There is no way to peace along the way to safety. For peace must be dared. It is the great venture. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Address at Fano
This morning I ran into my neighbors on the sidewalk—always a delight. (I ran into them in the figurative sense, of course. If it were literal, that would not have been delightful.) We talked about our summer and how they had just dropped off their kids at college and about the state of our homes and about the state of our country. Mostly we ended up talking about the state of our country.
Their youngest daughter just started school at a private university with a Quaker background. In her first few days, she’s meeting people and making new friends and enjoying the bent toward a contemplative lifestyle that is encouraged at the school. She already has come to appreciate the emphasis on seeking peace in all relationships—a characteristic that runs contrary to the political environment we find ourselves in.
I affirmed how enriching that must be for her—and how much I wish that attitude held more sway in our everyday lives. They share the sentiment. Their older daughter attends school in DC and has experienced the earie strangeness of a capitol city that is being patrolled by National Guard troops. Parts of the city feel like a ghost town and the disconnect of seeing soldiers with guns on the street corners in the capitol is deeply troubling. The capitol, mind you, of the nation that has for eight decades served as an arbiter of peace. The term pax americana that describes the world order since the end of WWII did not evolve arbitrarily—we earned it! And now, literally within 8 months, we have frittered that reputation away. On the world front, we have ceased to be a reliable partner in defending democracy over tyranny. On the home front, we have turned to overt demonstrations of military force to intimidate and cudgel our own citizens.
“How did we get here?” we asked each other. “How did we get to the place where sending armed troops into Washington, DC seemed like a good idea to half of our nation?” Don’t we remember what happened when we sent troops to quell the anti-war protests at Kent State? Armed troops patrolling everyday citizens can be a lethal combination.
As we talked, my personal sadness came to the fore. I confessed my deep sense of remorse and shame that it is my people—my tribe—that are the most loyal supporters of Trump’s policies. “Yeah,” they acknowledged, “that makes no sense to us either. What Jesus is it who encourages us to disenfranchise the immigrants and to hate the opposition party?”
What Jesus, indeed?
This week, Stephen Miller, Trump’s Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy, asserted on Hannity:
“Look, we discussed this last time I was on your show. The Democrat party does not fight for, care about or represent American citizens. It is an entity devoted exclusively to the defense of hardened criminals, gangbangers, and illegal alien killers and terrorists. The Democrat party is not a political party. It is a domestic, extremist organization.”
It saddens me that the state of politics in our nation has brought us to this. The Trump administration is making every effort to delegitimize the Democratic Party en masse. This is not about constructive dialog with fellow leaders with whom we disagree. This is the art of the ad hominem attack, pure and simple.
It saddens me even more deeply that so many of my brothers and sisters uncritically accept the defamation. How did “dehumanize your opponent” become accepted political strategy? Don’t we believe that every human being is created in the image of God and uniquely worthy of respect? Isn’t democracy founded upon the belief that compromise with political opponents is not only possible, but that it helps deter policies that are based on grift and self-interest?
I realize that by writing these comments, I risk alienating those who I consider to be my Christian family. I remain deeply committed to pursue the unity of the Spirit with each of my brothers and sisters. But genuine unity must be based upon honest dialog. Thus I am compelled to call attention to the slippery slope our nation stands on at this moment in our history.
Is this really the country we want? Do we really want armed troops in the street patrolling ordinary citizens? Doesn’t that look an awful lot like the authoritarian regimes we despise (or at least feel sorry for)?
Do we really want a country that distrusts and rejects scientific (and nonpartisan!) public health experts because our leaders are prone to conspiracy theories? When he resigned in protest this week, CDC Chief Dr. Demetre Daskalakis wrote: “I am not sure who the Secretary is listening to, but it is quite certainly not to us at the CDC. Unvetted and conflicted outside organizations seem to be the sources HHS use over the gold standard science of CDC and other reputable sources.”
Do we really choose to ignore his warning? Do we really prefer RFK Jr.’s untested personal musings about vaccine health over the collaborative work of hundreds of scientists from his own CDC team? Have we fallen that far? I’m reminded that in the killing fields of Cambodia, the first people the Khmer Rouge came after were the professors. The Trump administration’s preference for loyalty over competence is in itself a sickness.
Did we really want DOGE lackeys to, against policy and in spite of intense protestations from SSA officials, upload the private Social Security data of 315 million citizens to the cloud, where they remain inaccessible to experts whose job it is to guard the integrity of the data? Does that help us sleep better at night?
And do we really believe that Emil Bove, Trump’s former criminal defense attorney, is seriously a good choice for lifetime appointment to the 3rd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals? Does it increase our confidence in our justice system to know that Bove is on the bench, a man who reputedly told his justice department team that if the courts tell us that we can’t deport immigrants without first giving them a hearing, then we’ll have to say “F**k you!” to the courts? When over 900 former Justice Department attorneys submitted a letter opposing his nomination, do we seriously think it’s OK to simply ignore their warning? Isn’t “lawlessness” one of the character traits Christians are meant to be especially mindful of and to guard themselves against at all cost? “Lawless” is perhaps the first characteristic that comes to mind when I think about Emil Bove. And in this assessment, I am not alone.
My brothers and sisters in Christ, especially my fellow pastors, I appeal to you: think carefully and deeply about the fruit of the current administration. And if you feel compelled, discuss your thoughts openly with other members of your church community. Follow in the pathway of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who chose not to be silent in the face of a grave moral threat that was disguised as cultural Christianity. He was neither belligerent nor cowardly. He did not succumb to the slippery slope on either side. He was willing to offend, but always in humility. In his own words:
Christianity stands or falls with its revolutionary protest against violence, arbitrariness and pride of power and with its plea for the weak. Christians are doing too little to make these points clear rather than too much. Christendom adjusts itself far too easily to the worship of power. Christians should give more offense, shock the world far more, than they are doing now. Christian should take a stronger stand in favor of the weak rather than considering first the possible right of the strong. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Sermon on II Corinthians 12:9
A critique of the American Evangelical Church during the second Trump presidency
Last week America celebrated its 249th birthday. Like many of you, Karen and I celebrated together with friends while watching the neighbors propel multiple hundreds of dollars’ worth of fireworks into the air above us. (I’ve got to admit… in spite of my conviction about the unnecessary expense, they looked pretty cool).
During our nation’s birthday week, a number of events with far-reaching implications took place, including the tragic floods in Texas that gripped the heart of the nation. The death toll exceeded that of any flood event for decades. Unsurprisingly, there is already internal reporting that the Trump administration cuts to FEMA have reduced the number of personnel who ordinarily would have been involved in the recovery efforts. Like so much of the DOGE project, the cuts they instigated often proved to be reckless and capricious. With the prime hurricane season still in front of us, we have yet to see to what extent the federal relief efforts will be impacted.
Last week we were also reminded that much of the Trump agenda runs in direct contradiction to Christian moral principles of truth, justice, and charity. Sadly, however, that moral tension seemed to barely register on the radar of politically active Evangelicals. I offer three examples.
On July 1st, USAID was officially shuttered. The congressionally established governmental organization, one of the first to fall to the DOGE onslaught, has for over five decades been the most consistent enemy of world hunger on the planet, far outstripping efforts mounted by the private sector. Karen and I, like many of you, give consistently to Christian NGOs in order to combat global poverty. But the elimination of USAID from the charity landscape will leave a gigantic hole that is nearly impossible to fill, estimated to result in fourteen million additional deaths over the next five years. God’s people, whom Jesus called to minister to the “least of these,” ought to be deeply troubled. Instead, I have heard next to nothing. Apparently our concern for the “least of these” is minimalized when the “least” live very far away and don’t look like us.
About the same time, the Senate was entrenched in the effort by Republicans to affirm Trump’s so called One Big Beautiful Bill Act and return it to the House for passage. In order to overcome objections, Senate Republicans engaged in an exercise of budget chicanery that deliberately ignored Senate rules and precedent related to the Budget reconciliation process. They simply changed the rules for calculating the budget and decided that, because the tax cuts the bill proposed had already been put into effect since 2017, they ought to no longer be calculated as adding to the deficit moving forward. The bill clearly adds $4.5 trillion to the deficit over the next decade, but after their sleight of hand, Republicans claimed that $3.8 trillion of that amount “didn’t count.”
The fact that supposedly honest and competent senators could propose such a scheme and not raise the alarm and ire of the public is testimony to the outlandishly sheepish nature of the Republican Party. As economists have observed, this move is equivalent to asserting that just because I’m used to paying my Xfinity bill, my decision to renew my contract for another three years will cost me nothing. It’s pure nonsense – a boldfaced deception. Even more so when it comes from the party that supposedly is especially committed to trimming the deficit. That kind of behavior deserves critique of the first order, especially from Christ followers who are committed to truthfulness in all of their dealings. And how has the Evangelical Community responded thus far? Crickets.
On July 3rd at a purportedly bipartisan “Salute to America” event in Iowa, President Trump declared to a raucous and decidedly partisan crowd, “They wouldn’t vote [for the spending bill], only because they hate Trump. But I hate them, too. You know that? I really do. I hate them. I cannot stand them, because I really do believe they hate our country.”
In our present political environment, the gravity of that statement may be lost on us, but that was actually the first time in history that a president of the United States has openly declared his hatred of the opposition party. Past presidents may have felt similar emotions—they may have been provoked to wrath in private. But presidents up till now have recognized their calling to unite the nation and have refrained from such incendiary rhetoric. Not Trump. Instead, he seems to enjoy launching himself into the fray. That tendency seems particularly unwise considering the reality that a Minnesota state representative and her husband were murdered just three weeks ago in what appears to be a politically motivated attack.
I can almost see the eye-rolls of some of my MAGA friends and colleagues right now. “Give me a break,” they might argue. “Trump is admittedly a blowhard who specializes in bombast. Everyone knows that. Like Trump himself asserted the other day, we ought to give him some room to be sarcastic!”
To that I counter: Trump is the one who chose to make the issue all about him. His claim that Democrats refused to vote for this bill (one that will result in between 12-17 million losing their health insurance and that facilitates a massive transfer of wealth from the poorest 20% in America to the richest) because they “hate Trump” is a narcissistic delusion. His deliberate effort to villainize the Democratic Party is far from sarcastic. Liberal democracies are built upon the foundation of mutual respect between political opponents who disagree with each other. Civility toward those who disagree is not only a characteristic of Christ followers, it is a hallmark of democratic dialogue. Trump actively seeks to dismantle respect and weaponize distrust. By his telling, anyone who disagrees with him “hates Trump.”
After 10 full years during which Trump has dominated the political landscape, the events of the past week should not surprise me. The way the majority of my Christian friends are responding to such nonsense, however, continues to astound. According to Pew Research, “Around seven-in-ten White evangelicals rate the ethics of top Trump administration officials as good (35%) or excellent (34%). By contrast, among the public overall, most (62%) rate the ethics of the Trump administration as only fair or poor.” The way I interpret that, my unbelieving friends and neighbors have a better nose for the Trump administration’s lack of ethical foundation than do my own brothers and sisters in Christ. Donald Trump and the MAGA movement have not only taken over the GOP; they have reshaped the Evangelical Church. That reshaping is profoundly demonstrated in their (our) willingness to normalize unethical behavior.
Are they ashamed of their detestable conduct? No, they have no shame at all; they do not even know how to blush. (Jeremiah 6:15)
Back in the 90’s, during his last decade on earth, my dad was often asked to preach from a sermon series he entitled “The Human Face of God.” In it, he examined some of the uncommon anthropomorphisms in Scripture and expounded on what they tell us about the God’s character. “When God Spits,” “When God Laughs,” and “When God Winks” were some of the titles. The one that always struck me the hardest was “When God Blushed.” In that sermon Dad spoke about the human propensity to grow accustomed to sin—to become so habituated to wantonness that we don’t even blush at the things that cause God to blush.
I have often thought about that sermon and its present day applicability during the past decade. Humans normalize sin for a variety of reasons: to justify what they find pleasurable, for example, or to defend questionable actions taken out of self-interest. The justifications flow quite readily. “Others do even worse,” we might argue. Or, “I’m fighting for a just cause.”
The contention that the ends justify the means has gained quite a following among Evangelicals during the Trump era. How often have you heard, “We’re not electing a pastor—we’re electing a president! In our corrupt political environment, we don’t need a leader who pussy foots around. We need a leader who is willing to get his hands dirty.” By means of that excuse, all manner of bad behavior is justified. Those who shouted most loudly that “character matters” during the Clinton administration now embrace Trump, not simply in spite of his character flaws, but because of them.
I understand his appeal. Trump’s colloquial, meandering speaking style definitely has an “everyman” quality to it. Though his cynical, mocking air appalls me, his sense of humor is intriguing and his quips are often masterfully timed. He mysteriously invokes the impression that he understands your pain, even though he himself has led an exceedingly charmed existence.
In spite of his remarkable advantages, however, he remains willfully vindictive, spiteful, capricious, and transactional in the extreme. What may have shocked us in the early stages of Trump’s political career is now simply another expression of the Trump brand. The normalization follows a predictable pattern: At first, puzzlement over condemnable behavior, which then gives way to excusing it and eventually becomes a full throated acceptance. In the first Trump campaign, his “locker room talk” at first gave my fellow Christians pause, but they soon graduated to “the perfect phone call” with Zelenskyy, then to fully embracing the election lie and, when Trump left office, to doubling down on the “big lie” and to calling the intruders at the Capitol “patriots.”
In the second presidency, the wheels are already greased. There is not even the hint of a blush when Trump fires the Inspectors General, spirits immigrants away to El Salvador in the middle of the night without affording them due process, calls for judges who oppose him to be impeached, and actively defies court orders. Evangelicals, who have long prided themselves on being proponents of law and order, now aggressively support a president when he defies the constitutional rule of law.
The Steady Descent into Hypocrisy
I contend that the Evangelical Church has fallen prey to a grave deception. Trump knew and understood our longing to “influence the culture.” He has successfully harnessed that desire to the MAGA populist agenda. Evangelicals who have long sought after people of influence who could shape cultural norms in keeping with their value system were quick to go along, perhaps oblivious to the dark quest for power inherent in Trump’s movement (or perhaps deliberately embracing it). Evangelicals have acquiesced to the aspirations of “the MAGA tribe,” so much so that they no longer recognize how profoundly the tribe parts ways with Jesus. A few strategically placed buzzwords—abortion rights, transgender participants in sports, or “the woke agenda”—are sufficient to lull them into believing that Trump and Jesus are on the same team.
The Church’s failed moral leadership regarding the MAGA agenda is not simply a political matter. It has far reaching spiritual ramifications. The legitimacy of the Church’s witness is at stake. Many who might have been spiritually open to Christianity are asking the question, “If Christians are gullible enough to fall for Trump’s self-serving lies that he won the 2020 election, why should I trust what they have to say about ultimate matters of life after death?” In point of fact, Evangelicals have shown themselves to be especially vulnerable to Trump’s authoritarian leanings and have are all too willing to surrender cherished democratic principles such as the separation of powers. We see it played out in real time. The deafening drumbeat of Trump’s claims of government fraud and incompetence combined with his flood of executive orders has numbed our ability to discern the true facts on the ground. The Trump playbook, as famously articulated by Steve Bannon, is to “flood the zone with sh__.” Our nation now finds itself buried in it.
Trusting a treacherous person at a difficult time is like having a bad tooth or a wobbly foot. (Proverbs 25:19)
One of the more remarkable examples of how the Church has been willing to shift its loyalty relates to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The majority opinion among Evangelicals in 2022 was a robust denunciation of Russia’s militancy and robust praise for the resilient Ukrainians. Trump, on the other hand, has always expressed skepticism toward Ukraine. He continuously redacted his lackluster support for its democratically elected leadership until it devolved into an outright defense of the Russian point of view. On the three-year anniversary of Russia’s attack, the US ambassador to the UN voted with Russia and North Korea against impugning Russia with the full blame for the war. Shortly thereafter, our Commander in Chief ordered our government to stop sharing intelligence with Ukraine. This policy change, though ultimately rescinded, resulted in hundreds of additional casualties according to Ukrainian officials. One officer stated bluntly, “This is not politics – this is treachery!”
Steve Witkoff, the US special envoy to the Middle East, in an utter revocation of Reagan foreign policy, regularly parrots Russian talking points that Ukraine is responsible for the continuation of the war. And Republican lawmakers hardly blinked last week when Hegseth, apparently without consulting the president (think about that for a moment!), canceled an approved shipment of Patriot missiles that are essential to Ukraine’s air defense.
Speaking of Hegseth, allow me a brief aside. Imagine, if you will, that you fill the shoes of 4-star General Charles Q. Brown, Jr. All your adult life you have demonstrated an exceptional capacity for leadership in what many consider to be the most prestigious meritocracy in the world—the United States military. You now enjoy the untarnished affirmation of your peers and your country as the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. If any job on the planet could be described as having been earned, it is this one.
Then, Trump is elected to his second term. The person who he appoints as your new boss is not only your inferior in respect to his rank, he is your inferior in every aspect of his character. He is a known philanderer (adultery is a betrayal of the military code of conduct), a known drunkard, and a known misogynist. He possesses no strategic expertise that qualifies him to lead 1.3 million active duty personnel. His only qualifications appear to be his square jaw that looks good on television combined with his willingness to support Trump’s every whim, even when it runs contrary to the constitution.
Then, imagine that the newly reelected president fires you in the middle of your four-year term. He apparently agrees with Hegseth, who had the audacity to write this about the circumstances of your appointment: “Was it because of his skin color? Or his skill? We’ll never know, but always doubt.” Coming from a man who never advanced beyond the rank of captain while serving in the United States Army but now serves as Secretary of Defense, the hypocrisy of this statement is as laughable as it is tragic. It ought to make our skin crawl. But did Republican lawmakers stand up in defense of a Black four-star general who was highly respected by his fellow officers? We know the answer to that. They did, however, insist (without evidence) that Hegseth had reformed his ways and could be trusted not to drink on this job. They have forgotten how to blush.
Returning to Trump’s Ukraine policy, it is impossible to imagine that Evangelicals during the Reagan era might have remained silent if the US ambassador to the UN aligned with the Soviet Union and against free Europe! And yet, here we are. Christian believers, of all people, ought to understand that treaties are akin to covenants. They are not merely transactional arrangements, as Trump seems to see them. We dare not forget that the US engaged in a Trilateral Agreement (covenant) with Russia and Ukraine promising to stand up for Ukraine’s independence in exchange for Ukraine’s willingness to give up its nuclear arsenal (the third largest in the world at that time). A covenant to defend implies that a nation will offer assistance regardless of whether or not it receives a calculable benefit. Our European allies recognize how dangerous the world is if NATO treaty agreements aren’t taken seriously. Christians who know from their scriptures what a covenant entails, ought to be troubled, as well.
Conclusion: A Call to Righteous Resistance
Centuries ago the prophet Jeremiah, at risk to his own life, boldly spoke words of harsh rebuke to a nation that purported to obey Yahweh but were in fact only loyal to their own best interests.
“From the least to the greatest, all are greedy for gain; prophets and priests alike, all practice deceit. They dress the wound of my people as though it were not serious. ‘Peace, peace,’ they say, when there is no peace. Are they ashamed of their detestable conduct? No, they have no shame at all; they do not even know how to blush.”
The Evangelical Church in America must recover its prophetic voice. We are called to be a people who mourn over sin rather than rationalize it—who stand for truth even when it is politically costly. We presently have a president who lies without blushing and threatens to “primary” any Republican lawmaker who dares to publicly disagrees with him. Sadly, many Christ followers have not only become numb to his bullying behavior, they have appropriated it. Our witness has been tarnished not because we engage in politics, but because we do so without discernment and without humility. We excuse what Christ would confront and embrace leaders whose character contradicts what Christ commands.
This is not just a political crisis—it is a spiritual one. The moral confusion of the Evangelical Church has become so entrenched that many no longer recognize it as such. Having accepted our tribe’s partisan point of view, we vilify “the other” as the enemy—considering them unworthy of our respect. Christ’s clarion call to “love your enemies” and “do good to those who despitefully use you” fails to land in our hearts. Evangelical cockiness is all too familiar to the people around us. Job’s sarcastic complaint to his comforters could aptly be levied at us: “Doubtless you are the only people who matter, and wisdom will die with you!” (Job 12:2)
I am not contending that Evangelicals ought to abandon the Republican Party. I am simply pleading for a more critical approach. Our willingness to look the other way when Trump and his administration clearly violate both constitutional and God ordained moral law serves neither our nation nor its leadership. Regaining our prophetic voice will only happen when we rediscover what it means to be ashamed of sin, including our own. When we learn once again how to blush.
My last blog incited considerable reaction and feedback. I’m very grateful that so many of you engaged with me. It indicates that people haven’t simply succumbed to indifference. You definitely care about the election results and you care about truth based on evidence.
Of course, where we mine our evidence significantly impacts the conclusions we come to. And you who read my blog represent a broad spectrum of our citizenry. Quite obviously some readers are mining their data from quite different sources than I am. Although I don’t concur with the post-modern tenet that “all truth claims are power claims,” I must admit that the premise seems validated in the current social climate. Assertions about what is really going on in this election are bandied about like so many badminton shuttlecocks, each ferociously spiked with the confidence of absolute certainty. In the end, the conclusion one reaches depends upon which side of the court they prefer.
The vehemence with which someone asserts their opinion is by no means an indicator of its truthfulness. It is, however, very likely to be an indicator of the group to which they belong. I may be convinced of the truthfulness of certain “facts,” but convincing another person of my point of view will depend precious little upon my ability to articulate those facts in a cogent manner. That is especially true if I am an outsider to the group that defines their identity. The only chance for me to gain a hearing is if they perceive me as a likeable person and an honest broker.
In an over-saturated information society, accepted orthodoxy can change incredibly quickly. A few seeds of doubt, cunningly placed within a Tweet, can shake previously held beliefs that were considered rock solid (especially if the Tweet came from my side). A commitment to evidence based reasoning requires that people check sources and, just as important, refuse to pass along rumors. But that virtue is in short supply. Context matters and sound bites (or video clips) divorced from context can be distorted in order to imply all manner of untruth. That is why the character of those who govern is ultimately decisive.
Political parties coalesce around a set of policy initiatives that they prefer. Legislators and executives then try to implement those policies through the democratic process. The extent to which leaders are able to put them into action, however, is more dependent upon their personal character than it is upon the compelling logic of the platform. That is because the power of a platform does not reside in the words on paper, but in their implementation.
For example, much attention has been given to Harris’s flip-flop regarding fracking policy. Five years ago as a candidate for the Democratic nomination, Harris stated, “There’s no question I’m in favor of banning fracking.” But since her nomination in 2024, Harris contends, “As vice president, I did not ban fracking; as president, I will not ban fracking.” She argues that the policy plank has not changed, but that she now understands that it is not necessary to ban fracking and still wholeheartedly pursue a clean energy economy.
On the other hand, the Republican “law and order” platform proved to be quite malleable by Trump’s interpretation. Shortly after the assault on the law enforcement officers at the Capitol on January 6th, Trump described it as “a heinous attack” but tried to square the blame on purported infiltrators of the rally. After the original deflection proved to be untenable, Trump’s account of the day morphed into a “peaceful and patriotic” walk to the Capitol. Most recently in his Univision town hall interview, it emerged as “a day of love.” All the while, the party’s law and order platform plank supposedly remained unscathed.
These examples illustrate a key principle: The how is often more impactful than the what. If a party platform is wielded by leaders who lack solid ethical grounding, the temptation to appropriate “the end justifies the means” thinking will be difficult to resist. Lying, unfair deal-making, and demonizing the opponent are rationalized as legitimate means to an end. But a democratic system depends upon the ability of leaders to engage with those who disagree with them in order to reach constructive compromise. That can only happen if each side believes that the others are negotiating in good faith. Trustworthiness remains an essential element of that exchange. And the extent to which leaders bind themselves to the discipline of truth-telling depends upon their ability to place the interests of others before their own. This is a central tenet of Christian ethics –“not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” It is also, according to Jesus, the first duty of leadership. “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them … Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant.”
Years ago, Robert Greenleaf argued convincingly that the servant leader is not only a model for leadership within the Christian Church, but has broad applicability in the public sector, including politics. I was reminded of that fact when I read Tom Nichols’ fascinating essay in the November issue of The Atlantic. Nichols, a fine scholar of history who taught for years at the U.S. Naval War College, documents the essential elements of character that made George Washington’s presidency so remarkable and so foundational. Nichols then contrasts those character qualities with those that Trump manifests, particularly in respect to the result of the 2020 election. Nichols points to three pivotal qualities of our first president’s character.
First, Washington was committed to being a citizen, not a Caesar. Although Alexander Hamilton wrote that Washington became a figure “to whom the world is offering incense,” the General refused to accept special privileges that others wanted to bestow upon him. He expected the same of the soldiers who served in his army, insisting that they must conduct themselves as those who after the war would live side by side with the people they were now defending. He resisted their efforts to dispossess the population of food supplies even though it meant severe deprivation on the part of his troops.
In contrast, Nichols observes, Trump tried to treat the military as his own militia. He often publicly referred to “my generals” and was even prepared to turn their might against the American people, asking General Mark Milley to use force to disband protestors near the White House in 2020. “Beat the fuck out of them,” Trump instructed Milley. After leaving office Trump’s second Chief of Staff, John Kelly, described Trump as a “person that has no idea what America stands for and has no idea what America is all about.”
Second, George Washington was a man in command of himself. Nichols writes that “he was at times seized by vanity, anxiety, and private grievances. He was moody. His occasional burst of temper could be fearsome.” Nevertheless, he remained “keenly aware” of his own shortcomings. “He rarely allowed his pride to congeal into arrogance, nor his insecurities to curdle into self-pity.” His stoic character helped him to avoid the trap of unproductive public wrangling.
Trump, on the other hand, deliberately makes his grievances public. And he invites the public to be aggrieved along with him. An aggrieved public provides Trump with the opportunity to fill a role that uniquely suits him. “I am your retribution,” Trump has frequently proclaimed. I know this sounds snarky, but I think it fits: apparently Trump misidentified the one speaking in the Bible passage, “Vengeance is mine.”
Third, Nichols points out one of the most important lessons from Washington’s legacy. In the words of John Kelly, “He went home.” Washington resisted the pressure from without and from within to turn the president into a king. He willingly and graciously stepped down from office, a step that was without precedent in Washington’s world. He thus became a model and example for all the nations that would follow in the pathway of democracy and for every American president who would succeed him. Until number forty-five.
If a voter dismisses character as the most significant element in their choice, they choose to invest power in a person who does know how to wield it. The President of the United States does not merely (or even primarily) press a policy agenda based on a party platform. A president must respond to unexpected crises such as the COVID pandemic or the invasion of Ukraine or increasing ballistic missile launches from North Korea or an escalating war in the Middle East. The president plays a major role in setting the tone of the nation in moments of crisis. The president assists in bringing competing political parties together in order to pursue the common good.
A voter must ask the question, which candidate is, by virtue of character, better suited to respond wisely in moments of crisis? Which candidate is more likely to seek competent counsel? Which candidate is more likely to lay personal benefit aside for the sake of the greater good? Which candidate is more likely to take personal responsibility for failed policy decisions?
Some readers will answer each of those questions in the affirmative for Donald Trump. When made out of conviction, I respect their choice. I understand that the issues in this election are exceedingly complex and sincere people will come to different conclusions. That is how democracy works.
Other readers will raise the legitimate criticism that I have not said a word about the deficits in Kamala Harris’ character. I do not argue that Harris as a candidate is unimpugnable. Instead, I argue that Harris is a normal candidate cut from a typical mold of public servants who have deeply held policy positions but who honor the constitution above party or personal benefit. Trump, on the other hand, is an atypical candidate who has demonstrated by his actions that he does not honor the constitution above his personal interests and is willing to pervert it if it serves him.
Each voter must decide to whom they listen. I have chosen to listen to individuals who worked closely with Trump during his presidency. General John Kelly and General Mark Milley—disciplined military men with a stellar record of public service—have declared that Trump is a danger to our democracy. Fully half of his cabinet members while he held office and multiple high-level staffers have documented their refusal to support him. His own Vice President says that he should not be entrusted with the presidency again.
The subtitle of Nichols’ essay declares: “Donald Trump is the tyrant the first president feared.” Washington understood the fickleness of the human condition. He recognized that, “amid constant political warfare, some citizens would come to ‘seek security and repose in the absolute power of an individual’ and that eventually a demagogue would exploit that sentiment.” I am reminded of a recent conversation with one of my German friends. He explained to me that he had often asked himself over the years, “What is it that made the German people uniquely susceptible to Hitler’s deception. What is wrong with us?” Now Trump’s persistent influence in American politics has caused him to recognize that the fault lies not in the German heart, but in the human heart. All peoples are susceptible to authoritarian seduction.
Nichols concludes his essay with the observation that “Some Americans seem unable to accept how much peril they face should Trump return.” I write this in order to urge those few voters who are still undecided to carefully consider that peril. Trump’s character deficits will cost the nation dearly if he is reelected.
Since you’re still reading this after seeing the title, thanks for being willing to consider my argument. For those who reached the same conclusion months or years ago, I hope that my thoughts resonate with you. But the group I would especially like to address are the Christians who believe that a biblical world view should inform our politics and who voted for Trump in previous elections for the sake of Christian principles. Though I have never voted for Trump, I believe that you and I share very similar core values. My interpretation of those values has led me, a life-long Republican, to once again abandon the Republican nominee. I write this in order to entreat you to seriously consider taking the same step.
I remember the days when Republicans asserted that the character of a leader mattered more than party affiliation. In the name of “character matters,” they agreed with Democrats to seek the impeachment of President Nixon. He knew they would follow through on that commitment and stepped down from office before it could happen. In the name of “character matters,” Republicans declared President Clinton unfit for office and voted to impeach him. With President Trump, the logic twisted. And thousands of Church leaders and self-professed moral crusaders have gone so far as to herald Donald Trump as “God’s anointed.”
The nature of the current presidential campaign is indeed unprecedented. Never before has a presidential nominee faced a litany of felony charges while at the same time running for office. Never before has a plethora of current and former leaders within a political party endorsed the opponent’s nominee because they consider their own nominee to be not only unfit to hold office, but to pose a genuine threat to the democratic process. And never before has the conservative Christian coalition of voters stood so steadfastly behind a candidate who demonstrates core character qualities that are opposed to the fruit of the Spirit.
I have written in previous blogs about how we got to this point. The political right-wing has for decades preached the doctrine that conservatives are an abused class, mocked by the political left and misrepresented in the so called “mainstream media.” When I read or listen to right-wing news sources, I understand why the sense of grievance has grown. The charge that “everything is rigged against us” is relentless and works its way under the skin. Trump, more than any politician before him, harnessed that grievance to his advantage. Conservative Christians, who are often quick to identify evidence of religious persecution from their fellow citizens and political leaders, were predisposed to Trump’s messaging.
Trump also harnessed the theologically conservative Church’s opposition to abortion (even though Trump’s personal stance on the subject wavers according to the context he finds himself in). I have many friends who voted for Trump largely because they anticipated that his Supreme Court nominations would overturn Roe v. Wade. I admit that the constant drumbeat of “protecting women’s reproductive rights” from the Democratic ticket wears on my spirit. I maintain the conviction that the fetus is not a part of the mother’s body, but a developing human person in its own right. Like many of my Christian brothers and sisters, I believe that placing some restrictions on abortion is a valid and just expression of public policy. But Trump’s opposition to abortion remains politically motivated, at best. And now he sees fit to pull back from the topic and “let the states decide.”
Abortion is an important moral issue and government’s role in restricting it will continue to be debated. What should not be up for debate, however, is the peaceful transfer of power under constitutional law. Despite the revisionist history that the MAGA movement would thrust upon us, Donald Trump engaged in a conspiracy to overthrow a valid election. He did so in the plain sight of the American people. He continues to assert baseless claims of election fraud to this very day. No matter what policy planks you may favor or what party you prefer, Donald Trump is not a credible option as a candidate for president. He broke his covenant to defend and protect the constitution of the United States. That disqualifies him. Regardless of whatever else he may claim.
When Jack Smith’s Immunity Filing was released this week, the degree to which it impacted you probably depends upon your previously held convictions. For those who followed the January 6th Committee hearings two years ago, there were no bomb-shell revelations in this filing. It simply served as a confirmation of the testimony given under oath in the hearings. The filing is indeed remarkable, however, in that it relies on the sworn testimony of multiple Trump administration insiders who did not testify in the January 6th congressional hearings, including testimony from former Vice President Pence.
It continues to shock me that the findings of the January 6th Committee are so easily swept aside by so many of my fellow believers. Therefore, I would like to make one last appeal before the next election: please read the Filing on Presidential Immunity. Smith was asked to file this brief because of the Supreme Court’s recent decision granting the US president presumed immunity for “official acts” while performing the duties of the presidency. At the court’s behest, Smith responded to the question of whether Trump’s behavior on and leading up to January 6th constituted official acts or acts as a candidate for office. Smith’s filing gives us a unique window into Trump’s mindset and behavior by recounting examples from the testimony of subpoenaed witnesses before a grand jury.
Whether or not Trump ever faces trial as a defendant for his criminal conspiracy to overturn the 2020 election depends upon the result of the election on November 5th. But Christians who hold that “righteousness exalts a nation” (Proverbs 13:34) must make a decision based on the best available evidence. Smith’s document, though somewhat technical, is eminently readable. I recommend reading Section I which gives the outline of the government’s case. It takes up the first 85 pages, but double spaced and with abundant footnotes, it goes pretty fast. It offers compelling evidence that the former president knew that he had lost the election and nonetheless proceeded to push various theories of how the vote could be declared illegitimate. In Smith’s words:
Following election day and throughout the charged conspiracies, the defendant, his co-conspirators, and their agents spread lies that there had been outcome-determinative fraud in the election, and that he had actually won. These lies included dozens of specific claims that there had been substantial fraud in certain states, such as that large numbers of dead, nonresident, non-citizen, or otherwise ineligible voters had cast ballots, or that voting machines had changed votes for the defendant to votes for Biden. And the defendant and co-conspirators continue to make these unsupported, objectively unreasonable, and ever changing claims even after they had been publicly disproven, or after advisors had directly informed the defendant that they were untrue. (page 10)
The document goes on to cite multiple specific conversations and activities witnessed by Trump officials that confirm this judgment. It offers clear and compelling evidence that Trump began a program of disinformation months before the election. (To cite one example, at the Republican National Convention, he brazenly contended, “The only way they can take this election away from us is if this is a rigged election.”) Smith’s filing demonstrates that Trump was intimately involved in each step of the conspiracy: the spurious arguments in the courts alleging fraud, the fake elector scheme, the pressure on Pence to refuse to allow the electoral votes to be certified, right down to the physical assault on the capitol. Many of the details are chilling. In response to an aid, informing Trump that his tweets regarding Pence were endangering the vice president’s life, Trump allegedly replied, “So what?”
In our highly polarized political environment, I realize that your gut level response to that revelation may be the all too common, “Fake news!” But allow me to reiterate: the document lays out the merits of the government’s case against Trump on the basis of sworn testimony. The charges that are brought rely on witnesses with first-hand knowledge of the events, not hearsay evidence. Upon their testimony it becomes abundantly clear that Trump knowingly participated in a scheme to defraud the citizens of the United States of their votes.
Admittedly, the case has not been tried in a court of law. If it reaches trial, it is likely that Trump’s defense will be that he was merely going along with the advice of his lawyers and that he truly believed the narrative about massive election fraud. We may never see the day in court, but I urge you to read the document and judge the weight of the testimony for yourself. Because of the High Court’s ruling regarding immunity, we have the rare privilege of getting a bird’s eye view of the prosecution’s case before it goes to trial. I contend that responsible voters who care about Christian principles have a responsibility before God to read the credible source material.
A few weeks ago I came across this verse in my daily reading: “If a ruler listens to falsehood, all his officials will be wicked.” (Proverbs 29:12) The passage declares the inevitable moral deterioration that occurs within a government when those in authority willfully embrace a lie. Not only the ruler is affected, but all his officials along with him. The proverb is, of course, a hyperbolic statement. Not every single official will necessarily succumb. But there exists an inexorable tendency for corruption to spread. Every bold lie adds to the superstructure. Every claim of being treated unfairly supports the prevailing victim narrative.
The MAGA movement under Trump has effectively overwhelmed the old guard Republican Party. As evidenced in J. D. Vance’s unwillingness to admit in the debate last Tuesday that Joseph Biden is the rightfully elected president of the United States, the lie of a stolen election has become party orthodoxy. Those who, immediately following January 6th, declared that Trump’s incitement of an insurrection was a bridge too far are now either absent from the party or have succumbed to the party narrative. “All his officials [have] become wicked.”
I submit that the most responsible choice for Christian Republicans in the upcoming election is to join Elizabeth Cheney and countless other Republicans and vote for the Harris/Walz ticket. Not because we are convinced that the Democratic Party has the best ideas, but because we recognize that Donald Trump is a “splintered reed of a staff, which pierces the hand of anyone who leans on it!” (2 Kings 18:21)
I still have hope for the Republican Party, but not so long as Trump is the party leader. I have proudly witnessed the bravery of various former Trump administrative officials and Republican leaders who are standing up for principle over party. It seems to me, they represent the most sane and capacious minds in my party—those least driven by an insider mentality. They are also the most hopeful. Sadly however, many of those who stand on principle have been driven from office by an electorate that is drunk on Trump wizardry. The only real hope for the Republican party is an exorcism of Trump’s lies. And that will only happen if he and those who amplify his deceit are soundly defeated at the polling places.
Liz Cheney spoke to her fellow Republicans at the Kamala Harris rally in Ripon, Wisconsin:
So help us right the ship of our democracy, so that history will say of us, “When our time of testing came, we did our duty and we prevailed because we loved our country more.”
Let us join her in that unprecedented but necessary path. I am convinced that my Christian duty demands it.
I had no intention of writing another blog just one week after my last post, but a lot has happened in one week. It feels like the week that won’t end.
I don’t know what the incursion on the Capitol felt like to you as you watched it going down. To me, it was so surreal that it was hard to process emotionally. It felt almost like an absurd carnival – like a group of clowns who were acting crazy but would do no real harm. The reality of what took place didn’t really hit me until, on the following day, I began to listen to some of the in-person testimonies from members of congress and their staffers who had lived through it. Hearing the audio recordings of the mob beating at their barricaded doors, or of the representatives being commanded to take cover behind the seats in their chamber, or of the thugs chanting, “Hang Mike Pence! Hang Mike Pence!” – it chilled me to the bone. Only then did I put myself into the shoes of those who were in the Capitol and sense the true terror that the protestors had wrought.
At about the same time, I began to read the spin that Republicans and the conservative media were putting on the story. A figurative wave of what-about-ism was being unleashed. “The breach on the Capitol was wrong, but the frustration was warranted,” I heard commentators contending. “What about the supposedly peaceful Black Lives Matter protests this summer? Now THEY wreaked havoc!”
One of the early protestations that proliferated was the conspiracy theory that the real damage in the Capitol was not done by the right wing protestors at all, but by Antifa sympathizers who dressed up in disguise. It was astounding how quickly the nonsense took hold. Within hours Sarah Palin was threatening, “To any insincere, fake DC ‘patriots’ used as PLANTS — you will be found out.” Rudy Giuliani implied the same. In a tweet condemning the violence he went on to state, “Antifa involvement is no excuse.” He didn’t need to state directly that Antifa was responsible – just putting the bait out there would suffice. Most of the crowd, he asserted, were good people. After all, in the hour that the gates were being stormed, President Trump could only bring himself to gently cajole the marauding mob: “This was a fraudulent election, but we can’t play into the hands of these people. We have to have peace. So go home, we love you, you’re very special.”
Let me be clear. Not all of the protestors who attended the “Save America” rally were violent – not even close. The vast majority were peace-loving citizens who simply believed the assertion that the election was stolen and came to show their support for the President. I can understand that many of them might take offense at being lumped in with insurrectionists. And it is not my intent to do so.
But I also believe that the response of many enablers – those who through their support of the President’s disinformation campaign helped to ignite the spark of violence – has not been righteous. Many of them are Christians and believe with all their hearts that “righteousness exalts a nation,” yet their reaction to the grave sin of insurrection, incited by our own President, has been an insipid call for national unity. That’s how their colleagues across the aisle describe it.
Please understand. I pray with all my heart for unity in our nation. The partisan divide is a blight that prevents our leaders from truly governing and constantly squeezes them into playing a zero sum game in which their win necessitates their opponent’s loss. The legislators themselves hate it. Many of them hearken back to a time when genuine friendships with members of the opposite party were not only possible, but the norm. This tragedy can indeed be a catalyst for genuine bipartisanship to take root.
One Representative who had been escorted off to the undisclosed secure location was asked the next day what his most vivid memory from the night before had been. He said that it was the sight of McConnell and Pelosi, huddled together toward the middle of the room, discussing the plans about how to move forward with the electoral vote confirmation once the ordeal was over. That was an image he would not forget. And that is an image we should not forget. We are soldiers in a common battle, not enemies on opposite sides.
So a call for unity is warranted. But that call will remain feckless and insipid if there is no admission of guilt. Speaking as a Republican, I appeal to my fellow citizens: We must admit the harm that our party has wrought. Senator Chris Coons of Delaware expressed in an interview yesterday that reconciliation is absolutely necessary, but “there can be no reconciliation without repentance.” We fellow Christ followers must utter a solemn “Amen!”
In a time of national crisis, we must behave as citizens, not as partisans. When the House and the Senate reconvened on Wednesday night, one can understand from a partisan point of view that many Republican leaders felt they must persist in their efforts to challenge the election. But from a citizen’s point of view, it was breach of honor. It was an unnecessary, bull-headed, theatrical performance that served no purpose other than to show servile allegiance to the delusions of a distressed President. It is no wonder that Senator Coons calls for repentance before reconciliation. It is the Christian mandate… and it is the only pathway that can lead to unity.
Not only do the members of the Republican caucus need to repent. Many Christ followers have done grave harm to our nation by propagating a lie. We may not have recognized it as a lie, but we could have and should have. We allowed the idol of nationalism to cloud our vision. History will demonstrate that it was a powerful lie, indeed: one sparked by the President of the United States, fanned into flame by multiple media organizations, perpetuated in our social media accounts, and sadly in some cases, preached from our pulpits. Our calls for unity within our nation will ring as hollow as empty soda cans if they are not accompanied by genuine, sorrowful repentance for the harm we have done. We must repent for helping to propagate a lie.
Some of us may have hoped that the protestations of our president against the election results were justified, but credible witnesses debunked the idea over and over again. Instead of paying careful attention to the evidence, we were swayed by the noise. We chose to believe President Trump over Brad Raffensperger, Rudy Giuliani over Christopher Krebs, Sydney Powell over John Poulos. There can be no healing until there is the admission: “We allowed ourselves to be deceived.”
Some were convinced by prophets who prophesied that Trump would ascend to his next term; those prophets will be shown to be false. Hopefully, by God’s grace, the prophets themselves will sorrowfully bend the knee.
Some preachers have laughed and scoffed at the idea that Biden will assume the presidency on January 20th; their laughter will be a badge of shame they wear in penance.
Do I sound like an unhinged street preacher, railing against the sins of the world? Please forgive me if that is the case. But this is deadly earnest for me… and for all of us who are followers of the Way. We are in grave danger of losing any shred of credibility before a watching world.
The Evangelical church’s loss of moral authority among the under-thirty population is well documented. David Kinnaman and others pointed to the decline over a decade ago. In the meantime, the under-thirty population has become the under-forty population. Conservative, bible believing Christians never were a moral majority, but they are considerably less so now than in the seventies when the phrase was coined. There are many reasons for that, but our embrace of a populist agenda that seeks to guard the old cultural hierarchy is one contributor. Our lack of intellectual vigor is another.
Robert K. Vischer recently wrote: “When we post a meme about Dr. Anthony Fauci or Bill Gates plotting to distribute the mark of the beast through a vaccine, our following post about eyewitness testimony regarding the life of Jesus will get the same response as the first: This person is not trustworthy on questions that matter.” https://religionnews.com/2020/12/01/eric-metaxas-and-the-losing-of-the-evangelical-mind/ Another commentator observed that if someone proclaims faith in both the Easter bunny and the resurrection of Jesus Christ, it won’t be surprising when their associates question the veracity of their truth claims. Yet that is precisely the result when Christians proclaim without evidence that Trump won the election in a landslide and that the angel armies will rally to his defense.
Can anything be done to regain our footing… to demonstrate moral authority before a skeptical audience? Yes! But it is not a task that can be accomplished quickly. It requires slow and steady Jesus-like behavior. It requires becoming agents of reconciliation, as the Apostle Paul enjoined. “All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.” (2 Corinthians 5:18) But there can be no reconciliation without forgiveness. And forgiveness requires repentance. Reconciliation costs a great deal. “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”(v. 21) To purchase our reconciliation, it cost Jesus everything.
There are many images of last week’s fateful day and night in the Capitol. Most of them are disturbing, but a few are beacons of hope. A picture that has gone viral shows New Jersey Representative Andy Kim, cleaning up debris left by the on the floor of the Rotunda. When asked about his motivation for seeking out a garbage bag and going to his knees, Kim responded, “When you see something you love that’s broken you want to fix it. I love the Capitol … It really broke my heart and I just felt compelled to do something.”
That’s it, right? “When you see something you love that’s broken you want to fix it.” That’s at the heart of being a minister of reconciliation. That’s why the watching, skeptical world responded so warmly to Kim’s servanthood. At the very core, his actions were Jesus-like.
Reflecting on the intruders who had broken into the Capitol hours earlier, Kim said, “If someone feels the ability to desecrate our Capitol, to bring a Confederate flag into that building and proudly wave it around, this is someone, these are people, that do not respect government. They do not have that same humility that we need to have. These are people that are not inspired by this building, and do not understand what went into building it, what went into preserving it.”
Again, Kim nails it. He didn’t thrash the intruders. He observed a key element: “They do not have that same humility that we need to have.” If there is a pathway that will help the Evangelical church to reestablish the respect it has lost in the eyes of so many, this is it – the pathway of servanthood. Jesus taught his disciples the same. If we want to really make a difference in the world, we must take up the towel and basin… and bend the knee.
Postscript: I have come across some helpful resources that I highly recommend, in case you’d like to explore the topic further.
For information regarding the integrity of the election and the disinformation campaign:
Concerning the various suits brought by the Trump campaign against election authorities, this website gives a complete listing of the documentation in each of them. You can read the charges that were brought, the affidavits from witnesses, the response of the court, and more. https://www.democracydocket.com/case_type/active-cases/
Just the other day I received another e-mail from an evangelical organization that is dedicated to mobilizing prayers for our nation and its leaders. They were urging me to pray that the presidential election results would be overturned so that President Trump might be able to continue in his rightful role as Commander in Chief. In their opinion, it is God’s will that millions of voters be disenfranchised because voter fraud has taken place on a vast scale, orchestrated by concerted cheating on the part of Trump’s democratic rivals.
It is inconceivable to me that such a request could possibly be construed as being in alignment with God’s purposes, especially because these same brothers and sisters firmly believe that the American democracy is an example of governance that God has lifted up as a unique beacon of hope to the world. But compelled by an insistent president, they are now convinced that the democratic principle of peaceful transition between administrations has no place.
How did we get here? It is beyond dispute that the allegations of voter fraud have been roundly and soundly refuted in sixty different court cases throughout the country. Nevertheless, the conviction persists among a vast swath of Republican voters that the election was stolen. In the court of law, evidence matters. In the court of public opinion, apparently not so much.
The pathway to this perilous place in the history of our republic did not come by chance – it came through the remarkable power of a bold lie. Researchers of human behavior tell us that, in spite of the fact that we do it so often, most people have a natural aversion to lying. That’s why almost everyone has a tell – a subtle giveaway – when they lie. And because of that, it’s difficult for us to believe that someone could consistently and persistently tell a bold lie that they knew to be false. “There must be at least an element of truth to the story,” we tell ourselves. For this reason, the bigger and bolder the lie, the more likely someone is to convince others that there is something to it. They cannot imagine themselves pressing and repeating a falsehood that they know has no shred of truth, so they cannot imagine someone else doing it, either.
The bold lie principle sheds light on Trump’s strategy to overturn the election. His accusations of voter fraud began years ago. If you recall, he insisted that a commission be convened (the Presidential Advisory Commission on Election Integrity) to identify the voter fraud in the 2016 election that supposedly cost him the popular vote. The commission was eventually shut down by Trump after 8 months without finding any evidence of falsified votes (but of course, that’s not the way he framed it when he announced the suspension). In the latest election, the run-up to his bold accusations began in the spring, as state officials throughout the nation were discussing how elections could still be held while guarding the health of their citizens. Trump began trumpeting (excuse the pun) the dangers of mail-in ballots early and often. Even though any real research into voter fraud by competent agents, such as secretaries of state, revealed no pattern of persistent voter fraud (or for that matter, any instances whatsoever), the topic was constantly in the news. The fears grew. What about ballots from dead people? What about collecting ballots from seniors and then changing them? What about people receiving multiple ballots? Trump was softening the ground.
As the election itself drew near, news outlets did their best to alert us to the new reality. With the marked increase in mail-in ballots, we should not expect to have results on election night as we were used to. In fact, we could expect to see trend-lines change as the mail-in ballots, which in many states were not allowed to be counted before election night, began to be processed. But as those ballot tallies began to come in and the early polling trends in favor of Trump began to turn toward Biden, Trump seized the opportunity that he had long been preparing for. “Massive Voter Fraud!” read the Tweets. There was no way that Biden could pick up that many votes in Georgia, or Arizona, or Wisconsin, or Pennsylvania, Trump contended.
And when the election officials in county after county and state after state announced that the elections were conducted in an orderly and fair manner, Trump gave no quarter to the enemy – he remained on the offensive. He attacked the messenger, even if the messenger was a Trump supporter and a member of his own party. So Secretary of State Raffensperger “has no clue” and Governor Kemp is “an obstructionist who refuses to admit that we won Georgia.” He claimed to have massive evidence of fraud, but as court after court found the evidence to be either absent or foolish or blatantly falsified, he continued to press the lie. True to form, hours after being outed for trying to subvert the Georgia election in a phone call with Raffensperger, Trump proclaimed to his Georgia rally crowd, “There’s no way we lost Georgia… I’ve had two elections. I’ve won both of them. It’s amazing.”
The most important book I’ve ever read about lying is M. Scott Peck’s, People of the Lie. Peck, a psychiatrist who had been taught that the concept of evil was not appropriate for a clinical setting, wrestled with the fact that, for some people, “evil” was the best description that seemed to fit. He determined that there are some individuals for whom lying is not merely a behavior, but is a description of their basic nature. They are “people of the lie.” Peck spends several chapters delineating the characteristics of a person of the lie. I was especially struck by two of them. First, a person of the lie absolutely and resolutely refuses to accept personal responsibility for their actions. They will not, under any circumstances, admit failure. They abhor blame.
Second, people of the lie always create scapegoats. Unable to accept personal blame, they persistently find others to whom blame may be affixed. Sometimes the scapegoats are individuals; sometimes they are a whole class of people. The important thing is to make them a clearly identifiable villain. People of the lie specialize in affixing labels to people – it makes them easier targets for blame.
For anyone who has even remotely followed Trump’s career, the parallels are startling. His abhorrence of admitting failure or accepting blame is well documented. His refusal to accept defeat in an election he clearly lost is only the latest example of a life-long pattern. Trump’s scapegoating behavior is also clearly evident. The record of dismissals from his cabinet and other key positions is a litany of laying blame – often against individuals with a sterling record and documented ethical character. But Trump disparages their good character – he an absolute master of the ad hominem attack. (I find it wryly comical that Trump now has branded those of his party who refuse to support his fight as the “surrender caucus.”) His tendency to characterize whole classes of people as villains is also well known. Some might consider this a cheap shot because it’s been so often repeated out of context, but his description of Mexican immigrants at the beginning of his campaign remains embedded in the nation’s memory: “They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists. And some, I assume, are good people.”
Today we find ourselves in a nation divided over the question of whether election fraud on a massive scale took place or not. Many of my Evangelical brothers and sisters are convinced that it did. Scores of congressional representatives and over a dozen senators apparently believe the same. Or perhaps it is simply politically expedient for them to align themselves with the president. I know that this may alienate me from some who find me too direct or too self-assured, but I believe that our nation is currently being victimized by a president who has lied so boldly and so persistently about election fraud that he is most likely convinced of his own lies. And in so doing, he has convinced a significant minority of the American people of the same. People of every social and economic background believe that where there is smoke, there must be fire. The problem is, the smoke itself is an illusion. Sparked by a master illusionist.
I pray this with all sincerity and without irony, knowing that it is the same prayer for all of us, no matter which side of the argument we find ourselves on: May God have mercy upon our great nation.
A lot of us remember life before the internet. In some ways, it doesn’t seem like that long ago. Tasks that we now take for granted, like getting directions, or booking a plane flight, or finding a recipe, were much more arduous and time-consuming. As the internet rapidly became more and more sophisticated and capable of assisting us in these and other basic tasks, it became more and more indispensable. The thought of pulling out a fold-out map of Seattle in order to find an obscure street in Ballard is now genuinely laughable. That’s because the internet turned me (and everyone else) into a cartographic expert. With precision and gentle persuasion (pleasant British female voice: “at the next intersection, make a U-turn”), the GPS on my phone will guide me to my precise destination.
When the internet began to proliferate to every household, it promised to do something revolutionary: it would level the playing field. No longer was access to information the purview of PhDs and specialists who probed the stores of data stored away on microfiche in university libraries. Given the power of a search engine, the common man, with a meager few keystrokes, could access a plethora of sophisticated data about every topic under the sun. It was amazing and it was empowering – we could become our own experts.
It turned out, however, that although the internet was great at giving us access to the information, it wasn’t so good at determining the accuracy of that information. The search engines gave us access to sources of information that we never would have considered. As a result, the common user was placed in the unenviable position of sorting out the viability of multiple, often conflicting, data sources. To our good (?) fortune, the algorithms in our internet applications like Google and Facebook and YouTube were more than happy to assist in that sorting process, albeit not without their thinly veiled self-serving intent. The algorithms were written with the simple goal of getting us to click one more time – to keep our attention focused on the screen (where more ads could flash in front of our eyes).
A lot has been written about the rabbit-hole effect of those algorithms and how they end up limiting and sculpting our sources of information, leading us to increasingly polarized opinions and partisan spirit. The impact in our societal lives (think the recent divisiveness regarding race and racism) and political lives (think the adversarial relationship between the congressional caucuses) is painfully evident. But I want to consider for a moment the assumption that allows the rabbit-hole effect to work – the assumption that I can be my own expert.
In the “good old days,” experts in the news business were recognized by longevity, consistency and training. The New York Times and Washington Post had an almost universally regarded gravitas because readers could point to a decades-long history of reliable reporting. Stories that enlightened the public had been uncovered and documented by trained reporters who had apprenticed under older stalwarts in the trade. Those stories were only brought to press after receiving the go-ahead from senior editors who had also been schooled by long years of experience. The aim was reporting that was both exhaustive and reliable – thus the NYT motto dating back to 1897: “All the News That’s Fit to Print.”
This pattern was not limited to the New York Times. In news rooms across the nation, there was a decided effort to maintain the standard of expertise in reporting. Whether a paper leaned right or left, the public in each community could point to real people on the editorial boards who were trained, not only in information gathering, but in information sorting. They were trained BS detectors. If a story didn’t pass the smell test, it wasn’t printed. From Portland, Maine to Portland, Oregon, the pattern was repeated in cities and towns across the nation. Trained experts would filter the stories as best they could in order to provide the public with the most reliable information available. Those who disagreed with the reporting or who wanted to present the information from a different angle were respectfully afforded the venue of the letters to the editor.
This might sound like I’m simply trying to glorify the good old days, but that’s not my intent. What I want to emphasize is that the role of an expert in our information-heavy society is more important than ever. But with the democratization of information that the internet has afforded, that function has been at best curtailed, if not altogether eliminated. We, the public, foolishly assume that we have the ability to sort through the stories and discover which of them have the ring of truth. But that confidence is misplaced. We are easily misguided. Our confirmation bias leads us to search for, interpret and recall information that supports the beliefs we already possess, and the Facebook algorithms are all too happy to support that inclination.
What we need are true experts and more trust in their ability to guide us. But since each of us has become his or her own expert, our trust in experts has eroded. Up to this point I’ve labored to make my comments apolitical. But I feel compelled to make a political observation. It’s fascinating to note that the Trump presidency has in many respects been an “anti-expert” movement. Trump ran on the platform of not being an insider, not being a politician, not making his decisions based on institutional knowledge – in short, not being beholden to experts. He appointed many members of his cabinet because they were outsiders who would shake up the system. The argument was, our country would benefit from policies that defied institutional knowledge. And because we have become enamored with the idea that each of us can be our own expert, we were prone to accept the logic.
History will ultimately document the result of the anti-expert mentality in the Trump administration, but in the opinion of many, the results are already painfully evident. The distrust of the expert testimony of people like Dr.Anthony Fauci in regard to the Covid pandemic has led to grave missteps in public health policy. And the president’s criticism of his own appointed expert in election cybersecurity, Christopher Krebs, along with his denunciation of multiple secretaries of state, both Democrat and Republican, has led to a massive erosion of public trust in the bedrock of our democratic system: fair and free elections. According to polling data, an alarming 70% of Republican voters believe that there was substantial fraud in the November election, despite the expert testimony of multiple election officials to the contrary.
In the arenas of public health and election security and military strategy, to mention just a few, President Trump is his own expert. He seems to take delight in asserting that claim. During the 2016 election campaign he famously boasted, “I know more about ISIS than the generals do, believe me.” After a tour of the CDC headquarters this spring, he exclaimed, “People are really surprised I understand this stuff. Every one of these doctors said, ‘How do you know so much about this?’ Maybe I have a natural ability.” His Tweets, where his unfiltered thoughts are most often revealed, are a steady drumbeat of “the experts got it wrong” and “listen to me, instead.” After Krebs, an appointed public servant and our leading expert in election security, declared that the November election was the most secure in our nation’s history, Trump tweeted, “Our 2020 Election, from poorly rated Dominion to a Country FLOODED with unaccounted for Mail-In ballots, was probably our least secure EVER!” Trump personifies the danger that results when the information playing field is leveled and each person becomes their own expert. In that case, the loudest voice rules. Or to put it in biblical terms, this is what happens in an era when “there was no King in the land. Every person did what was right in their own eyes.” (Judges 21:25)
What should we do about it? The internet is not going away. And we certainly cannot count on Mark Zuckerberg or Jack Dorsey to be the arbiters of truth in a disinformation age. I want to plead for 1. a humble willingness to admit the danger of being my own expert, especially because my confirmation bias will inevitably lead me to believe what I already believe; and 2. a heightened level of trust in those who are genuine experts – those who have gone through the rigors of schooling, apprenticeship and experience that prepared them to speak knowledgeably as they seek to influence public policy. To repeat: we citizens must make the humble and deliberate choice to place trust in credible experts.
That is not an easy pathway. Trust is a delicate commodity. Trust makes us vulnerable to disappointment. Even sincerely motivated experts get it wrong. Beyond that, some people deliberately mislead. The question, “Who can I trust for reliable information and guidance?” must always be answered with a critical mindset. We do not choose willy-nilly. Ultimately, who we can trust is determined by the character of the communicator revealed over time. If we can trust the character of the messenger, it’s a fair bet that we can trust the message.
This is a big deal. Aristotle taught us that in the power of rhetoric to influence, three factors are predominant: logos, ethos, and pathos. Logos – the logic and reasoning in the message. Ethos – the character, credibility and trustworthiness of the communicator. Pathos – the emotional persuasiveness of the spokesperson. In our current cultural climate, expert power is being questioned. When logos is undervalued, it leaves room for pathos to hold sway. The person with the emotionally compelling message rules the day.
That is Trump’s specialty. His rhetoric has genuine power to shape public opinion and he devotes considerable energy into tearing down the public’s trust in the experts. What results is a dangerous spiral – as confidence in logos wanes, the power of pathos increases. At his rallies, Trump is famous for making dubious and often downright fraudulent truth claims, but the admiring crowd cheers him on, soaking in his words seemingly without critical reflection. This phenomenon is of course not limited to Republican campaign rallies. The power of pathos to prevail over ethos is not limited to the right. Liberals and radical left sympathizers also know the power of passionate speech that is only loosely bound to the truth.
My plea is that we begin to more intentionally watch for demonstrations of character – or the lack thereof. Then use them as a gauge to determine who you listen to. Be alert for snarky speech and avoid snarky commentators. To be snarky means “to be critical or mocking in an indirect or sarcastic way.” Unfortunately, that’s pretty much the definition of a huge percentage of cable news. Consider taking a hiatus from the more obvious perpetrators, whether left or right.
I’ve been impressed over the past few months with the fact that trustworthy messengers are not that difficult to identify. For example, Secretary of State Raffensperger is clearly a credible witness in regard to the election results in Georgia. In the interviews he has given to the press, his character shines through, despite the president’s efforts to disparage him. To our great fortune, he is just one example among many.
Ultimately, there is good reason to trust our innate capacity to judge good character. That’s because we were created with a moral compass that points toward what is good (whether we choose to follow it or not). Characteristics such as humility, self-deference, compassion, empathy, sacrifice, courage and charity really do matter. And they really do make themselves evident. Our ability to discern their presence in the voices we listen to will be decisive in determining our ability or inability to discern the truth.
I’m doing a sermon series entitled SPIRITual at the Core – How God’s Spirit works in the human spirit. A couple of Sundays ago I said that when God’s Spirit fills us, we “make Jesus look good.” One of our parishioners wrote and asked me about my use of the phrase. It was a very good question and it was the catalyst for an interesting online dialogue.
Since the question is indeed pertinent, I’m including our unedited e-mail exchange for my blog readers. I’d be very interested in your thoughts, as well. Do you think we can “make Jesus look good?”
Good morning, Pastor Steve
I have been reflecting on Sunday’s sermon and wanted to thank you for what appeared like a return to our Pentecostal traditions.
However, you left me totally perplexed when you repeatedly told us to, “Make Jesus look good.” I have given it a great deal of thought and cannot see how sinners saved by grace have the power to make Jesus anything? For me to even consider that I have the ability to make him look good; seems arrogant and insulting towards our Savior.
How can I who depends on him for everything including my next breath, make him look good? I cannot. I can only try to live in such a way that I do not bring shame to his holy name. I can also, to the best of my ability, love him and obey his commandments. This seems a very different thing than trying to make him look good.
Steve, I need your help. When you say, “Make Jesus look good,” what exactly are you expecting me to do?
Blessings on your day…..pe
Hi Pat,
Thanks for the good question.
Language is complex – vernacular changes. The job of a communicator of the gospel is to do so in a manner that is as clear as possible and that touches the heart and brings understanding.
The phrase “making Jesus look good” is an attempt to get at the biblical mandate to glorify God. One might ask the same question you posed about making Jesus look good to the concept of glorifying God. How is it possible that a sinful human being can in any way increase or add to the glory of God? We can’t, of course. But at the same time, we are constantly called upon to behave in such a way that God may be glorified. We “add” to that glory by being obedient and faithful and courageous and thereby causing others to see Jesus working through us.
One of the scriptures I have in mind when I use that phrase is 1 Peter 4:10-11, in which we’re encouraged to faithfully administer the gifts of grace that God has given us in their multicolored forms in order that God may be praised. As the variegated light of Jesus shines through our gifts, God is glorified through Jesus Christ – or in short, Jesus looks good.
I believe that that spirit of that phrase is accurate, but certainly it can be misinterpreted. One of my profs in seminary pointed out to us that any one statement that we speak in a message, taken by itself, is heresy. Every truth needs balance. And certainly the truth that Jesus wants to shine through us in order that his Father might be glorified (look good before the seen and unseen world) is one that can be heresy if pushed too far. That’s why I tried to balance that statement in a broader context.
Perhaps the phrase came out too strongly because I used it as a centerpiece illustration in calling attention to the stained glass. I do think that the congregation understood the tenor of what I was trying to convey. But I never want them to stumble over my phraseology. I’ll definitely be aware of your perspective when, in the future, I continue to try to encourage our body to, in word and deed, bring glory to God through Jesus Christ.
Thanks again, Pat, for opening up the dialog. I appreciate it.
Blessings
Steve
Steve, thanks for your rapid response. Prior to writing you I asked Keith what he thought it was to make Jesus look good. He was having his own difficulties with the concept but later sent me a web link. http://picklinginhispresence.wordpress.com/2010/02/22/mma-jesus-ufc-jesus-ninja-jesus-trying-to-make-jesus-look-good/ It seems that attempts to make Jesus look good is the topic de jour in the theological arena. There is a video embedded in the middle of the page that you might find interesting if not disturbing in light of contemporary language and vernacular changes and the point of making Jesus look good is not made until near the end.
Anyway, making Jesus look good as a concept just doesn’t seem to work for me. I asked you about it because you mentioned it more than once and I thought that it was important to understand what you were intending to communicate. After all my thinking and your response, there is one thing of which I am sure. That being, Jesus continues to make me look good. I know this because I know that I am an absolute zero without him, everything and everyone that is good or I call good, in my life is a gift from him. As one lyricist wrote, “If it were not for the LORD, where would I be?” Yes, that is my question, where would I be? And as Paul said, I thank my God for Christ Jesus and I thank you too Steve.
Have a wonderful week…..pe
Hi Pat,
Thanks for the comments. I read through the article… interesting. Especially so, since both pastors being talked about are local.
That made me think, maybe I ought to google the phrase. Turns out a number of pastors are using the phrase “making Jesus look good” in sermons or in blogs.
I am in complete agreement with you that it is Jesus who makes me look good. In Pascal’s words, I am nothing but a reed – and yet he lets his glory shine through me. Amazing love!
In short, I’ll definitely be careful in using the phrase. But if I do use it, I won’t be implying that Jesus is insufficient in his image and it needs improvement. But I think what so often happens is that we, the church, make Jesus look bad through our sinfulness, our pettiness, our cowardice, our judgmental attitude. If it’s possible for the church through our actions to make Jesus look bad in the eyes of the world, then it’s also possible for us to make him look good in the eyes of the world – to glorify him before men.
Hey, do you mind if I use our dialog in my blog? It might be interesting and helpful for others to think about.
Blessings
Steve
Good morning, Pastor Steve,
Yes, by all means include others in our discussion. I greatly appreciate your thoughtful comments and would not like to be selfish about them:-).
Steve, you have answered my question more than adequately and I am ready to move on. If I may, however, I would like to make one final comment before removing my fingers from the keys. You wrote that we, the church, can make Jesus look bad. I have heard this before and have perhaps even said it myself, but now, I’m not sure that this is possible either. Jesus is, and we can neither add to or diminish him in anyway. However, we are talking appearance and I therefore find that I need to give this more thought. It’s not as easy as it first appears.
Blessings, my friend, you are important to Our Father and to us. See you at his house on the Sabbath…..pe
In January, we’re going to start out the year with a time of fasting and prayer at Calvary, the church in which I pastor. To be truthful, I’m not very good at fasting. Don’t get me wrong. It is something I strongly believe in. But I always need a push to do it. When I fast, my body gets cold (I feel like my feet are freezing!). My spirit gets grumpy. And I think about food a lot. It’s not a pretty picture.
On the other hand, I do sense that something important and good happens when I fast. There are tons of reasons to do it, but here are four that come to mind right off the top:
1. We fast because Jesus assumed that we would.
In the discussion Jesus had with his detractors about why his followers were not fasting, he pointed out the (obvious) truth that the guests at a wedding never fast when the members of the wedding party are present. Jesus compares himself to the bridegroom and makes the point: “They’re not going to fast when I’m around – it’s celebration time right now! But there’s a time coming when I won’t be here… THEN they’ll fast.” (see Matthew 9:14-15)
What I need to remember is that Jesus’ THEN is my NOW. The bridegroom is away. The times are dark. The need is compelling. Fasting is my most appropriate response.
2. We fast because God’s people have always fasted at critical junctures in history.
When the entire Jewish population was being threatened by the Jew-hater, Haman, Esther was compelled by her uncle to go to the King and plead for the lives of her people. The whole future of the Jewish people hung in the balance. Esther’s response to her uncle: “”Go and get all the Jews living in Susa together. Fast for me. Don’t eat or drink for three days, either day or night. I and my maids will fast with you. If you will do this, I’ll go to the king, even though it’s forbidden. If I die, I die.” (see Esther 4:16)
In the end, her people were spared. But the spiritual ground for the saving act of God was prepared through fasting. When I observe the spiritual climate of the city of Seattle, I’d say that our need for a saving act of God is pretty dramatic.
3. We fast because the spiritual battle we are facing can only be won with spiritual weapons.
I’m not a huge “spiritual warfare” guy. I tend to have a pretty gut-level reaction to people who look for demons behind every bush (where did that metaphor come from, anyway?). But the longer I observe the human condition, the more convinced I am of how literal the scripture is when Paul expressed: “The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” (2 Corinthians 4:4, emphasis mine)
Our calling as a church is to help people find & follow Jesus Christ. But they’ll never find or follow him if they can’t see him. And they won’t see him unless God himself breaks through the darkness that blinds them. I can share (or argue) till I’m blue in the face, but the message won’t get through until God’s light shines in. I think fasting “clears the heavens” in a metaphorical and literal way.
4. We fast because it trains our appetites for God.
I don’t know about you, but I sometimes get amazed at how focused my appetites are toward things that aren’t very important at all. One of the parishioners brought in a big can of Almond Rocca (“Brown and Haley make them daily!”). Every since I was a kid, those magical confections wrapped in golden foil (and native to the Northwest, I proudly add) have been my Christmas delight. The problem is, as long as they’re sitting there in the staff kitchen, I can’t keep away from them. I’ll go in, sneak out a handful of 5-6 little treats and stow them in my desk drawer. But within the hour, they’re gone and I’m going back for more!
My appetites are too easily steered in directions that are unprofitable at best and harmful at worst. But when I fast, my focus is turned. I begin to echo with the Psalmist:
As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
I think we all need a little appetite training, don’t you?
So I’m hoping you’ll join me this January for a time of prayer and fasting. In our church we’ll fast for three days. Some churches would look at that and call us wimps… perhaps we are. But we’re making a stab at making a difference in the real world. And that’s a good thing.
A couple of weeks ago I started a sermon series on the book of Proverbs. It’s interesting – the older I get, the more I appreciate the proverbs. I remember my dad reading through them with our family when I was a kid and thinking they were pretty redundant. But maybe I handle repetition better, now. Or maybe I realize more how much the truth has to be hammered into my head… blow after blow after blow.
For Mothers’s Day, I preached on Proverbs 31 – it seemed appropriate. The more I thought about the passage, the more I realized that even though it speaks of an ideal, it has direct application to any wife who is truly seeking after God. I decided to write a paraphrase for Karen, my Proverbs 31 woman. (Truthfully, I think it’s something every Christian husband ought to try… our wives deserve more praise than they usually get!)
So here’s my tribute to Karen. I know my last blog was a tribute to Karen, as well. But perhaps there are some things that bear repeating as often as possible.
PROVERBS 31 – A PARAPHRASE FOR KAREN
If I searched the world over, I could never find the likes of you, Babe
I wouldn’t trade you for a 50 carat diamond.
It’s amazing: you accomplish anything you put your mind to,
So actually I could retire early, and wouldn’t have to worry.
You’ve got my back, you’ve got my blind side
And you’ll keep watching out for me for the rest of my life.
You’re amazing with your hands,
Sewing on my buttons, fixing my ripped pants.
You’re like a shopping genie,
Finding wonderful delights to prepare for your family that intrigue both eye and palate.
And you don’t lay around in the morning – you’re always up and at ‘em,
Getting breakfast for the kids and starting us on our day.
You started your own business, built it up, made it profitable
Then sold it for good money – way to go.
You approach life with gusto;
You never shy away from hard work.
You make sure that the projects you undertake are a success,
Even when it means working long into the night.
You love to use your Viking sewing machine,
And you master all those different stitches – how cool is that?
You have an open-door policy when it comes to guests – especially the students,
And always have the nachos or chocolate chip cookies or baked apples coming hot out of the oven for them.
We as your family never had to worry about having the right clothes
Because you’d find the most amazing stuff for us at Salvation Army – like this sweater I’m wearing right now.
Not only that, you know how to doll yourself up pretty nicely
And when you wear those long dark jeans with your black heeled boots, you’re smokin’ hot.
Another thing: You have this wonderful way of making me look good,
And I can’t tell you how much respect I get from my friends because of you.
Your creativity amazes me – your decoration skills are unsurpassed:
Whatever you put your hand to has beauty in its form.
You carry yourself with such class and with such grace,
That we can put our worries about the future to rest – there will always be a sure path to walk.
Others seek you out for your listening ear and your understanding heart,
And the advice you give is sound – it has God’s fingerprints all over it.
You keep a watchful eye on your family, like a Border Collie watching over the flock;
Your diligence is unwavering.
Your kids are truly proud of you – and they’re not afraid to say it;
And I can’t help but sing your praises:
There are a lot of awesome women out there,
But you go way beyond every single one of them.
Some women rely on face lifts and tummy tucks (there’s a lot of fakery in the world right now)
But a woman who really loves God and submits herself fully to him? You just can’t do any better than that!
So I’m going to broadcast to the world the things you’ve done for others and for me,
When someone is as incredible as you are, the word gets around!
Steve Pecota - a Pastor in Seattle 