It is important to think through how we got to a situation where many Christians can easily make their political allegiances more important than their Christian one. One of the reasons is the rise in populism.
Christian you are not neutral. Neither am I. No one is. Your life up to this point has left an indelible imprint upon you. It has moulded your understanding of your faith and the way that you use it as a lens through which you engage with the world.
Realising this has forced me to examine myself. To think about the ways in which my culture and the events of my life have shaped me without me even realising. "Experience inescapably shapes theology." So said David French on the Good Faith podcast. A failure to recognise this fact severely hinders our Christian witness. Nowhere has this been demonstrated more in recent years than in the political sphere. In the West an increasingly hostile world has stirred up feelings of fear and social separation for many Christians and we have not always responded well to this experience.
My lifetime has seen a resurgence in populism all over the world, on both the political right and left. Populism is less defined by a consistent ideological system, more by a rhetorical framing of the world into two camps. The political, economic, and social elites, and the people. Populism presents government systems as being controlled by those they designate as the elites and working for their benefit while disadvantaging the masses. The populists claim that they will represent the people, dismantle the systems that oppress them, and defeat the elites.
All politicians, regardless of political leanings, identify with the needs of the populace and challenge the groups and institutions they disagree with. The distinction between standard political rhetoric and populist rhetoric lies in the inherent urgency and desperation embedded in the populist narrative. Populism is dependent upon cultivating a sense of group anger and fear. It takes real and legitimate problems, presents an enemy that must be defeated at all costs, and promises great reward when victory comes.
If you are not drawn to a particular populist narrative, then it can be hard to understand its appeal. One example that demonstrates this is the Brexit debate. I would argue that most of the benefits from remaining in the EU were in the hands of the middle and upper classes and that as someone who supported Remain, it is completely understandable that large numbers of working-class people who felt forgotten by their own government, let alone the one in Brussels, bought into a populist Brexit narrative. Yet many Remainers did not understand these frustrations and so could not understand the appeal of the way that some aspects of the Brexit campaign were framed. They then sowed more division as they patronised their opponents.
Christians are not immune to tales of existential threat and seeing ourselves in conflict with a powerful elite. Faced with a secularising society and a culture moving away from Christian ethics and values, it is easy to see those whom we feel are causing the problem as the enemy and justify attempting to stop them at any cost. Donald Trump is the clearest example of this in recent years. Many American evangelicals are loyal to him because they have fallen into a populist narrative of an apocalyptic culture war that must be won no matter what. They see electing Trump as the way to win. Tim Alberta, an evangelical critic of Trump, described this position as, "The barbarians are at the gates and we need a barbarian to keep them at bay."
In the biblical narrative the powers that be are both 'earthly' and 'supernatural'. Spiritual evil sits behind human evil. But this should not be mapped onto the populist 'us and them' narrative. No one political side has a monopoly on good or evil. This does not mean that policies cannot be legitimately challenged for going against Christian beliefs, but one political movement and the kingdom of God are not synonymous. To treat them as such will lead to Christians abandoning many of the principles we claim to uphold. In the words of NT Wright, "If we take up the beast's weapons in order to oppose the beast, we just become bestial ourselves."
In Revelation the beast is defeated by the one described as "King of Kings and Lord of Lords" (Revelation 19:16). He is the Lamb who was slain, who is truly worthy (Revelation 5:6-14). The only one who can truly defeat evil is Jesus. Which means that no election is the great battle that will decide the future of the world. Neither Donald Trump nor Kamala Harris is the complete embodiment of good or evil. There are Christian reasons for voting for either candidate. But Christians must not be swept up in the narrative that one of them will save us or solve all of society's problems.
As Christians we are called to speak truth to power; to hold leaders to account to the one who gives them their authority. We cannot do that if we treat our chosen candidate as if they are God's chosen. My university dissertation was on a Jewish text from around the time of Jesus. In it a small subset of God's people recounted the trials, war, and violence which they had suffered. It led to them calling out to God for a strongman who would destroy their enemies and restore them to their rightful place. But in response to their prayers God sent a king who died on a cross for his enemies and prayed for those who persecuted him. Trump is not God's king, and I pray we don't treat him like he is. No matter who wins the next US Presidential election, Christ's kingdom will continue to make headway, so look to him.
"In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33
Alex Smith recently graduated from the University of Edinburgh with a first-class degree in ancient history. He is part of the team at Christiansinpolitics.org.uk and is interested in helping Christians think through political and cultural engagement well.
