Soul Searching: I Am an Evangelical, but Not That Kind

Part 1 of a series of reflections on the Capitol insurrection and Christians’ participation

Here in California, I was glued to my television after hearing radio news reports about what was happening at the Capitol on Wednesday, January 6. Indelibly etched in my memory is the waving of an orange “Jesus” flag and other displays of “Christian” presence. The fact that some of those flags made it up the steps of the Capitol building demonstrates that self-identified Christians were in the thick of things that day, not innocent or passive bystanders in a peaceful demonstration, as some claim. I was sickened, offended, and deeply troubled by the extent to which Christian nationalism has overtaken the mindset of so-called evangelicals. I thought I was an evangelical, but I am not the kind that would violently take over the halls of government.

The purpose of this week’s blogs is to define—and perhaps reclaim—some terms and clarify what they mean in the current American political context. It is only fair to my readers for me to identify myself, so they can appreciate the pain and the frustration I experience now as a citizen of a not-so-great Republic.

I was raised in the Pacific Northwest in a devout Catholic family. Mom was a Kennedy Democrat and Dad a Goldwater Republican, so election seasons were always interesting at the dinner table. When I got married straight out of college, my husband and I took a pragmatic approach to politics by each registering with a different political party “so we would get all the mail.” Nowadays, inundated with political material regardless of our registered parties, I am seriously considering re-registering as an independent. There is no political party that represents my views across the board. My ideal political candidate does not exist. This realization only adds to my general angst as elections come and go. In the 2016 election, I wrote in my vote.

The transformation of my life from self- to Christ-centered began at my spiritual surrender on July 17, 1970. The first witness to the salvation and Lordship of Jesus Christ that I heard came to me through a Catholic charismatic rally in January of that year. The most important question I struggled with for seven months was whether I needed and whether I wanted Jesus to be my Savior and Lord. I was finally convicted in this fundamental issue of allegiance: God deserved and required the central and sovereign place in my life.

My early Christian disciplines were nurtured first in Catholic lectio divina Bible study, and then at Stanford University through the ministries of Campus Crusade for Christ (now named CRU) and InterVarsity Christian Fellowship. My faith was watered and fed by what was called “the Jesus Movement” through the 1970s. Characteristics of this movement were the personal encounter with and surrender to Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord, immersive Bible study, an explosion of new Christian music, and enthusiasm for sharing one’s faith with others. To me this gives some shape to the term “evangelical.” I know books have been written on the topic as evangelicals grapple with their identity, but this is my starting point.

Meanwhile, starting in 1978, my interest in delving deeply into my faith led me to start attending Fuller Theological Seminary, and ultimately seeking ordination in the Presbyterian Church. That’s another long story I won’t go into here, but I consider my denominational destination to be providential. Presbyterian governance and American governance have many similarities. The theological heritage of John Calvin informs Presbyterian/Reformed views on representative bodies, a distribution of power, and a belief that Christian faith shapes the way Christians participate in the body politic. While 16th century John Calvin himself attempted to create a theocratic government in Geneva, Switzerland, Presbyterians today focus on responsible citizenship, understanding that American government is our organizational design based on laws and principles—a nation built on an idea (the equality of all persons), not on dogma; a republic, not a strict democracy and certainly not a monarchy. That is, the people elect their representatives to make decisions on their behalf for the good of all, or for as many people as possible. Ingrained in my sensibilities are the three options open to those represented, once a decision is made: to actively concur, passively submit, or peaceably withdraw. Violent insurrection is not an option.

In this context, how is an American Christian supposed to relate to established power structures within this society? In my next post, I will “bring the Word to life” by examining some periods of biblical history (both Old Testament and New) that grapple with the relationship between government and God’s people, and the kind of power God’s people may exert to effect well-being and peace.