earn wealth and stardom in the Christian celebrity marketplace.
The consequence is disillusionment and division. While younger generations head for the exits, those who remain in our churches become further entrenched in their own ideological camps. If it is ever to be true again that broadly respected authorities form an important part of our shared information curve, it will be because we turn from a culture of celebrity to a culture of sanctification, where leadership is less about building a platform and more about carrying the cross of Christ. It will be because we remember the words of Jesus that “whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant” (Matt. 20:26). It will also be because we relearn how to listen to men and women of wisdom, leaders as well as neighbors, without crucifying them over political differences.
The third way to shift the information curve is to address our crisis of community. Community is essential to Christian life. It deepens our knowledge of the Word, forges our shared identity in Christ, cultivates Christian character, and disciples our young. Yet the pressures, temptations, and glowing distractions of contemporary life have strained the ties that bind us, replacing the warmth and depth of incarnate community with a cold digital imitation. The pandemic has only deepened our isolation, causing many to look outside their churches to political tribes or conspiracist communities for a sense of purpose and belonging. Further, the hyper-politicization of the American evangelical movement has led to a political sorting. Congregants who do not like their pastors’ stances depart for other churches whose politics are the same as theirs. But congregations comprised of individuals whose informational worlds are nearly identical will tend toward rigidity and increasing radicalism—what Cass Sunstein calls the Law of Group Polarization.
Rather than withdrawing into communities of common loathing, the church should be offering a community of common love, a sanctuary from the fragmentation and polarization, from the loneliness and isolation of the present moment. The church should model what it means to care for one another in spite of our differences on social and political matters and affirm the incomparably deeper rootedness of our identity in Christ.
Michael O. Emerson, a sociologist and scholar of American religion at the University of Illinois at Chicago, recently said he has studied religious congregations for 30 years but has “never seen” such an extraordinary level of conflict. “What is different now?” he asked. “The conflict is over entire worldviews—politics, race, how we are to be in the world, and even what religion and faith are for.” What I have offered above is a model for understanding how we have come to such a pass, and a mere suggestion of how we might begin the generational project before us.
We are not without hope. Lies ring hollow at the end of the day. Hatred is a poor imitation of purpose, celebrity a poor replacement for wisdom, and political tribes a poor comparison to authentic Christian community. We are a people defined by the resurrection of the Son of God. We are called to be redeemers and reconcilers.
So perhaps we can begin to build bridges across our informational worlds. Perhaps we can nurture a healthy media ecosystem that offers a balanced view of the world and a generous conversation about it. Perhaps we can restore a culture of leadership defined by humility over celebrity and integrity over influence. Perhaps we can invite those who have found counterfeit community in their political tribes to rediscover a richer and more robust community in Christ. All of these things will be essential to rebuilding a shared understanding of the world God created and what it means to follow Christ within it.
Under Attack from Fundamentalist Pirates, Evangelical Baptists Refused to Give Up the Ship
In Nashville, Evangelicals clashed with toxic fundamentalists—and Evangelicals prevailed
If I had to summarize a complicated, important week at the Southern Baptist Convention’s meeting in a single sentence, it would be this: In a series of contentious confrontations, the nation’s largest Protestant denomination confirmed that it is (for now) more Evangelical than fundamentalist. And that outcome is good news for the church and the nation.
To explain what I mean, let me back up a moment and define my terms. It’s important to understand what “Evangelical” really means, and that requires going back to pre-exit poll Christianity.
How did exit polls corrupt our definitions? When most Americans think of the term “Evangelical,” they’re not thinking so much as a set of theological presuppositions but rather of the sub-group of Americans who respond “yes” to an exit-poll question, a very imprecise exit-poll question. For example, here it is, in 2020:
The problems with the question are obvious. Immediately you lose any sense of the racial diversity of American evangelicalism. Black and Hispanic Evangelicals are lost in “all others,” and they’re far more politically diverse than white Evangelicals. In addition, the question papers over tremendous differences within “evangelical” and “born-again” Christianity itself.
Thus, the word “Evangelical” became primarily a political category, obscuring the historical meaning of the term and eradicating a distinction that is still deeply salient within American Christianity—the cultural, theological, and political difference between evangelicalism and fundamentalism.
I grew up in fundamentalism. I converted to evangelicalism. The difference is profound but often opaque to those who are outside the “born again” (rather than Mainline) Protestant tradition. After all, both the fundamentalist and Evangelical branches of “born again” Christianity believe in the authority of scripture. Both branches are generally politically conservative. That’s why it’s just wrong to frame the differences between the two as “right versus left” or “conservative versus liberal” or much less as a battle between “conservative versus ‘woke.’”
Instead, I’d frame the difference in a number of different ways—“grace versus law,” or perhaps “open-hearted versus closed-minded.” In an earlier newsletter, I described fundamentalists as possessing “fierce existential certainty.” The fundamentalist Christian typically possesses little tolerance for dissent and accepts few sources of truth outside of the insights that can be gleaned directly from the pages of scripture.
As I’ve argued before, I don’t think you can understand the far-left or the far-right without understanding fundamentalism:
Far-left fundamentalism often manifests itself in the illiberal zeal of the so-called “Great Awokening.” It’s a secular version of the religious intensity of the far religious right, rejecting alternative worldviews with the same ferocity that religious fundamentalists reject secular sources of truth.
You can often distinguish fundamentalism by its emphasis on righteousness and its obsession with the idea that compromise anywhere is compromise everywhere. That’s a key reason internal arguments are so ferocious. Give an inch on young earth creationism, and you’re abandoning scripture. Give an inch on, say, the “the extent to which we can benefit from secular psychology in biblical counseling,” and you’re declaring that scripture is insufficient as a guide for life and faith.
Because compromise is so catastrophic, fundamentalism often manifests itself in Christian politics through a series of moral panics, where issues assume apocalyptic importance. Teach evolution in schools, and we’ll face God’s wrath. God abandoned our nation when we lost school prayer. Gay marriage is the point of no return. Critical race theory threatens the foundations of the church and the republic.
Evangelicals will often share the fundamentalist’s cultural concerns (which is why the distinction between fundamentalism and Evangelicalism is often opaque to those outside the church), but not their political or cultural intensity, nor their apocalyptic fears. Evangelicalism more readily embraces doubt and difference. It is more open to sources of knowledge outside the church.
To stick with the critical race theory example for a moment, the Southern Baptist Convention’s 2019 Resolution 9 on CRT and intersectionality is a classically Evangelical document. It states that “general revelation accounts for truthful insights found in human ideas that do not explicitly emerge from Scripture.” Yet it also declares the truth that “critical race theory and intersectionality should only be employed as analytical tools subordinate to Scripture.”
In other words, while there are things Christians can learn from critical race theory, scripture is still supreme. When CRT conflicts with scripture, then scripture rules.
The fundamentalist rejects this framework. Just as with secular psychology, secular concepts like CRT—springing often from non-Christian scholars—are deemed corrupt to their core. There is nothing we can learn from them that we can’t learn by applying scriptural principles, and thus must be rejected, root and branch.
Moreover, in part because Evangelicals are more comfortable with doubt and difference, they’re often more ecumenical and less prone to see doctrinal differences as dealbreakers for cooperation and fellowship. My introduction to evangelicalism, for example, occurred at my law school Christian Fellowship, where Baptists worshiped side-by-side with believers from virtually every Protestant denomination and tradition.
In my fundamentalist upbringing, many of our leaders wouldn’t have labeled that gathering “Christian.” They would have labeled it a misbegotten fellowship of the lost.
Few fundamentalists are quite that exclusive now, but you can see why fundamentalists often express a deep discomfort with pluralism and experience a constant sense of emergency. Someone is always pulling on a thread of the faith somewhere, and pull hard enough on any thread, and you risk unraveling the entire fabric. Political disputes assume outsize importance. Political differences become intolerable.
Evangelicals often also have a higher view of grace than fundamentalists. They emphasize God’s grace more than God’s rules and are more prone to focus on God’s mercies than God’s judgment.
To see the difference, I’m going to quote below one of the most famous passages in all of scripture—the story of the woman caught in adultery—and I’m going to bold the most salient words to the Evangelical and italicize the most salient words to the fundamentalist:
But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him, and he sat down and taught them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”
Evangelicals and fundamentalists both believe every word of the scripture above, but the Evangelical pastor will often emphasize that while sin is real, no sin is beyond the grace of God. The fundamentalist pastor will often emphasize that while grace is real, don’t doubt for a moment that God hates sin. “Sin no more” were the last words, and thus the core operative command.
Is this too much background? Not at all! There’s one last thing—while fundamentalist influences wax and wane in born-again Christianity (indeed, in most faiths), they often grow in strength in times of social conflict and cultural upheaval.
Do you wonder why legalistic “purity culture” grew in influence in the 1990s? Buffeted by the sexual revolution, families sought certainty and security. Purity culture beckoned with a clear, easy-to-understand path to righteousness and a (presumed) formula for a healthy, happy marriage.
Moreover, the emphasis on single issues and big battles appeals to a certain “hold the line” heroic mindset. It speaks to the heart of those who are drawn to strong stands and dramatic fights. At the risk of nerding out, think of Captain Jean-Luc Picard in this famous dialogue in Star Trek: First Contact:
Before the SBC meeting, perhaps the most insightful preview of the coming conflicts came from my friend Trevin Wax. He identified three big questions that divide Baptists:
- Do Southern Baptist churches unite primarily around doctrinal consensus or missional cooperation?
- Should we engage secular sources of knowledge with a fundamentalist or an Evangelical posture?
- How politically aligned must Southern Baptists be in order to cooperate together?
Note how each either explicitly (in question 2) or implicitly centers around the fundamentalist/Evangelical divide. And how were those questions answered? In virtually every case, the SBC took the Evangelical approach.
First and foremost, in its presidential election, it rejected the more-fundamentalist, culture war candidate of the far-right Conservative Baptist Network, Mike Stone. It also rejected Al Mohler, the legendary head of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Mohler isn’t just a seminarian, he’s a leading cultural commentator who consistently takes on the left in matters large and small.
Instead, the convention narrowly elected Ed Litton, a man known far more as a pastor than a culture warrior and who is also known for his efforts at achieving racial reconciliation within the SBC. It also left Resolution 9 intact, failed to adopt any clear condemnation of CRT, and it watered down a pro-life abolitionist resolution that would have wholly rejected any incrementalist approaches to ending abortion.
To understand the magnitude of these votes, black SBC pastor Dwight McKissic tweeted this (he had previously threatened to leave the denomination):
In short, as I wrote last week, fundamentalist Baptists charged into Nashville behind pirate flags pledging to “take the ship.” They failed.
The reasons are many and complex, but this explanation—also from Pastor McKissic—resonates:
It’s also true that leaders like outgoing president J.D. Greear courageously stood and fought, with the conviction all too many fundamentalists claim that Evangelicals lack, for an inclusive SBC that is dedicated to racial reconciliation, abhors sexual abuse, and rejects political litmus tests:
Greear called on white Southern Baptists to “stand with their brothers and sisters of color as they strive for justice.”
He also implored Black and Hispanic pastors not to give up on the denomination as it works through its struggles.
“To our leaders of color, many of you are struggling to stay in a convention you think cares little about you: we need you,” Greear said to a standing ovation. “There is no way we can reach our nation without you.”
More:
Greear also lamented the reputation the SBC has gained as a political organization.
It’s never good when that happens, he explained. “Anytime the church gets in bed with politics, the church gets pregnant, and the offspring does not look like our Father in heaven.”
And he decried not just partisan litmus tests but also the cruelty of political combat:
The exaggeration and lies many of our entity leaders have had to respond to, it makes us smell like death even when our theology is squeaky clean. I hear from Latinos and African Americans wondering why they would want to be part of this fellowship.”
It has to stop, he said. “We are great commission Baptists. We have political leanings. But we are not the party of the elephant or the donkey. We are the people of the lamb.”
The SBC not only reconfirmed its commitment to racial unity, it also took a decisive stand against sexual abuse. The “messengers” (delegates) to the convention decisively rejected the Executive Committee’s attempt to control the investigation into allegations the committee mishandled allegations of sexual abuse.
Instead, as Baptist News reports, they voted to “wrest control of the already announced investigation from the Executive Committee and put it in the hands of a task force to be named by new SBC President Ed Litton.”
That vote lead to a powerful moment—when survivors of sexual abuse embraced after years of courageous advocacy. At long last, transparency and accountability seemed possible:
The SBC meeting represented a victory—especially for those who (to quote one Baptist pastor) hoped to see the convention become “conservative in our convictions but liberal about our love.” But it’s a victory in a battle, not the conclusion of the war. The closeness of the presidential election was a symbol of the strength of fundamentalism, and further cultural conflict and cultural upheaval may strengthen it more still.
But J.D. Greear is right—no church should define itself as the “party of the elephant or the donkey,” and the more that any church does, the more that political disputes will assume apocalyptic importance, the more that American intolerance will grow, and the more that Christians will confuse the pursuit of the biblical justice (which every Christian should seek) with the pursuit of Christian power, which history has shown is often wielded in oppressive and punitive ways.
A healthy American culture needs a healthy church, whether that church leans left or right. As John Adams famously declared, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious People. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.”
He knew that “religious” did not always imply “moral.” By standing with victims of sexual abuse, by defeating the effort to turn the SBC into an adjunct of a thoroughly Trumpist GOP, and by standing against racial division, in a crucial moment the SBC gave the nation hope that a commitment to a faith carries with it a commitment to morality, and that morality can be centered in both justice and grace.
One more thing …
I want to show you concretely what it means to differentiate between open-hearted evangelicalism and furious fundamentalism in American politics—and to show that while a battle was won, the war rages on.
First, here’s Dana McCain at the SBC, speaking about her pro-life convictions with courage and with compassion.
Next, here’s the apocalyptic rage of intolerant, illiberal Christians on full display while they vent their fury at a former vice president whose “sin” was drawing the line at destroying the republic in his service to Donald Trump:
In the collision between these worldviews, I know exactly which one needs to prevail.
One last thing …
Ok, this is an old classic, but JJ lives in my neighborhood, and I ran into her just the other day. She and her husband are delightful folks, and this song is just a wonderful expression of the grace that drew me out of fundamentalism and into the faith is centered around the marvelous mercy of the cross:
Christian Evangelicals and Trump | William R. Black & John Fea
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talking about the rabid Pro Trumper you48:34know the48:35you know the poll of whites of the world48:38Paula white I think firmly believes that48:40he’s a Christian and and God is using48:42him as a Christian to carry out you know48:46the purposes of the gospel or the church48:49in the world there’s others for example48:51someone like Robert Jeffress from the48:55pastor of the First Baptist Church in48:56Dallas or even Franklin Graham the son49:00of the evangelist Billy Clayton49:02evangelist Billy Graham who would say49:04sure Trump has his problem sure Trump is49:06a sinner I don’t know if Trump has49:08accepted Jesus as his Savior or not but49:12God like Cyrus God uses imperfect people49:17to carry out his plan so so they would49:22say it really does you know they would49:23say really doesn’t matter whether49:25Trump’s a Christian or not he is faith49:28friendly and God is using him in this49:31kind of incredible way God uses sinners49:34and God uses you know people who you49:39know have these corrupt lives or immoral49:41eyes to carry out his purposes God’s49:43ways are not our ways would be the49:45arguing and while we well we would think49:48that it should be a godly Christian49:50leader to help us sometimes God has49:52other plans would be the idea here so so49:55you get you got a kind of mixed mixed49:58views on that depending on which pro50:00Trump evangelical you talk to but you50:04know and I minded I grew up hearing a50:06lot of people who were evangelicals50:08saying something those basically the50:10reverse about Jimmy Carter were there50:13where they would completely grant thatJimmy Carter was was a you know anddevout then but even even argue that hewas a bad president because he was agood Christian to be a good presidentbecause he was done you know kick assand take names I guess I don’t know50:31you’ve encountered during Carter Carter50:34is interesting because evangelicals did50:36flock to him in 1976 you know he might50:40stop supporting that just ants they50:42voted for Carter in 76 and 8050:45I mean an aphid errol’s Ford50:49seventy-six claimed to be some kind of50:51an evangelical Christian too so that’s50:52very interesting but the Carter was so50:54kind of authentic right he he he talked50:57about being born again50:59even his even his uh even his statement51:02about like being tempted to lust from51:04you know from women you know was was it51:09appealed to certain evangelicals right51:11you know that this guy’s honest truly he51:13meant they knew at length nobody and I51:16think I think what happened was when51:19Carter several things I mean one just51:22you know you can’t count out the economy51:24you know the recession and so forth also51:27Carter just did not deliver on the51:29things that evangelicals hoped he would51:32we talked earlier about the green calmlyto Bob Jones case Jimmy Carter supportedto Bob the supreme court on that hewanted to desegregate these academiesand this this you know there wasopposition that emerged almostimmediately to Carter when it didn’tlook like he would deliver on abortionoverturn roe v– wade you know try totry to try to keep the keep thesegregation in place in these academiesso uh you know this is where Falwell andothers so many of you know the storymany our listeners will own story thisis where Falwell and others kind of sayno we thought this guy was was one youknow was going to help our moral causeand he doesn’t seem to be doing it so uhso yeah Carter’s a car is a fascinatingcharacter I think it’s probably you knowit’s probably true to say the fact thathe tried to actually live out a kind ofauthentic evangelicalism probably did uhyou know hurt his his presidency I meanhe has that famous 1979 malaise speechin wrench you know he says we are a52:36nation that is self-centered selfish we52:40only care about each other we don’t52:41think about the common good you know and52:43then Reagan comes in and just says you52:45know do whatever you want right52:47individualism freedom right you know52:50freedom of religion they love these52:52kinds of things no I felt this message52:55of self-discipline that Carter puts52:57forth which you know is this52:59authentically Christian message but you53:01know that’s I think53:02says a lot about the evangelical53:04electorate as well I have one more53:07question that you will wrap up but I I53:12know you know there’s been debates in53:15the Democratic Party about you know53:17what’s the right calculus to to defeat53:21Trump in 2020 and you know one sidebar53:27in that debate is how much should they53:30try and win over people who voted for53:33Trump yeah yeah and a part of that is53:38you know it is it worth trying to talk53:41to some evangelicals to vote for Trump53:43and to appeal to them you know appeal to53:49their values there professor53:52what do you think about that yeah yeah I53:55mean I wrote a whole book about this so53:57I hope yours I hope there’s a53:59possibility but I see I see those54:01eighty-one percent as as very you know54:03there’s there’s diversity within that 8154:05percent one of the things I worry about54:07with this with the media is that they54:09don’t see the diversity of 81 percent54:12that 81 percent includes the rabid Trump54:16supporters who are evangelicals the54:18people who go to the rallies the people54:20who supported this guy in the primaries54:22when there were other options54:24the GOP primaries the people who wear54:26the manga hats you know I mean there’s a54:29lot of Evangelicals you know I remember54:30I remember when Trump came to Harrisburg54:33Pennsylvania I’m watching the news54:36coverage on it at night you know local54:37news coverage and you know I see like54:40four or five people from my church in54:42line my evangelical church in line right54:45so there’s that group what I found afterdoing close to 20 or 30 book talks andand I’m on the road a lot with this bookis that many of those people are justnot going to be convinced by kind ofrational arguments you know politics isoften so much emotional and and and it’sjust gonna be hard to convince thosepeople however there’s a large large55:10number and I don’t know what the55:11percentage is but but I also find55:13there’s a large number who just don’t55:14like Donald Trump they wish55:16they didn’t have to vote for him they55:18hated Hillary Clinton even more they55:22were they they kind of walked the line55:24between not voting for the president and55:26voting for Trump right or voting for a55:30third party candidate and voting for55:33Trump and they decided that they were55:34going to vote for Trump it’s those kind55:36of people that I hope my book is going55:38to reach you know and get them to sort55:42of rethink you know especially in light55:44of everything that’s happened since55:46Trump’s been elected all of the kind of55:49misogyny and racist Arbenz a comet if55:53charlottesville he has an awful55:54immigration policy and so forth on the55:57other hand you can’t count out the56:00economy right the economy is doing56:02really really well a lot of youth56:03angelica’s may not vote on moral issues56:06they may vote on economic issues in 202056:08but when you think about it this way56:10right you don’t need too many56:11evangelicals to have their minds changed56:14for for for a Democrat to win in 2020 I56:19mean Hillary won by three million votes56:22the popular vote so so you know in56:26places like Pennsylvania which you know56:29where we saw in the 2018 midterms we saw56:33mostly Democratic candidates being56:35elected governor senator the the conquer56:40Congress seats almost all many of them56:42flipped to Democrat you know place like56:46Michigan and Wisconsin you don’t need56:48too many votes to turn those states back56:50towards a Democratic candidate so I’m56:52not you know I’m kind of you know a lot56:56of people are saying well if the56:57economy’s good Trump’s gonna win again56:59I’m not entirely convinced about that at57:02least if you can turn some evangelicals57:04you know you might you might have a57:06chance to knock him off in 2020 well57:09here’s here’s a question then if if the57:14Democrats have a nominee who is more57:17likable than Hillary Clinton yeah do you57:20think at least there’ll be sizeable you57:23know statistically significant number57:26vocals who will at57:28perhaps not vote for the Democrat but57:30feel like they don’t have to vote for57:32Khurana57:32yeah Hillary Clinton is a problem with57:35the problem for white conservative57:36evangelicals for two reasons one is one57:40is one as she represents everything57:42about sort of what white evangelicals57:45see as progressivism right pretty57:47pro-choice not doing much to defend57:50Christian values religious liberty57:52particularly marriage you know she’s big57:56government and so forth any Democratic57:58candidate that runs is going to have58:00those same problems with white58:01evangelicals unless it’s like a pro-life58:05democrat right that’s like Bob Casey58:07from Pennsylvania runs who completely58:10who evangelicals backed over Rick58:12Santorum right and then drove Rick58:14Santorum out this is my home state so I58:16know these races pretty well the other58:20problem the other problem white58:21evangelicals had with Hillary Clinton58:22was that she was Hillary Clinton you58:24know the baggage going back to the bill58:27scandals with Monica Lewinsky going back58:30to the lying the you know she’s saying58:33right-wing conspiracy and blah blah blah58:36the deplorable slide you know nobody58:39Clinton made a lot of mistakes among58:41white evangelicals I don’t think I don’t58:43think if she corrected those mistakes58:45she would have won over many white58:46evangelicals to her side but she may58:48have turned some white evangelicals away58:51from Donald Trump towards a third party58:53candidate or towards just not voting in58:56the presidential election so you know58:59we’ll see what happens you could have a59:01Democrat who and if it’s a traditional59:05Democrat on the moral questions that59:07Emma Jellico’s hold dear in 2020 I just59:11I think I think they’re still gonna59:14they’re not gonna vote for that Democrat59:16but because it’s not Hillary Clinton59:18they may say well we could put up with59:19this guy or this one as opposed to you59:23know their four years of Trump I heard59:26something you said this but someone59:29compared Hillary Clinton’s sort of59:33relationship as a cultural icon to the59:37women’s rights movement to Jesse59:39Jackson’s relationship to the civil59:41and the argument was that in the same59:47way that Jesse Jackson couldn’t become59:50president because of just all the59:53baggage that comes with being part of59:54that generation yeah someone from the59:59second generation like Obama didn’t have60:01that package60:02yeah next woman right is the argument60:07that I’ve heard from women’s rights60:11movement but not be associated with all60:14the baggage came with having to fight60:16that fight yeah no no six or seven yeah60:19yeah no it’s there’s probably some truth60:21to that we’ll see you know I don’t know60:24how many women candidates are out there60:25you hear about come out Kamala Harris60:28Kristin Gillibrand I mean you know we’ll60:32see what happens I’m not sure well I I60:37forgot to mention the start but I will60:39plug you are you run a great blog that’s60:43also the title of your first book and60:46the title of your podcast which is right60:48the way of improvement leads home which60:53what’s the URL is it way of improvement60:56way of improvement calm way of60:59improvement calm or no that’s instead61:06Zealand yes I encourage people check out61:17your blog your podcast and you tweet at61:22John fear one john thea one yep jo hn f61:28EI one yeah and i tweet at william are61:35black and in your book believe me the61:39evangelical road to Donald Trump would61:42be a good stocking stuffer when you have61:47those conversations at Christmas right I61:49did a promo for the book on I tweeted I61:52said you just got done with these61:53conversations over Thanks61:55giving with your pro-trump evangelical61:57friends and you wish you had some more61:58arguments for when Christmas or the62:00December holidays come around right get62:03this book you have a month to read it in62:05preparation for Christmas dinner or62:07whatever it might be well thanks for62:12coming on I love to have you on again62:14sometime and great thanks for having me62:17bill thank you
How to Stop Being a Fundamentalist Evangelical Christian
–Frank Schaeffer, writer, former Evangelical Christian, and author of Why I Am an Atheist Who Believes in God, joins David to discuss his past within his parents Evangelical community and his separation from Christianity