Don't Call This a Christian Nation

When I was in middle school, the well-intentioned youth ministry at my church called a group of students onto a cramped stage in the dimly lit room that served as our Youth space. The entire congregation was crammed into a retail strip at the time, packed so tightly that my father was lauded for finding a way to add a dozen chairs to the sanctuary. The Youth area was a dark box next door, with a small riser and a few strategically positioned can lights that imitated the main stage. We met on Wednesdays to study Scripture between silly challenges involving toilet paper and stressful conversations about hormones.

On this particular evening, our pastor asked a brave volunteer to stand atop a generic wooden stool surrounded by a few peers who would (equally bravely) represent “the world.” Their task was to pull him down. His job was more difficult: he had to get everyone else up there with him. You can imagine how it played out.

The message was clear: it’s easier to be dragged down by the world than to pull worldly people into a life of obedience to Christ. If that message strikes you as overly simplistic and mildly paranoid, you aren’t alone.

As I understand the Gospel of Jesus, a more apt metaphor would have been to invite everyone to share the stage rather than to encourage a power struggle over a finite resource: the Kingdom is boundless, powered by means above our own, defined by contentment instead of competition, and intended to unify sinners under an umbrella of grace rather than elevate saints. But I digress.

There’s a worthy warning in that metaphorical tug-of-war. If our hearts aren’t set on Things Above, we become encumbered by idols. In a basic sense, the greatest failings of the Church - from the Crusades to complicity in chattel slavery - are evidence of such faltering. Our forebears pursued influence and wealth rather than the Kingdom. They fell off the stool.

And so, brothers and sisters, have we.

Can a Nation Be "Christian?"

Allow me to side-step the clickbaity nature of my title with a semantic argument: a “nation,” in the modern sense, cannot functionally operate as though it were, itself, “Christian.” Nations are inherently self-interested. They exist to preserve their own resources and customs, and for much of human history, to take more of those things from their rivals. In a healthy world, like we've had for most of my life, nations are steered by people of character for the mutual benefit of all.

For the last few decades, the vast majority of countries pursued collective betterment. We may have pursued the greater good for our own purposes, but we collaborated with our neighbors more or less effectively. And, to a large but imperfect degree, we did so by following principles that, intentionally or unintentionally, aligned with values expressed in scripture and the teachings of Jesus.

But the call of Christ goes beyond allowing others to ride our coattails as we succeed. Jesus expected his followers to sacrifice for their neighbors, finding contentment and trusting in power beyond our own. That kind of life is nearly incompatible with the agenda of a nation-state, which is probably why Jesus built a Church instead of an Empire.

Christians are supposed to shape the world through humility, love, and obedience to scripture. Faithful believers have left a powerful testimony throughout history: caring for the vulnerable, preserving the rights of the overlooked, and building systems that tackled poverty, illiteracy, and sickness across the globe. But at some point in the last few decades, building for God's Kingdom ceased being enough.

Enemies, Necessities, and Practicality

A growing faction of believers has advanced the idea that God cannot be glorified by mere faithfulness. He requires, they argue, Dominion. Complete control of every aspect of life and culture, represented by professing Christians atop the metaphorical "mountains" of family, government, religion, education, media, the arts, and business.

Nevermind that God already has dominion over everything. Nevermind the myriad warnings in Scripture about the love of money or the allure of power. Nevermind the examples left by martyrs, apostles, and Christ himself. How are we supposed to get results by following the example of a Savior whose ultimate expression of love and power was to die in place of his enemies?

Our loss of vision would be cause enough to mourn, but I am worried that it has blended with a malicious sense of "practicality" in America today. It seems to me that believers have increasingly placed their faith in systems and strength rather than standing on the firm-but-imposing ground of faith. Sure, we believe God cares and can act. But why wait around for him when we can solve problems now?

It started innocently enough. We built our own ecosystems for media and entertainment, striving for purity through quarantine. Set up efficient networks of care to better meet the needs of our neighbors. Ran for public office to enact policies that would benefit everyone. But soon, "their stories" were poison, loving our neighbor required only a sanitary capital exchange or a quadrennial pulling of political levers, and dominance in public policy was an existential need.

Under those circumstances, we grew increasingly comfortable with practical solutions instead of impractical love. Brokenness was an unfortunate state of affairs, and doing things quickly was better than doing them right.

Time to Turn Around

I've debated writing this for over a year. I didn't want to be divisive, fuel anger, or alienate friends. I feared the entire piece would become a laundry list of grievances rather than a lament and call to action. But, given the wisdom of James 4:17, I now feel that silence would be a sin of omission. So, as you read, remember these things: I love you. I am for you. I believe you may be right, and I may be wrong.

But I cannot stand the present state of our society.

No nation can be "Christian" in the way of the Church, but faithful Christians can shape a healthier America. Despite our country's many flaws, its founding principles are rich with Biblical ideals: the worthiness of all people, the dignity of work, and the importance of good moral character. A nation populated by Christians ought to overflow with lovingkindness as it prioritizes righteousness over comfort.

A "Christian nation," or at least a nation defined by Christians and their ideals, would not have endangered millions of lives in the name of frugality while agreeing to invest in guns, tariffs, and tax breaks. It would not sit quietly while the bodies of desperate men and women pile up in its deserts, nor gleefully dehumanize them by making cruelty the core element of its response. The hands of principled believers would not unleash the world's most powerful military to perform extrajudicial killings.

A nation of Christians would not leverage its strength to bully others, court despots, and covet the land of their neighbors. It would not participate in efforts to warp the truth in defence of lawlessness or in condemnation of citizens with whom they disagreed. Certainly, it could not abide the sight of citizens shot dead in their own streets.

Friends, we haven't merely left the stool. We're actively hiding its shattered pieces. And I use the word "we" intentionally here. I suspect that anyone still reading at this point feels either contempt or vindication.

Neither is my intent.

We should be mourning together, not assigning blame or seeking moral victory. This mess belongs to all of us. It is the result of our fighting, failures, and foolishness. I know good people who were labeled monsters for casting a vote they didn't fully believe in, then calcified under the glare of that criticism. I know wise people who are willing to abandon their ideals to achieve short-lived political victories.

The rampant chaos infecting our culture and country is our fault. Yours and mine. Or it will be, if we let these patterns continue. If we cover our eyes or stoke the embers of discord, the only appropriate word for that choice will be complicity. But I believe in repentance. Grace. Forgiveness. Redemption. Healing.

These are the road forward. Maybe, if we stumble down it together, this nation can be Christ-like after all.