“No, I Won’t Vote Trump (and Maybe You Shouldn’t Either).*”
How Christians sold their birthright for a bowl of Trump stew.
(*And no, this doesn’t mean you should vote Biden. We’re talking bigger fish than who sits in the Oval Office)
Recently, my mom said to me, “I know you don’t love Trump, but I sure hope you’ll be able to get past that and vote for him this time.”
This is my response. Not just to my mom (who I adore!) but to all my Christian friends who wholeheartedly support Trump.
I grew up Christian, Republican, and conservative. As a 10-year-old, I stayed up way too late watching Ronald Reagan give his winning acceptance speech in 1980. What I mean to say is: I speak as a bona-fide lifelong member of the Christian conservative tribe.
More importantly, I’m speaking to you like you’re my mom or dad or sibling.
I love my parents! They taught me how to be a Christian, a man, and a citizen. I am uncomfortable disagreeing with them—and with you. Thus, I say the following with trepidation and respect:
Your support for Donald Trump is an error, and a deeply poisonous one.
Before you tune out, let me add: I understand why you support him.
There’s an old political saying (coined, ironically, by James Carville) that goes “It’s the economy, stupid.” The idea is clear: nothing matters more than a president’s impact on the country. If the economy (and related concerns) is better because of him, then nothing else matters.
Not mean tweets. Not infidelities or crass comments. Not orange skin and comb-overs.
My Trump-supporting Christian friends keep asking me: what about Trump’s policies don’t you approve of?
The honest answer: nothing, really.
There’s something bigger at stake. Something of inestimably greater importance and value.
It isn’t “the economy, stupid”.
It’s your soul, beloved.
Along with the souls of those we are meant to be reaching.
Christians in America have sold their missional birthright for a bowl of political stew.
I know that’s a charged statement. I know it stings—and probably incites a defensive, angry retort. Please bear with me and remember: I don’t hate you. I don’t think you’re a deplorable.
I’m talking to you like you’re my moms! I love my moms!
Just sit with me a minute as I try to make this case.
As Christians, we have exactly one primary allegiance and mission: our allegiance is to God, and our mission is to preach the gospel and live it out.
We do this by being, as Paul said, “all things to all men, that some might be saved.” And we live the mission out by exhibiting the fruits of the Spirit.
What does this mission look like in the era of modern evangelicalism and Donald Trump?
Like it or not, the American church has unabashedly wed itself to politics, particularly the Republican party, and specifically Donald Trump.
What is the practical result of this?
Evangelicals have gained political influence at the expense of missional relevance.
When unbelievers think of Christians today, they do not see Jesus-followers.
They see angry, spiteful, vindictive MAGA evangelicals revering a man who, in almost every respect, defies the tone, attitude, and message of the biblical Jesus.
“But Trump’s not a religious leader,” I hear you objecting, reasonably enough. And this is technically correct.
But like it or not, the evangelical church has so identified with Trump that an unbelieving world cannot be blamed for viewing that allegiance through a distinctly religious lens.
Frankly, lots of Christians talk about Trump in unambiguously religious (not merely political) terms: as God’s chosen, or His anointed, or a Christian standard-bearer. One can’t blame the world for conflating our religion and our political ringleader.
So. Let’s assume that Donald Trump was, in fact, an entirely effective president. Let’s assume his policies were good for the country. And let’s even assume that plenty of people deserved to have a little metaphorical sand kicked in their faces for decades of unfairly denigrating conservatives.
Let’s say Trump was good for “the economy, stupid.”
Has he been good for the church?
More specifically, has he been good for your soul?
What fruits of the Spirit, fellow believer, have you exhibited more as a result of Donald Trump’s ascendancy?
For your own sake, not mine, be truly honest with yourself:
Does your identification with Donald Trump cause you to experience more love for those around you?
Or, in fact, more fear?
In your years of consuming conservative media, have you exhibited more joy?
Or more worry?
What about patience and kindness? Have those fruits increased in the age of mean-tweets, mocking one’s political enemies, and “fuck your feelings” Trump yard signs?
Over the past several years, have you exhibited more generosity toward those who are different than you? Or more spite and mean pleasure at their misfortunes?
Has your faithfulness to God and his mission increased? Or instead your faithfulness to political/national allegiance?
How about gentleness and self-control? Have those fruits been more abundant in your life, despite the influence of a leader whose entire persona is based on brashness, ALL CAPS shouting, and a proud repudiation of impulse control?
I’m going to state unambiguously: the fruits of the Spirit in the current American church are demonstrably—and tragically—lacking.
And if you believe otherwise, I implore you to step out of your circle, if only for a moment. Ask a liberal non-believer friend for honest feedback: “what traits do you see in Christians today?”
What is sadly evident in the current American church are the fruits of all-too-human frailty: fear, cheerlessness, anxiety, impatience, spite, suspicion, conspiracy, anger, and brashness.
Christians have embraced political citizenship at the cost of losing their gospel relevance.
Worse, at the cost of their own Spirit-led sanctification.
As a result, the church is missionally—tragically—crippled.
I say again, it isn’t “the economy, stupid.” It’s your soul, beloved.
I’ll grant: the state of our national union is surely of immense importance to God.
But it’s nowhere near as important to him as the state of your individual soul. Or the health of his church. Or our mission to reach the lost.
Emphatically: God will never, ever prioritize the good of a nation over the health of his church, his gospel, or his ultimate kingdom.
If Trumpism has weakened the church’s soul and mission (it has), then we can be dead-certain of two things:
First: this is absolutely not God’s plan or intention. It’s a serious mistake to believe that Trump is “God’s anointed.” God will never orchestrate any good that comes at the cost of his mission or church. Only humans must “break a few eggs to make an omelet”. God’s power is in the perfection of sovereignty, never “voting for the lesser evil”.
And second: this is absolutely not Trump’s fault.
It’s our fault.
Despite what the liberal left claims, Trump is not a villain. At worst, he’s an opportunist. I don’t even think he would shy away from that label. He would embrace opportunism as part of the Art of the Deal (along with never admitting defeat).
The fault arises from our own exceedingly understandable demoralization at how conservatives have been mocked for decades, and from the merciless bullying of culture to swallow increasingly preposterous ideas, and even from the not-incorrect spiritual sense that things are deeply wrong with the world.
These are all perfectly understandable reactions.
And yet they have made us susceptible to uncharacteristically low urges.
Being demoralized has awoken in us an urge toward defiance.
Being mocked has pushed us to find pleasure in mockery.
Being bullied has ultimately (and inevitably) led us to rally behind a bully.
Trump isn’t beloved because he’s a great leader. He’s beloved because he’s Bully-in-Chief.
The poison of Trumpism is not Trump’s fault. He’s just a willing beneficiary, tapping into our wounds, our deep-seated demoralization, and our frustration of powerlessness.
We grew impatient with waiting for God to defend us and right the world’s wrongs.
So, just like the ancient Israelites, we elected a King instead.
We replaced a messiah who preached turning the other cheek and loving our enemies with a president who encourages striking first and destroying the opposition.
I totally understand this.
Giving in to those long-denied urges feels really good.
But it’s like scratching a poison ivy rash: deeply satisfying for a moment, followed by a deeper and more prolonged inflammation.
It’s time we stopped scratching our baser itches.
It’s time we, as the bride of Christ, re-ordered our allegiance.
It’s time we divorced ourselves utterly from the muck and meanness of human politics.
This doesn’t mean abandoning our responsibilities as citizens.
But it does mean re-prioritizing that responsibility so it never, ever interferes with the winsome work of our first mission: to love God, to allow the fruits of his Spirit to manifest in our daily lives, and to “be all things to all people so that some might be saved.”
What does this mean?
It might mean talking like a liberal when you’re with a liberal (and that will be much harder if you’re wearing a MAGA hat).
It might mean finding value in the convictions of your Gen Z family member even if you don’t like how they vote those convictions.
It might simply mean not openly displaying your politics, so the voice of your vote never drowns out the whisper of your witness.
Because nobody wants to be converted to the gospel of Trumpism.
And like it or not, that’s what the current evangelical church has become.
For God’s sake, mom and dad, friends and neighbors, mentors and pastors and fellow Christians all across the country: don’t sell your Christlike birthright for a bowl of political influence.
Fall back in love with the long-term peace and glory of dying to self, loving our enemies, and trusting God’s ultimate plan over any merely human political institution.
Because just like Esau back in Genesis 25, it isn’t that the stew we’re hungry for is a bad thing.
It’s that our God-given birthright is infinitely, immeasurably more important.
Republican Hulk: An MCU Analogy of the Rise (and Fall) of Trump
“We have a Hulk…”
The following is an attempt to understand how Trump happened, and what has become of the Republican electorate in his wake.
In brief, I propose that the Republican voting base has followed the same story arc as the Incredible Hulk in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (with apologies to Mark Ruffalo). Trace the following timeline (part history and part prediction) and see if I’m wrong.
Republicans until 2015: Bruce Banner
For most of recent history, Republican voters have been mild-mannered, hard-working types, quiet by nature, and generally dismayed by the clamorous rancor of the extreme left. Like Bruce Banner, they mostly just wanted to be left alone to do their thing. And yet they were increasingly provoked—encroached upon, belittled and insulted by pop culture and complicit Democrats—in an attempt to demoralize them into total obscurity.
Republicans in 2016: “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry!”
Then along came Donald Trump. He succeeded in coalescing this historically individualistic group into a singular behemoth by promising to kick sand in the face of their enemies. Trump essentially said to Republicans, “If you get angry enough, we can win.” And like Bruce Banner in the first Avengers movie, Republicans said:
Already simmering with repressed rage, Republicans responded volcanically, transforming into the Hulk and plowing Trump into the White House like an orange sledgehammer.
With their rage finally boiled over, they became drunk on it and refused to give it up.
And yet, what they rallied behind wasn’t any traditional Republican or conservative ideals. They were rallying exclusively behind a personality, Donald Trump, pledging undying fealty to him simply for daring to represent them after years of mockery (or milquetoast complacency) by everybody else.
A few traditional conservatives (ahem) recognized the problem in this, and tried to talk them down.
Republicans 2017-2019: “Sun’s getting real low…”
This works just enough to keep Republican Hulk nominally in check, at least while their guy is in office. Trump keeps his end of the deal by rabble-rousing their political enemies with constant glee, to the delight of Republican Hulk, now fully abandoned to a baser, more brute nature.
But then along comes the next election. Trump primes Republican Hulk for a landslide victory, while simultaneously provoking them with the idea that if he doesn’t win, it’s because of massive voter fraud. Republican Hulk believes this completely, because unlike Bruce Banner, the Hulk is pretty dumb. He wants only to smash, and is content with any excuse.
Sure enough, Trump loses the election. Republican Hulk starts to growl with burgeoning rage. And a few reasonable voices (Ahem!) attempt to talk the Hulk down again…
Republicans in 2020: Hulk Ragnarok
Only this time the Hulk’s having none of it.
Republican Hulk turns on anyone, even former allies, who don’t share their rage-fueled lust to destroy. This is the Hulk of “Thor Ragnarok”. Trump, like Jeff Goldblum’s GameMaster, has been pitting his pet gladiator Hulk against all opponents (“fake news”, Democrats, anyone who doesn’t sycophantically support him) and relishing the resulting swathe of destruction. Republican Hulk now hates the mild-manner Bruce Banner that they used to be, and vows to never again be such a little wuss.
Republicans in 2021: Hulk vs. Hulkbuster Armor
With the Trump-provoked incursion into the Capitol building, resulting in five dead, Republican Hulk has lost all sense of control, purpose, and ideology. This is Hulk from “Age of Ultron”, rampaging through the city, destroying for no reason, blinded by a frenzy of aimless fury.
Moderate voices (AHEM!) are no longer trying to placate Republican Hulk and explain/apologize for them. Now, we have no choice but to be Tony Stark in his Hulkbuster Armor attempting to forcibly take the big guy down.
Like Tony, we moderates feared this day would come, and have mentally prepared. Republican Hulk represents decent people—the country’s Bruce Banners—who have forgotten everything they once stood for and abandoned their identity to a bully demagogue. There is no talking them down anymore. They have to be subdued by force until they can regain control of themselves. Like Tony Stark, we don’t want to hurt them. We don’t hate them. We just need them to stop rampaging until they can remember who they are and come to their senses. Please, please, just come to your senses.
Republicans after 2021: Pouting Hulk
In the wake of this, Republican Hulk will not, in fact remember who they are and come to their senses. They will be like Hulk in “Infinity War”: demoralized and petulant, that Hulk refuses to engage in even a worthy battle, defying Bruce Banner’s pleas.
Like Pouting Hulk, Trump Republicans will retreat in angry petulance. They will not support moderate Republican candidates. They will deliberately allow their own party to starve into irrelevance, simply out of bitter pouting over the defeat of their demagogue. This will last a good long time.
Republicans eventually: Smart Hulk
Ideally, eventually, Republican Hulk and Republican Bruce Banner will realize they don’t have to be one or the other. Like Smart Hulk in “Endgame”, they will reconcile the two, strengthening their Banner side with a steel backbone, and restraining their Hulk side with moderation and intellectual honesty.
This is an ideal situation, of course, and possibly too much to hope for. But I’m an optimist, and I love a good story.
Maybe next time I’ll tackle how the Democrat party is analogous to Loki.
And now a few essential take-home points:
Republicans: stop conflating Republican Hulk with conservatives/conservatism. Republican Hulk isn’t conservative any more than MCU Hulk is a scientist. Quit whinging about how “conservatives are under attack and being censored online!” Nobody minds you representing conservatism. For God’s sake REPRESENT CONSERVATISM. What everybody minds (and understandably censors) is Republican Hulk rampaging online, spouting Q-anon, gun-toting, threat-level, TAKE THE COUNTRY BACK, militia-mongering BS.
So stop doing that. Become Bruce Banner again. And tell your friends to do the same.
Democrats: stop crowing about how awful militant Republicans are after applauding militant Democrats. You can’t say of your group “violence is justifiable protest!” and then condemn violence when it comes in Republican flavor. Those Republicans storming the Capitol represent a huge chunk of America that feels they’ve been denied a voice (in mainstream culture, at least) for many years. Were they right to interpret that as an excuse for violence? In the strongest words, NO. They were reckless, blinded idiots operating out of frenzy.
You’re right that the insurrection in the Capitol isn’t the same as the violence and looting that happened during protests across the country last summer (and in previous years). But only by technicalities and matters of degree. Is it worse to traipse around the Capitol like jackasses with malicious intent, or to loot and set fire to businesses belonging to your neighbors? Both resulted in property damage, injury, and loss of life. Both were fueled by opportunistic politicians. Both were justified in the name of offense and justice.
I suggest that they are either both reprehensible abuses of their cause, or neither. Double standards are the ugliest and more pervasive thing about our current political state. If it’s hunky-dory when your guys do it, but terrible when the other guy does, then there’s something seriously wrong with your sense of intellectual honesty.
Both sides: Stop burning the bridges. Like it or not, both sides need each other. Kept in balance, liberals and conservatives balance the dual natures of humanity. If you truly succeed in “destroying” the other side, all you’ll accomplish is to saw off the branch you’re standing on. So quit it.
Loki needs Hulk, and Hulk needs Loki. They can hate each other. They just can’t afford to destroy each other.
G. Norman Lippert's Shiftlock 