Several years ago, when I was early in my ministerial career, I went to a trusted mentor and friend because I was struggling with a problem. The whole episode was so long ago that the details are now a little fuzzy.
Truthfully, I don’t remember who exactly I was having an issue with or what the specific issue was. But I do remember going to this mentor because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing or overlooking something. I knew I was green behind the ears, so I wanted to make sure there wasn’t something I had done, even if unintentionally, to make things worse. I knew this mentor loved me enough and was honest enough to tell me the truth, even if it was hard. So, I told him everything.
As usual, he was gracious with his time. He listened intently, occasionally interjecting to ask thoughtful questions, as he is wont to do. And after I finished sharing everything with him, he stood for a moment in complete silence.
The silence lingered for so long I was unsure of what to say or do next, so I asked, “Well, what do you think?”
Then, with a deep sigh, he shared words I’ll never forget. He said, “There’s just no excuse for being an asshole.”
The bluntness of his comment and the matter-of-fact way in which he stated it caught me off guard. Unsure of how to respond, I chuckled.
To which he replied, “I’m being serious.”
He went on to state: “I appreciate your willingness to engage in self-reflection and to ask hard questions about whether you could have done something differently. And most of the time, that’s a really good thing. But in listening to everything you’ve told me, I don’t think this has anything to do with you. This is an issue with them. They’re being an asshole, and there’s just no excuse for it.”
My mentor’s advice has stuck with me all these years for several reasons, and not just for the bluntness of it. Mainly, it encourages me to balance my tendency for self-examination, and even self-criticalness, with the realization that I’m not the main character in every story I encounter.
“My mentor’s advice has stuck with me all these years.”
Sometimes, I’m a minor character. In fact, sometimes the part I play is so small I’m the equivalent of an actor with an uncredited appearance. I’m only in the background, and people probably don’t even realize I’m there. And in those cases, the reactions and behaviors of other people don’t have anything to do with me, even if I’m the one who ends up bearing the brunt of things.
Thus, self-reflection and examining how you can grow is a good thing, but it has to be balanced with an honest assessment of how big a role you actually play in what’s happening, particularly if this self-reflection is going to be effective.
I’ve thought a lot about this advice recently as I’ve read the news. Two particular stories bring it to mind. The first is the story about Texas Gov. Greg Abbott placing orange spherical buoys with sharp metal between the spheres in the Rio Grande River to stop or limit people immigrating illegally into the United States. The other story is about Russell Moore and his recent interview with Scott Detrow on All Things Considered. In this interview, Moore says he thinks Christianity is in crisis. When asked why, he responded:
It was the result of having multiple pastors tell me, essentially, the same story about quoting the Sermon on the Mount, parenthetically, in their preaching — “turn the other cheek” — (and) to have someone come up after to say, “Where did you get those liberal talking points?” And what was alarming to me is that in most of these scenarios, when the pastor would say, “I’m literally quoting Jesus Christ,” the response would not be, “I apologize.” The response would be, “Yes, but that doesn’t work anymore. That’s weak.” And when we get to the point where the teachings of Jesus himself are seen as subversive to us, then we’re in a crisis.
Now, people can and should have thoughtful and nuanced conversations about how to stop illegal immigration in this country. Even then, there still will be disagreements, and that’s OK. But people, particularly our elected officials, should be pressed on coming up with actual solutions that will adequately address the issue.
In these conversations and potential solutions, however, there has to be an acknowledgement that immigration is a complex problem. It’s a problem that cannot be divorced from the fact we’re talking about the lives of people, people who Christians believe are created in God’s image, people who are inherently worthy of dignity and respect.
“That’s just meanness masquerading as policy.”
And placing buoys with sharp metal objects in the middle of a river, buoys that will either seriously maim or cause people to drown, that’s just meanness masquerading as policy. It’s cruelty and cravenness camouflaged as toughness and strength, and no amount of quoting Genesis can make this godly.
There’s just no both-sides-ing this buoy issue. It isn’t one that requires a lot of self-reflection. To quote my mentor, “they’re being an asshole, and there’s just no excuse for being an asshole.”
Moore’s interview further highlights this issue of masquerading and camouflaging. I agree with Moore that Christianity is in crisis when purported Christians don’t recognize the words of Jesus and think they’re “liberal talking points.”
And the crisis is even worse when those same purported Christians claim Jesus’ way “doesn’t work anymore” and that it’s “weak.” At the very least, some who claim to be Christian have confused cruelty with strength. They’ve confused meanness with toughness. And when “Christians” don’t believe the teachings and way of Jesus work anymore, when they think the Sermon on the Mount is nothing but “liberal talking points,” when their allegiance to a political party takes preference over their allegiance to Jesus Christ, well, calling that a crisis is putting it lightly.
Because it’s more than a crisis, it’s idolatry.
I wonder, though, if this isn’t just another example of something that’s already been going on for a long time now.
For example, I can remember my father-in-law, himself a retired pastor, nearly 15 years ago telling me a story about one of his congregants. My father-in-law had preached a sermon on a passage from one of the Gospels, and in it, Jesus helps some people in need. In his sermon, he challenged his congregation to be like Jesus, to be the hands and feet of Christ in the world, and to help the people around them who are in need. It was a fairly standard sermon in that respect.
What makes it memorable, however, is what happened afterward. This congregant comes up to my father-in-law after worship is over and scolds him for “perverting” the words and stories of Jesus. This man tells him he ought to be ashamed of himself, that “God helps those who help themselves” and that “those people are nothing more than leeches,” and then the man ends the conversation by stating that Rush, meaning Rush Limbaugh, “was right.”
Both angered and floored, I asked my father-in-law what he said in response, and he told me, “nothing.” He said, “I just turned around and walked away.”
“He said if the words and example of Jesus couldn’t reach this man’s heart, there was nothing he could say that would fare any better.”
When I asked why, he said if the words and example of Jesus couldn’t reach this man’s heart, there was nothing he could say that would fare any better.
Masquerading and camouflaging have been going on for far longer than people want to admit. Folks are claiming to be “Christian” when it’s really a way for them to camouflage and claim their preferred political ideology without having to answer questions about it. After all, they’re a “Christian,” and they “really believe it.” Or that’s just how they “interpret the Bible.”
This sort of camouflaging and unhealthy blending of politics and religion leads to crisis because they not only harm the witness of Christians who are genuinely trying to follow the ways of Jesus, but they actively harm churches and cause dissension.
A while back, I wrote an op-ed for BNG titled “Intolerable Cruelty is Killing Us.” In it, I wrote, “There is no value a Christian can hold so tightly that it allows for him or her to be unloving toward his or her neighbor.”
I stand by that statement. Love, both love of God and love of neighbor, should be the guiding ethic for all Christians. It should guide what we say and what we do. It should guide how we view the world, including how we vote.
But when love isn’t what guides us, when our primary values are indifference or fear or having to support a political candidate or toe a party line no matter the costs, well, then we’re doing more than putting our faith at crisis. We’re doing more than risking harm to our Christian witness and to the witness of others.
Instead, we’re actively engaging in idolatry, and we’re running the risk of being an asshole. Idolatry is sinful, no matter what idol we try to replace God with.
Kristopher Aaron is senior pastor of First Baptist Church of Bristol, Va. He is a graduate of McAfee School of Theology and Brite Divinity School. He is married to Clary Gardner Aaron, and they have two children.