The Politics of Fear, Reconsidered

I looked into the mirror, (Yeah)
Proud as I could be, (Yeah)
And I saw my pointing finger (Yeah)
Pointing back at me,
Saying, “Who named you accuser? (Yeah)
Who gave you the scales?” (Yeah)
I hung my head in sorrow; (Yeah)
I could almost feel the nails
I said, “This is how it is
To be crucified and judged
Without love”

-Amy Grant, What About the Love

ISIS_zpsebcsoq8xAs the news about the list of Governors either pausing or barring Syrian refugees from coming to their states continued this week, I started to be bothered by what I was seeing on social media.  At first it was a sense of righteous outrage, but it soon morphed into a self-righteousness.  It felt like the Good Samaritan all of the sudden became a big jackass talking about how open minded and compassionate he was as opposed to those other two losers.

I still think we need to welcome refugees no matter where they come from.  But like most of life, this issue is not as black and white as we want it to be. We can talk about Baby Jesus being a refugee (which is true), but it doesn’t mean that this issue is that simple.

Political blogger Kevin Drum noted in a blog post yesterday, that people should tone down on the mocking tone because the concerns about safety are legitimate:

The liberal response to this should be far more measured. We should support tight screening. Never mind that screening is already pretty tight. We should highlight the fact that we’re accepting a pretty modest number of refugees. In general, we should act like this is a legitimate thing to be concerned about and then work from there.

Which brings up an interesting point: did you know that the Obama Administration paused the immigration process of Iraqi refugees in 2011 because of terror concerns? This is from an ABC News article:

Several dozen suspected terrorist bombmakers, including some believed to have targeted American troops, may have mistakenly been allowed to move to the United States as war refugees, according to FBI agents investigating the remnants of roadside bombs recovered from Iraq and Afghanistan.

The discovery in 2009 of two al Qaeda-Iraq terrorists living as refugees in Bowling Green, Kentucky — who later admitted in court that they’d attacked U.S. soldiers in Iraq — prompted the bureau to assign hundreds of specialists to an around-the-clock effort aimed at checking its archive of 100,000 improvised explosive devices collected in the war zones, known as IEDs, for other suspected terrorists’ fingerprints…

As a result of the Kentucky case, the State Department stopped processing Iraq refugees for six months in 2011, federal officials told ABC News – even for many who had heroically helped U.S. forces as interpreters and intelligence assets. One Iraqi who had aided American troops was assassinated before his refugee application could be processed, because of the immigration delays, two U.S. officials said. In 2011, fewer than 10,000 Iraqis were resettled as refugees in the U.S., half the number from the year before, State Department statistics show.

Now, what happened in 2011 is not the same thing happening now. We don’t have proof that there are terrorists among the refugees. But this does make me think that in light of last week’s attack in Paris, it isn’t so far-fetched to request a pause.

Which leads me to the article that prompted me to write this blog post. Evangelical blogger John Mark Reynolds wrote that being prudent doesn’t mean being anti-refugee and that accepting a token amount of refugees makes you virtuous. Reynolds believes that Christians must care for the refugee, but he also thinks a lot of what is being done by the United States is not enough and not helpful:

We can pretend to be making room for Baby Jesus at our inn while doing almost nothing for Syrians relative to the need of the Syrian refugees. If we wanted to help by repopulating, then we should be moving tens of thousands more, but nobody thinks this is a good idea.

Why?

Our goal is for people to flourish in their homelands, not depopulate Syria of Christians and other religious minorities. We do not want to move Syrians to the US and Europe in such great numbers that we effectively end Syrian culture.

In the meantime, we do need safe havens near home for the refugee populations. I wish the Obama administration were doing more . . . but taking in ten thousand is doing next to nothing that is meaningful.

Leaving the Islamic State and terrorist groups in charge of much of Syria while helping the good people of Syria depopulate the area of those who have lived there for centuries is questionable policy. What happens next? Where will the next million Syrians go? Will we take another ten thousand and pretend that is enough?

Reynolds also notes that we haven’t done a good job of preventing Syrians from having to leave their homes in the first place:

I have no doubt that almost none of the ten thousand are here to commit terror or will commit terror. I also have no doubt that if one does that it will be devastating to the political will to do anything again. We do little and risk much through this gesture.

Yet if I say this, then I am shown a picture of a dead child and told I support this policy, generally by people who oppose putting boots on the ground to end the regime that is causing the refugee crisis. I want to preserve Syria, beautiful, multi-cultural Syria, not appropriate her people into permanent exile or cultural isolation.

Fortunately, I am blessed to have sensible, loving friends who know how painful this decision is on both sides. I am not sure I am right and this is hard. Loving Syria and the people of Syria makes me wish to throw all caution to the wind and do all that can be done . . . but we are already not doing all we could. When on Facebook I was told my “prudence” would kill a Syrian child, I wanted to say: “What of the Obama administration that through prudence has let Syria burn?”(emphasis mine). What of your prudence in only taking ten thousand? Why not one hundred thousand?”

That is the question we aren’t talking about: why did we let this happen in the first place? In 2013, the President had a chance to go into Syria to deal with the crisis, but backed out of it. I along with others, thought we should stay out of Syria. Wasn’t our concern, we said. Why is it now our concern? Did Syrians have to leave their homes for us to give a damn?

In some way, a lot of this is just another part of the ongoing political polarization of America.  People lumped together every Republican governor that said “no” into a xenophobic cowardly bigot.  Some of the governors are cynical bigots, but not all of them.  Michigan Governor Rick Snyder was one that asked for a pause.  I was dissapointed in his decision because earlier in the year he said rather publicly that he would accept Syrians.  Michigan (which is my native state) already has a substantial Arab population, including a number of Syrian immigrants in Metro Detroit and Flint. The governor has gone to great lengths to explain that he is not wanting to shut the door permanently; he simply want to be sure.  Maybe that’s not the right course.  Maybe he should have just accepted the refugees without question.  I don’t know.  What it seems to me is that he is trying to be both welcoming and responsible.  But all of that nuance gets lost in the debate.

I still think we should accept refugees.  But I’m less willing to automatically chastise anyone who doesn’t agree with me.  I will denounce the naked racism that I find on Facebook when we talk about these issues, but I will also think about when and why we should get involved in conflicts around the world. I will learn that sometimes the issues we think are so black and white, aren’t.

The reason I started off with the lyrics from an Amy Grant song is that even when we are doing good things, our pride can taint them.  It’s wrong to be hate another person for their religion.  But God also looks down on pride, the sense that you are better than others because you are so righteous.  I think there has been a lot of pride over the last few days and we have to ask if this is leading to something better or not.  We can be right and yet be so wrong.

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The Invisibility of Progressive Christianity

Church-You-Can-See-Through-10Every so often, I’ve heard an argument that goes like this:  “the press only talks about the Christians vs. the gays as if all Christians are against being gay.  Don’t they know that there are Christians who support gays?”

The frustration comes from being ignored by the wider culture, especially the media.  When we think of Christians, we are more likely to think of evangelicals or Catholics, but never liberal Protestantism.  This has long been a problem.  Some, including former evangelical-turned liberal Christian Randall Balmer, think there is a conspiracy afoot inspired by groups like the Institute for Religion and Democracy.

I will agree that liberal Protestantism does get ignored in society.  While groups like the IRD tend to go after liberals, I don’t think they have as a big as an impact as we would like to think.  I think that there is something else going on, something that we in progressive churches are doing to ourselves and it is this: I believe we are so uncritical of socially liberal society that we blend into the woodwork.  In essence, when you say the same thing the wider society says, you tend to cancel yourself out.

I’ve been think about that after reading Ross Douthat’s latest piece for the New York Times.  In this essay, he focuses on Pope Francis and the hopeful revival of liberal Christianity.  Could it happen?  Douthat says yes, but it has challenges:

But there are deep reasons why liberal Christianity has struggled lately, which a Francis-inspired revival would need to overcome. One is the tendency for a liberal-leaning faith to simply become a secularized faith, obsessed with political utopias and embarrassed by supernatural hopes, until the very point of churchgoing gradually evaporates. (It’s not a coincidence that the most resilient of left-leaning religious communities, the African-American church, is also the most frankly supernaturalist.)

The other is religious liberalism’s urge to follow secular liberalism in embracing the sexual revolution and all its works — a move that promises renewal but rarely delivers, because it sells out far too much of scripture and tradition along the way.

The first tendency is one that this pope’s example effectively rebukes. However “left” his political impulses may be, they are joined to a prayerful and devotional sensibility, an earthy, Satan-invoking zeal that has nothing arid or secularized about it.

The second tendency, though, is one that Francis has tacitly encouraged, by empowering clerics and theologians who seem to believe that Rome’s future lies in imitating the moribund Episcopal Church’s approach to sex, marriage and divorce.

I don’t agree with everything Douthat says here, but he is on to something.  Douthat says that religious liberals have sold out to the sexual revolution and that has cost it in many ways.

And I think he’s right.

Now before the pitchforks come out, I should explain.  Being gay, I am thankful of having a church and denomination that welcomes me.  The sexual ethics I grew up with was not something I would share with others, at least the ways it was taught.  The problem is this: liberal Christianity asks nothing of us when it comes to our sexuality.  It never asks how we should live as Christians when it comes to sex.  It never asks when abortions are necessary and when it is morally questionable, it just follows the line that comes from secular feminists.  It talks about same sex marriage as “love wins” but doesn’t ask what is marriage for as Christians.

I’m not urging that we create a lists of dos and don’ts when it comes to sex.  But like so much of the modern liberal church, we don’t think theologically about sexuality.  What liberal Christians have done is just tacitly accept what the wider liberal culture has accepted with out thinking about it critically.

So, if a journalist is writing a story and he or she has a choice to talk to either a liberal pastor who supports abortion on demand or the local abortion rights activist, they are going to go with the activist.  Why go to a pastor who will say the same thing when you have the real thing?

I will say it again: I am not advocating for liberal Christians to give up their support for a more liberal attitude towards sexuality.  What I am calling for is to start to think about the whys more often.  We  need to be thinking theologically and not culturally.

Having been trained as a journalist, I can tell you that writers want to get an interesting angle and we don’t have one.  And part of the reason is that liberal Christianity has lost or squandered it’s theological tradition.  In it’s place we have used culture-talk or politics, which make us sound like the Democratic Party at prayer.  If that is what we are, then I can see why people would rather stay in bed and get some extra sleep than go to church.

If mainline/progressive/liberal Christianity, especially the Protestant kind, wants to stand out more, then it needs to be a unique voice in society instead of an echo.

Was Jesus a Progressive Rabbi?

Before I say anything, take a look at this  graphic.

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I’ve seen a few people on Facebook share this image from theologian Benjamin Corey and I have to say that it bothers me.  Maybe Corey thinks he is sharing the gospel truth, but I don’t think he’s doing that.  He is peddaling a Jesus in his own image, one that surprisingly likes what Corey likes and hates what Corey hates.  Which means he isn’t doing anything that different than what conservative Christians do with Jesus.

When I made my journey from evangelicalism to mainline/progressive Christianity in the 90s, I was expecting to join a faith that wasn’t so captive to American politics.  I soon discovered that this wasn’t the case; the “Christian Left” was no better than the Religious Right.    My hopes were raised again a decade later with the rise of the Emergent Church.  It built itself as something apart from the left and right, but over time it was co-opted and became an organ of the political left.

This is why I have a hard time calling myself a progressive Christian.  What I’ve seen more often than not is a mirror version of conservative Christianity; a faith that reflects culture and ideology and not God.

The problem with Corey’s Jesus is that he rather safe.  What I mean is that he doesn’t challenge Corey’s political beliefs at all.  Jesus isn’t Lord but the handmaiden to progressive politics.

My right of center politics are always challenged by Christ’s call to care for the least of these as they should be.  If I don’t feel any tension between my ideology and my theology, I’m doing this faith thing wrong. My frustration here is that there seems to be no tension at all with Corey.  I guess Jesus  is just cool with that.

I left evangelicalism because I was tired of the using of God as some kind of  conservative cheerleader.  I was tired of God being considered a loyal Republican. But I am equally tired of progressive Christians who want to make Jesus a liberal democrat.  What it means is that we stop thinking about how the church should respond in society and instead spend time think how God would have us respond.  Odds are it will be something that will bother Corey and his conservative counterpart.

Big Me and Little Jesus

roadtocharacterOver the years, I’ve noticed a change on social media.  When I started writing on LiveJournal about 15 years ago, the circles of friends were fairly open about their lives.  They wouldn’t share their deepest secrets with everybody, but they would with a certain group.  There was nothing exhibitionist about it- it was just everyday people sharing the struggles of everyday life.

Blogs were the same way.  People were willing to share their imperfections and questions.  The posts were filled with nuance and reason.

But over, say the last 5 to 7 years, something happened.  Social media became less personal.  Social platforms like Facebook and Twitter became more showrooms that presented a more cleaned up and perfect version of the self.  People tend to make more statements instead of  asking questions.  Every one seems happy online; on a few occasions someone isn’t so perfect and that is reflected in a post or tweet, but it is a longing to be the norm on social media the perfect self with the perfect family.

Being a church communicator, I’ve been hawking the importance of social media for years.  I still think that is important for churches to be on social media, but we need to be more aware of what social media, at least the most current version of social media is doing to us as a culture and as a church. Because, like any bit of technology it is changing us.

Social Media has at times made the church less a place of sinners saved by grace than a place where people try to present themselves as correct.  Liberal and conservative Christians focus less on their frailty, their temptation to sin and more on presenting their viewpoint/ideology as the superior one to the other side.  I don’t hear people sharing their uncertainties and questions as much as making a case for their side.

While polemicists on the left, right and center tend to roll their eyes when they hear commentator David Brooks speak, more often than not, Brooks has his finger on what is going on in culture on what has changed for good or for ill.  His latest book, the Road to Character, talks about how as a society we have become focused on resume virtues as opposed to eulogy virtues.  Resume virtues are the skills and experiences that fit on a resume.  Places like Facebook and Twitter are places you will find resume virtues.

Eulogy virtues are those things that people will say about you when you are gone.  More often than not, this is what you will still find in obituaries and on social media sites like Caring Bridge.

Resume virtues are part of what Brooks calls the culture of “Big Me” a resume or highlight reel of your life which shows just the good parts.  “Big Me” is looking at yourself as larger than life.  Brooks shares a set of statistics from the 1950s and from more recent times:

My favorite statistic about this is that in 1950 the Gallup organization asked high school seniors: Are you a very important person? And in 1950, 12 percent said yes. They asked again in 2005 and it was 80 percent who said they were a very important person. So we live in a culture that encourages us to be big about ourselves, and I think the starting point of trying to build inner goodness is to be a little bit smaller about yourself.

This is what I’ve seen in the shift in social media.  When I was on LiveJournal circa 2001, it was basically about sharing the ordinariness of our lives.  Fifteen years later on Facebook we see Big Me in action, where we show all the successful parts of our lives and leave the darker aspects of living behind. Brooks expounds on this in a New York Times column:

We live in the culture of the Big Me. The meritocracy wants you to promote yourself. Social media wants you to broadcast a highlight reel of your life. Your parents and teachers were always telling you how wonderful you were.

But all the people I’ve ever deeply admired are profoundly honest about their own weaknesses. They have identified their core sin, whether it is selfishness, the desperate need for approval, cowardice, hardheartedness or whatever. They have traced how that core sin leads to the behavior that makes them feel ashamed. They have achieved a profound humility, which has best been defined as an intense self-awareness from a position of other-centeredness.

So where is God in all of this?

I think in the culture of Big Me, God become less the Savior or Father, than the God of Moral Therapeutic Deism, a God that wants us to be happy, but not one that challenges us to be better. We get churches where we are affirmed, but never to be better, more virtuous.  We get churches where we don’t talk about sin (or at least we don’t talk about our sin, the sin of that guy down the street, though…) but we talk about how to be successful.

Brooks believes we needs to recover and older moral frame-work one that uses religious words and concepts:

There are certain words that have been passed down through the generations that we’ve sort of left behind. And some of them have quasi-religious connotations, but I don’t think they need to. Those are words like grace — the idea that we’re loved more than we deserve — redemption and sin. We now use the word sin in the context of fattening desserts, but it used to be central in the vocabulary, whether you’re religious or not; an awareness that we all sin and we all have the same sins — selfishness, self-centeredness. And I think rediscovering that word is an important task because without that you’re just too egotistical. You don’t realize how broken we all are at some level.

Maybe as Christians we need to start engaging and changing the nature of social media instead of letting it change us.  We need to talk more about our own sin and brokeness; not in a tell-all kind of way, but in honesty.  We have to present ourselves as saved by God’s grace and not through merit.  We have to be willing to show the cracks in our armor, to show we aren’t all that and a bag of chips.  We have to be about proclaiming a culture of Big God instead of Big Me.

Social media today  has had the effect of alienating me from my friends.  I don’t care as much about knowing what you had for dinner or your last trip as much as what is your story.  I need to be more honest about who I am and to hell if it doesn’t look good on a resume.

Social media has its place in our society.  But let’s make it a place that is little less about celebrating ourselves and more about telling our stories because we need to hear them.

Diversity in Name Only

diversityA friend on Facebook linked to an article in First Things by Mark Regnerus.  Regnerus is an interesting fellow.  He is a sociologist at the University of Texas and  has been at the center of some controversy in recent years over a study he released on gay parenting that did not put same sex families in a positive light.  Knowing that, I was a little hesitant to share this article because so many will dismiss this article at first read because of who wrote it.

I disagree with Regnerus, but his article on diversity in mainline churches did hit at something I’ve been thinking about.  If you can read past the triumphalism of the post, he shares that for all the talk within mainline churches about diversity, there just isn’t that much to be found vis-a-vis Pentecostal or Catholic churches:

There’s a mainline congregation I walk past on my way to the local Starbucks. The church’s advertising signals a key priority: “We value our inclusivity—whether you are young, old, gay, straight, single, married, partnered, all walks of life and all backgrounds and cultures—we welcome you!”

In a world where our devices, apps, and sites foster narrow social circles based exactly on such categories, it’s refreshing to know that Christian congregations are mindful of their call to reach the spectrum of souls.

But it’s not happening, at least not within the mainline. Data from the 2014 Relationships in America survey reveal that mainline churches are anything but diverse. They’re whiter (84 vs. 64 percent), older (43 vs. 28 percent are ages 50-60), more apt to be married (49 vs. 43 percent), have a college degree (52 vs. 31 percent) and are “straighter” (91 vs. 88 percent heterosexual) than the national population. Have you met an Episcopalian plumber? If you ever do, remember it, because it won’t happen twice.

By contrast, 54 percent of American Catholics are white, and 39 percent Latino. Pentecostals are a shred under 60 percent white, with an additional 23 percent African American and 14 percent Latino. Even evangelicals are less white—at 76 percent overall. And Pentecostalism and Catholicism, by comparison with the mainline, are veritable youth movements (26 percent each vs. 16 percent between ages 18–32). Evangelicals even more so—at 30 percent. Only 28 percent of American Catholics have a college degree, slightly below the national average.

I think there is truth to be found here.  I’ve heard more than enough stories about mainline clergy who are persons of color and how they are treated.  I know some of the hidden racism I’ve faced over the years from people supposedly committed to social justice.  There are problems within other sectors of American Christianity, but mainline congregations have never seemed to me to be naturally diverse in a way that I’ve seen in Catholic or some evangelical communities.  We are good at talking about race and racial injustice, but I think we aren’t that good when it comes to living it.

To add to that, Regnerus’ joke about Episcopal plumbers shows another embarassing truth about most, but not all of the mainline: there are almost no working class folk in the pews. I’ve noticed over the years that a lot of the mainline congregations in my hometown of Flint, Michigan as well as here in Minnesota that are closed tended to be less middle to upper middle class and more working to middle class. When I think of some of the strongest mainline churches, they tend to be large urban congregations that again have few working class people. Regnerus’ quip about rich and poor Catholics taking communion together is very true.  My years attending Catholic schools and having many Catholic friends have shown me congregations where doctors and carpenters worship together.  My Catholic high school in Michigan had a mix of people from  various economic classes.  Maybe that’s because I came from a working class town where General Motors had a big influence, but I don’t think I’m far off.

In contrast most of the mainline churches I’ve been involved in tended to be folks that were professionals of some sort.  Nurses, teachers, middle management folk are what make up some of the Disciple, Presbyterian and UCC churches.

Three years ago I wrote about the fact that the white working class are few and far between in mainline churches. I wrote in 2012:

The thing is, I don’t think the people who make up most mainline churches, who tend to be from a more professional background don’t like these folks very much.  I know this, because I hear how pastors talk about working class whites in meetings with other pastors, and I can tell you they aren’t looking at them as some kind of salt of the earth figure.  I’ve also heard it from people in the pews of mainline churches as well: this kind of contempt for them.
We look down at them because we see them as racist, homophobic, sexist and any other -ist and -ism that you can think of them.  The thing is that working class whites can be all these things, but they are more than that as well.  As Packer notes in his essay, these are people who see very little hope and take it out on everyone for their lot in life.
When we talk about planting new churches to reach young adults, we mostly mean reaching people of the same socio-economic class that we are a part of.  As much as we want to talk about caring about the poor and the workers, I sometimes wonder how accepting we are of those that actually fit this description.  How willing would folks be to accepting a man or woman that you can tell has lived a hard life and whose moral life is kind of a mess?
My own opinion is that the mainline church has a class issue and we don’t know it or at least don’t want to acknowledge it.  A good number of the mainline churches I know exhibit the values of the middle and upper middle classes.  We don’t have any way to connect culturally with the working class.
I also tend to think mainline churches tend to not welcome those of differing political and theological views.  Every so often I notice how some of my pastoral colleagues will say something about conservatives and libertarians.  Now, both political persuasions don’t always adhere to the gospel and they should be called out on that.  But the chatter in I see on Facebook sometimes go further.  They seem to show Republicans as heartless monsters.  In many ways some in mainline churches have adopted the language of politics instead of the language of theology and God’s grace.  So when one hears a pastor rip on Republicans, someone who might lean that way may think that this congregation isn’t really for them.  When an evangelical hears their beliefs and practices being mocked, they might think this church is for them. As someone who leans right, I’ve wondered at times if I’ve really found a home in the mainline.*
I think that mainline/progressive Christians really need to think about who is really welcomed at the table of Jesus. We need to examine our own biases and preferences to discern how inclusive we really are. We need to think about what it really means to say “all are welcome.”
Unlike Regnerus, I am not writing off the mainline church.  I believe it can become once against a Broad Church, but for that to happen it needs to take a good, long look at itself.

Why I’m Tired of Facebook

10553611_722040971164698_4428042271161215709_nFor someone that has touted all the good about social media, I have come to this startling conclusion:

I’m tired of Facebook.

Actually, I’m not totally tired of Facebook.  It’s allowed me to connect with friends that I haven’t had contact with in years.  No, what I’m tired of is the moralizing that goes on.  An example of this are those sharing of Twitter accounts where the writer chastises those who are screaming at the children making their way to the US Border.  “Jesus is ashamed of you,” it reads.  There are other moralizing posts shaming those who oppose same sex marriage or Republicans or Israel or whatever else.  Since most of my friends are on the liberal side of spectrum, I tend to see posts on issues that are important to them, but I suspect conservatives are doing it too.

I will agree that yelling at 8-year-olds is terrible and should be called out.  But the thing is, the point of these moralizing posts isn’t to correct bad behavior as much as it is to boast how we are on the side of the angels as opposed to the other poor sap.  Odds are the people that need correcting will never see it since the person posting probably doesn’t have friends who might engage in such behavior.

I’m not against calling for right behavior.  But these posts are simply full of self-righteous blather that are just plain mean.  I don’t care how much I agree with the writer’s sentiment; I still find these Facebook posts as wrong.

One of the dark sides of social media is that it can force us into little ideological and theological cul de sacs where we feel emboldened to say all sorts of bad things about “the other.”  Social media has become less of a platform for discussion than it has a place where we can show of fealty to a ideology. It’s a place where we can feel good being part of the right group and view the other with contempt.

I know that Jesus spoke out against the religious leaders of his day that had twisted the law.  We want to be like Jesus; calling out those fake Christians and showing them how wrong they really are.  I think too often we use what Jesus does as an excuse to be as mean as we want to.

Showing an image condemning poor behavior is not brave- for the most part it’s arrogant and mean.

Musings on the Hobby Lobby Affair

HobbyLobbyStowOhioSo, as we all know, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of Olkahoma based Hobby Lobby in a case involving the affordable care act.  The family owned company sued the government saying that being forced to pay for certain birth control violated their religious freedom.

Before I get to the imbroglio, I wanted to share my own views on this, limited as they might be.  When this suit first went to trial I thought it made sense that Hobby Lobby not be able to drop health care when it violates religious beliefs.  It’s not for any ideological issues, just that if every company could decide to opt for religious reasons, we would have chaos.  However, after learning more about the case, I think that the decision reached was appropriate. It was tailored very narrowly to the issue at hand and Hobby Lobby wasn’t asking to ban all birth control, just 4 out of 20 that were in the view of the Green family (Hobby Lobby’s owners) what has been called abortificients.  I don’t have to agree with the Green family’s view on birth control, but I do see the logic in this case.

So, now that that was done, let’s talk about  how Christians have reacted to this.

One of the critiques against the Progressive Christianity is that it seems to only exist to combat Evangelical/Fundamentalist Christianity.  I don’t think that’s totally true, but it is really close.

Knowing many progressive Christians, I have followed their reactions on this decision and it was all against Hobby Lobby.If you want to know why I tend to have a tenuous relationship with Progressive Christianity, one doesn’t have go any further than the response to the decision.  Progressive Christians are very good in telling everyone that they should live a certain way when following Jesus.  I agree; I just wished they would practice it.

More and more, I’ve come to believe that Progressive Christians really, really hate evangelical Christians.  Any talk of religious liberty by evangelicals has to be nothing more than a thinly veiled excuse to discriminate.  No thought is given to how some Christians might have to go against their consciences.  There never seems to be any thought in some form of pluralism, to allow people with different views to live along side the majority in peace.  No, it seems at the times that I guess I prefer to give the other side the benefit of the doubt.  Yes, there are people who will want to take advantage of kindness and we do need to be vigilant, but do we have to treat the other side with such contempt?

Maybe what bothers so much is that Progressive Christians seem to see faith as nothing more than a hobby, something we do in our spare time from real life.  There is no questioning, especially on religious grounds, about birth control.  No, I am not suggesting that we should be against it, but shouldn’t there be some talk about the wisdom of some forms of birth control and how they do or don’t run counter to our Christian faith?  Hobby Lobby was willing to allow other forms of birth control and refused to support the others because it felt like an abortion which they are against.  So it seems like the conservative Christians we lash out against were more thoughtful and discerning than the Progressive Christians who are supposed to be more mindful. Hobby Lobby wins the right to not cover 4 versions of birth control and it’s treated like we are seeing the beginning of Republic of Gilead.

Moving forward, there will be more clashes. Same sex marriage, abortion and other sexually-related issues will pit religious liberty against sexual rights.  Right now, progressives are treating it like a zero-sum game; we win, they lose.  I think we have to find ways to allow conservatives the freedom to live as they believe without harming my freedom as a gay man.  There is something rather unChristian about forcing people to violate their consciences just because we don’t like their views.

Ross Douthat wrote in a recent op-ed about a company that was given high praise by a liberal think tank for its socially conscious actions.  It’s not Whole Foods or Ben and Jerry’s.  It’s…..Hobby Lobby, the same company that is being demonized this week.  Douthat notes the drive to push faith out of the public square can makes us a less vibrant and just society.  Sometimes the people we don’t agree with can be the ones who save us- if we let them.