Sneak peak: "Comfort in the Uncomfortable"
A preview of the eighth and final chapter of Uneasy Citizenship
Greetings from the beginning of a hot and humid summer in Northwest Arkansas. For the first time in years I don’t have any major writing deadlines this summer,1 which means I’m spending a decent amount of time at home with my family.
This isn’t to say we’re not staying busy. All three kids are doing swim team, which means spending two hours three days a week at the local pool learning and practicing different strokes. Our youngest was chosen for the 7U baseball All-Star team, which means three evenings of practice per week and a trip to Little Rock for the state tournament at the end of June. And we’re very thankful that the renovation project that started last September is nearing an end, culminating with a screened porch, master bedroom, and laundry room.2
More importantly, after years—years!—of writing, rewriting, and rewriting the rewriting, Uneasy Citizenship is now with my publisher, Cascade Books. I heard from my editor a few weeks ago that the book is moving through the production process, which portends a likely release early in 2024. I can’t wait to share the whole thing with you; I’ll be providing updates and more information as the publication process continues.
Until then, here’s a sneak peak of Chapter 8, which is titled “Comfort in the Uncomfortable.” In this chapter I give my answers to and thoughts on questions I’ve seen or heard Christians—generally, and in my own orbit—ask about politics. I do this because, as I explain early in the chapter, it isn’t always easy for me to be forthcoming and clear about my political views and preferences.3 So while I hope this chapter is helpful for readers, it was definitely helpful for me.
Anyway, here’s a selection from the final chapter in Uneasy Citizenship.
Is there any redemption for the term “evangelical” now that it is often equated with a political ideology or group?
This question admittedly begs another question – namely, whether the term “evangelical” has been unhelpfully coopted by a particular political movement. I’m convinced “evangelical,” as an identifier, has become increasingly associated with Republican Party politics in recent years. And I believe this is largely a negative development, inasmuch as it has confused what being an evangelical Christian really means. When politically conservative Muslims are declaring themselves to be evangelical, I think it’s safe to say evangelical Christians have a marketing problem.
At my university we have had more than a few conversations about whether it’s useful to continue to identify as evangelicals, given the increasing political connotations of the label. I’m sympathetic to my colleagues who want no part of this conversation – not because they’re not politically conservative, but because they don’t want to malign other believers who don’t share their political ideals. Then again, I’m not convinced it is time to abandon “evangelical” to the political world. After all, while the United States has the most evangelical Christians of any country on earth, more than 80 percent of the world’s evangelicals live somewhere other than the United States. What makes American evangelicals think we have sufficient ownership of the term to feel confident in abandoning it?
What, then, are American evangelicals to do? How can we redeem our label and discourage its political abuse? First, we can do politics better, focusing less on partisan victories and more on a holistic pursuit of justice that confounds our political reality. And second, we can critique and defy leaders across the political aisle trying to use the evangelical community as a means to an end. Despite a changing religious landscape, evangelical Christians remain an influential political group. We have a distinct and hopeful voice. We should use it to upset the political status quo rather than affirm its worst impulses.
Is there any hope for our political system and processes to ever be effective again?
Human beings are prone to recency bias, where we view our current moment as unique in the context of history. And to an extent, this is correct – our moment is unique, in that the things happening today have never happened before. But this is true for any moment in history; things are always changing from year to year, from decade to decade, from generation to generation. We can acknowledge the unique challenges of our political moment without thinking our moment is uniquely challenging or difficult.
Consider the first years of the American republic. The Constitution had been ratified and our institutions were in place, but the norms and precedents we count on today to guide and reign in these institutions were in flux. Our leaders were bound by laws, yes, but they were also tasked with developing the norms and behaviors we take for granted today. Or consider the buildup to and aftermath of the Civil War. Hundreds of thousands of Americans had died, and the regional tensions we still see today were inflamed and raw. Research shows that today’s political climate is approaching this level of hostility, and yet there is no indication we are on the brink of a civil war.
The Great Depression. The Civil Rights Movement. The countercultural movement in the 1960s. I could go on. Americans face our fair share of challenges today, but we are not the first generation to be reckoning with significant disruptions to the status quo. And through it all, our system of government and political process has survived. It hasn’t always been easy, nor has it always emerged unchanged or unscathed. But the basic constitutional structures implemented nearly 250 years ago remain intact.
This doesn’t mean there aren’t dangers on the horizon. Democratic reforms have given people more ownership over our political systems, but they have also made these systems more dependent on the whims of an increasingly polarized public. This, paired with a legislative redistricting process that insulates most of our representatives from real electoral competition, reduces incentives for elected officials to bridge differences with their political opponents. Instead of rewarding policy innovation and creativity, our political system is increasingly rewarding inaction and extremism.
At the same time, though, our political system and processes are still generally working as designed. Major bills are passed on a (mostly) bipartisan basis. Government shutdowns are rare. And while normal inefficiencies can be frustrating, our system was not designed to be efficient. It was designed to temper the passions of disparate factions, and to require compromise and cooperation necessary for government of, by, and for the people – the whole people. The American political experiment has never been an exercise in easy governance, but govern it has.
This doesn’t mean I’m not doing anything. A friend and I will be submitting an article on the role that group attitudes play in conditioning support for religious liberty, and I will be developing an essay for the Center for Christianity and Public Life’s “For the Good of the Public” conference in November.
Thanks and gratitude are owed to Rick Faust and JBU’s Construction Management program for their work throughout the year — and for Rick for spending a good portion of his summer with us. We’ve joked multiple times that he’s become a member of the family, given how many times he’s showed up at 7am to begin his work for the day.
I think this is because I sometimes find it difficult to take off my objective and analytical professor’s hat when I leave the classroom. This has led to some funny interactions with friends and at home, as I detail in the chapter.