“I love the evangelicals,” presidential candidate Donald Trump declares in rallies across the country, “and the evangelicals love me.” So the billionaire builder lauds his self-identified “evangelical” supporters, as he cusses his way to the Oval Office, scorning Muslims and Mexicans, while touting the size of his … hands.
Speaking at the Feb. 16 Winter Jam Christian rock/rap concert in Greenville, S.C., candidate Ted Cruz expressed gratitude to the audience of “14,000 evangelicals” “for standing unapologetically with Jesus, for confessing your faith with love.” Affirming that, “Our nation was founded on Judeo-Christian values,” Cruz insisted, “Those values of life and marriage are under assault, religious liberty is under assault, and yet the American people are rising up.” Days later, Cruz fired his spokesperson/advisor Rick Tyler for posting a falsified video in which candidate Marco Rubio appeared to dismiss the Bible as an adequate source of guidance. (Rubio actually commented that the Bible had the answer to life’s questions.)
After Liberty University President Jerry Falwell Jr. endorsed Donald Trump for president, Mark DeMoss, Liberty U. trustee and longtime Falwell Sr. associate, declared: “I’ve been concerned for Liberty University for a couple of months now, and I’ve held my tongue. … I think a lot of what we’ve seen from Donald Trump will prove to be difficult to explain by evangelicals who have backed him. Watching last weekend’s escapades about [Trump’s hesitance to distance himself from] the KKK, I don’t see how an evangelical backer can feel good about that.”
“The evangelicals,” a group some label “the Republican Party at prayer,” seem badly divided in this election, torn not only between candidates, but also over identity in a post-denominational, postmodern, and many say a post-Christian American culture. Southern Baptist leader Russell Moore was among the first to raise concerns, commenting: “The word ‘evangelical’ has become almost meaningless this year, and in many ways the word itself is at the moment subverting the gospel of Jesus Christ.” Moore even suggested, “The word ‘evangelical’ no longer has any meaning. Just call me a gospel Christian.” In a Washington Post essay he concluded that “the word [evangelical] itself is at the moment subverting the gospel of Jesus Christ.” He warned that “more secular people” misunderstand “the meaning of ‘evangelical,’ seeing us almost exclusively in terms of election-year voting blocs or our most buffoonish television personalities.” Media often confuse actual “churchgoers” from “those who merely self-identify as ‘born again’ or ‘evangelical.’” For Moore, “the evangelicals” cover multiple constituencies (and sins).
Christian columnist David Brody is even more direct, noting: “So let’s not kid ourselves here: Donald Trump is on his way to the GOP nomination and if he wins it, it will be because of evangelicals. Plain and simple.” Trump and his evangelical enablers seem to fascinate and/or appall Americans inside and outside the church.
Clearly evangelicals are no monolithic movement; they cover a wide spectrum of theology, piety and politics. Still, let’s ask one more time: Who are evangelicals, generally speaking? In Evangelicals & Conservatives in the Early South, Robert Calhoun wrote that: “Evangelical Christianity is the proclamation of salvation through faith in Christ. It emphasizes the atonement for human sins through Christ’s crucifixion, relies on Scriptural authority, and affirms the victory of God’s grace over His law. … Evangelicalism is a different term, an academic concept, identifying the bond between proclaimers and believers and the social energy which conversion releases into surrounding human environment.” Such “social energy” seems an appropriate term for the divisive engagement of evangelicals in this year’s presidential campaign.
And it is nothing new: In an essay titled, “Religion and Politics in the American Past and Present,” Seymour Lipsett wrote that the nation’s “first experience with political differentiation among religious groups began with the founding of the nation. The Episcopalian and Congregationalist churches became identified with the conservative Federalists and Whigs, while the Baptist, Methodist and Presbyterian churches were linked with the Jeffersonians and Jacksonians.” Religious “Establishments” and “Populists” were there from the beginning.
But evangelical populism is elusive then and now. Indeed, Lipsett noted that as 19th century Baptists and Methodists became more “’established’ themselves … they joined older-established Protestant churches and the prevailing conservative party in raising [their particular] moral concerns as public issues.”
Some see contemporary divisions as a teachable moment. Writing in Patheos, Andre Johnson recently asked: “What has the rise of Trump done to expose the spiritual and theological grounding that makes up the evangelical faith? Why is conservative (white) evangelical faith (still) the norm of what it means to be a person of faith? What I suggest is that the Trump candidacy has opened up windows of opportunity for those of us who express different faith expressions and traditions. It also exposes what many of us have known for a long time — that conservative evangelical faith is spiritually bankrupt and theologically vacuous.”
Harsh words that should send a shiver down all our theological spines, challenging us to re-examine the demands of citizenship in the US of A, and membership in the Body of Christ. Then seek the wisdom to know the difference.