Jack Fowler has written a response to my recent “open letter” to Trump’s Evangelical defenders. It’s a puzzling piece, one that seems to be equally tainted by misunderstanding of my writing about Trump and – curiously enough – larger misunderstandings about Protestant Christianity.
Most disappointing, however, Jack retreats to the place where most of Trump’s most loyal Christian defenders retreat, to lamentations about Pharisees rather than actual defenses of Trump’s conduct. In other words, the real problem isn’t that Trump lies repeatedly, likely sexually assaulted multiple women, had an affair with a porn star after the birth of his child and then paid hush money to cover the affair. The problem isn’t that Christian leaders respond with silence, minimize the magnitude of these offenses, or sometimes even compare Trump to men like King David. The true problem worth lamenting is that people like me give Trump the “scarlet letter.”
I’ll respond to Jack’s “three little points,” beginning with the first – that I allegedly reflect “how some quarters of conservatism have been deeply infected by the be-all, end-all of presidential primacy” and that “We (believers) seem to want more moral guidance, pronouncements, behavior — salvation! — from an American president than we do of the true shepherds of our souls, whether it be the parish priest, the rabbi, the bishop, the minister.”
This is a profound misreading of what I’ve written — not just last week, but for the last two years. Indeed, in my open letter I began by noting that public policy isn’t so important that it outweighs a Christian’s obligation to speak the truth about a politician’s conduct. Indeed, the witness of the church is far, far more important than any president.
We don’t look to presidents for salvation (and it’s absurd to imply that I’ve ever done that), we look to the Gospel. The earthly ambassadors of that Gospel are God’s people, and many of God’s people have placed far greater emphasis on politics than they have on their own moral witness. The heart of the Christian case for Trump magnified his importance. Remember the Flight 93 election? Remember the argument that voting for Trump was a desperate act of self-defense?
This lack of proportion is amplified by monumental hypocrisy. Christian leaders rightfully, loudly, and forcefully denounced Bill Clinton’s multiple character failings — both personal and professional — even at a time of considerable peace and prosperity. And now? Not only are all too many Christian leaders completely silent in the face of multiple examples of terrible misconduct, they are eager to be seen as his public allies. The thumbs-up photo with the president is the validator of the Christian leader’s power and influence.
And if you doubt the double standards, as an example consider these contrasting words — from none other than Franklin Graham, one of Evangelical America’s most consequential leaders. Here’s Graham writing in the Wall Street Journal in August, 1998:
Mr. Clinton’s months-long extramarital sexual behavior in the Oval Office now concerns him and the rest of the world, not just his immediate family. If he will lie to or mislead his wife and daughter, those with whom he is most intimate, what will prevent him from doing the same to the American public?
More:
The private acts of any person are never done in secret. God sees and judges all sin, and while He seeks to restore the offender with love and grace, He does not necessarily remove all the consequences of our sin. As a boy I remember my mother telling me of the consequences of sin. Like a boat, whose wake can capsize other boats, sin leaves a wake. Just look at how many have already been pulled under by the wake of the president’s sin: Mr. Clinton’s wife and daughter, Ms. Lewinsky, her parents, White House staff members, friends and supporters, public officials and an unwitting American public.
And here’s Franklin Graham in an AP interview in May, 2018:
I don’t have concern, in a sense, because these things happened many years ago — and there’s such bigger problems in front of us as a nation that we need to be dealing with than other things in his life a long time ago. I think some of these things — that’s for him and his wife to deal with. I think when the country went after President Clinton, the Republicans, that was a great mistake that should never have happened. And I think this thing with Stormy Daniels and so forth is nobody’s business. And we’ve got other business at hand that we need to deal with.
Old News. Nobody’s business. A family matter. It’s all straight out of the Clinton playbook.
Citizens who spent years watching men like Franklin Graham vigorously denounce cultural decay and vigorously scandal-hunt successive Democratic administrations are rightly puzzled by the about-face. I suppose some serial sexual assault allegations are more outrageous than other – like when a Democrat or Hollywood mogul is in the crosshairs.
Jack’s second point emphasizes that saints are always also sinners. Dismas, “the good thief” — the man who acknowledged Christ’s divinity at his moment of ultimate pain and (earthly) weakness — certainly did bad things, yet he still received salvation.
Of course he did. He professed faith in Christ. That’s how this works — in both Catholic and Protestant circles. King David did terrible things. So did Peter. Every human being who has ever lived is fallen and sinful. (I’m not sure where Jack gets the idea that the Catholic church somehow uniquely gets this or is somehow uniquely inviting to sinners.) But you’re going to have to look long and hard in scripture to find any example where the fact that we’re all sinners means that we are permitted to excuse sin or rationalize sin or minimize sin.
If I was pounding away at Trump’s misconduct even after he’d repented, then that would be my problem. But I’m not. If I was attacking people because they had the audacity to be kind to a sinful man, that would be my problem. But I’m not. I’m saying that religious leaders should have the same standards for men and women regardless of their political affiliation. I’m saying they shouldn’t excuse the bad acts of one man that they’d condemn in another. I’m saying they shouldn’t choose selective silence to enhance their political position.
How hard is it to give Trump credit for picking good judges while also noting that his conduct toward women is disgraceful? How difficult is it to appreciate good policies at HHS while also noting that his relentless lying degrades our political culture and damages our body politic?
In his final point, Jack says that “even jerks are capable of doing good things.” No serious person argues otherwise. Bill Clinton signed the Defense of Marriage Act. He signed welfare reform. He signed a sweeping crime bill that helped turn the tide in the fight against violent crime. He was president during a time of relative peace and considerable prosperity. Donald Trump has lowered taxes. He’s appointed good judges to the bench. He’s stepped up the fight against ISIS. He is president during a time of welcome economic growth.
But in both presidencies, the role of the Christian leader is the same. Praise and support the president when he does things right, critique him when he does wrong, and understand that your fundamental role isn’t as a member of one identity group among many but rather as representatives of the body of Christ. Moreover, Christians know that presidents (indeed, all leaders) have cultural influence, and one cannot forsake the culture for the sake of politics any more than one can entirely forsake politics for the sake of culture. Culture is more powerful, but each influences the other.
Jack appears fond of using a phrase like “sanctimonious prig” and reminding us of the Pharisees. This is an old, tired critique of a public Christian witness. People often don’t like moral arguments, especially when they feel as if they’re somehow the targets. But the problem with the Pharisees wasn’t that they made moral arguments. They rejected Christ. They punished the people with absurd legalisms. In other words, their moral arguments were wrong. But they’re hardly the only villains in Christ’s story. He was crucified by libertine and Pharisee alike. I wonder if the money-changers Jesus drove from the Temple would agree with Jack’s assessment that Christ didn’t come off as sanctimonious.
Finally, I’d note that scripture is replete with examples of God’s people calling the people and rulers to repent, often using extraordinarily harsh language. We should all be grateful for their faithfulness. What would David’s story be like without Nathan? He risked being a “sanctimonious prig,” and by God’s grace he turned the heart of a king. That’s the better model for engagement. Double standards and partisan favoritism will only bring the church to grief.