As our nation gears up for midterm elections, I am reminded of two important truths:
- Confidence and charisma do not equal competence
- Likability does not equal accuracy or integrity
Consider the case of Graham Platner.
Platner, an outside Democrat picked to run against Susan Collins, is charismatic. He’s charismatic not in your typical politician way, but in an everyday, “one of us” kind of way. His progressivism feels authentic.
Kate Hanch
Platner, an oysterman and veteran who spoke to his audience candidly and confidently, said things resonating with his constituents. He articulated his ideas clearly, without notes and speaking directly from the heart. He said, “The future we need to build is one where when we elevate everyone in society, society elevates.”
I understood his appeal. His speech echoed my own beliefs of how we should treat others and that when we uplift the most vulnerable, everyone thrives. As a theologian, I believe each person is created in the image of God and thus must be treated with dignity and respect. This does not excuse bad behavior but acknowledges our shared humanity.
The public image Platner cultivated became increasingly difficult to reconcile with reports about his past conduct, however. A former girlfriend accused him of sexually assaulting her. He claimed this was “categorically false.” Earlier social media posts resurfaced where he denigrated rural Americans, used racial slurs and seemed to encourage political violence. Recently, he stepped down from the campaign, 19 days before the deadline to find someone to replace him.
Confidence and charisma do not equal competence and integrity.
People across the political spectrum, in desperation to seize or maintain power, can quickly become beholden to a person who seems to have all the right answers. This person seems “electable.” They promise to to save a nation deeply fractured. They smile widely and present a persona they know people will like.
“We desire such a person because our memories and nostalgia are short and selective.”
We desire such a person because our memories and nostalgia are short and selective. We long for better days when we had power or life felt easier. When we speak of a golden era, whether it was Baptist life before the Southern Baptist fundamentalist takeover or the 1950s United States, we always can ask ourselves: Who was this good for? And whose voice is missing? In both cases, queer people, people of color, women and other marginalized groups did not have a voice and were denied dignity.
It’s not so different, really, than the stories we hear in the biblical texts. In Exodus 32, the Israelites erect a golden calf while Moses speaks with God on the mountain. In 1 Samuel 8, the Israelites ask Samuel for their own king to “be like other nations.” In doing so, they reject God as their king. In John 19, the crowd cries “We have no king but Caesar” when Jesus stands accused.
The story of deifying our political leaders is an old story with new characters.
When we deify our political and religious leaders, we soon realize there are no winners. The person being exalted is stripped of humanity and finitude. Leaders may begin to believe they are beyond accountability, entitled to loyalty or immune from questioning. The people wanting to create kings and golden calves inevitably become disappointed and heartbroken when the object of their adoration messes up. Or, in an effort to keep power, they may overlook the harmful and damaging behaviors of these golden-calf leaders.
“When we deify our political and religious leaders, we soon realize there are no winners.”
Take for instance, Al Mohler’s convoluted description of Donald Trump’s actions toward Iran. He speaks many words while saying nothing, seemingly giving Trump a free pass.
This danger is not confined to the political realms.
While charisma and confidence can make watching a sermon or a political speech fun and mesmerizing, it doesn’t indicate the person speaking is competent or following the work of the Holy Spirit. Preaching a sermon is a major part, but not the whole part, of the pastor’s ministry. A charismatic and beloved pastor can easily present one persona to a congregation and another to the staff.
We see and know stories of well-loved pastors who treated staff unkindly and unjustly or violated boundaries. We know those stories are underreported for fear of retribution. Oftentimes, their charisma and likability mean these pastors and leaders are believed over the people they’ve harmed. Victims are given no recourse, especially in church settings. Protecting the leader and the institution becomes more important than protecting God’s people.
As faith leader and community organizer Edwin Robinson spoke to students at Perkins Seminary, at Pentecost there was no singular charismatic leader. Peter didn’t create Pentecost. He named what the Spirit already was doing. The Spirit was empowering, equipping and comforting.
Before we hold up political leaders or pastors as moral exemplars, let’s do some self-reflection. No one political party can save us. No one pastor or institution can save us. That’s the Triune God’s job.
This reality shouldn’t cause us to despair or become passive. But it opens our eyes as we follow the Holy Spirit’s lead. We are freed to hold each other accountable, to ask the hard questions and to know that every movement and every good thing has never depended upon a single individual or institution. God still moves even when our heroes stumble.
We are called not to follow the most charismatic person in the room, but to follow the movement of the Holy Spirit.
That is discernment.
Kate Hanch serves as director of the Baptist House of Studies at Perkins School of Theology at SMU. Her first book, Storied Witness, explores the theology of 19th century Black women preachers in the United States.