Uneasy Citizenship's five most-read entries from 2024
Plus, the virtue of going slow as we start a new year
Greetings from 2025. After Oregon’s abysmal performance in the Rose Bowl against Ohio State, I’m already nostalgic for the happier days of 2024. Sure, going 13-0 and winning a conference championship isn’t so bad, and it’s likely Oregon will finish the season as the only team in the country with just one loss. But it was disappointing for the Ducks to (ahem) lay an egg in an elimination game, especially against a team they’d beaten earlier in the year.
Sports, man. They’ll rip your heart out.
Still, there’s plenty to be excited about heading a new year. To wit:
I was approved for promotion at John Brown University, my title upgrading from “Associate Professor” to “Professor”
The Center for Faith and Flourishing is hosting several speakers on campus in the spring, including a big name in Arkansas government and politics (more on these events soon)
I’ll be traveling with students to the annual Midwest Model United Nations conference in February, and helping supervise a trip to Alabama in March for the 60th anniversary of the Selma Bridge Crossing
Our youngest will turn 10, and he and I will take a trip together to celebrate — something baseball-related, perhaps?
And that’s to say nothing of my my teaching schedule this semester, which includes Religion and Politics (one of my favorite classes to teach), Law, Courts, and Politics, and Comparative Politics.
But before we fully transition into 2025, I wanted to give one last look at 2024’s most-read entries here at Uneasy Citizenship. Here they are, in chronological order:
Is "the different kind of evangelical voter" the new normal? (January 8)
There is no sign that American politics will become any less polarized and culturally divisive in the years ahead. As political identity solidifies and strengthens its grip on our collective consciousness, religious identity is poised to become more malleable. If our political leaders do or demand things inconsistent with our religious commitments while we are becoming less and less grounded in deeply rooted belief systems, we are more likely to change or adjust the latter to conform to the former.
"What the hell is wrong with these people?" (January 18)
For Christians, it can be tempting to “other” Christians with whom we disagree on political and cultural issues, regardless of where we find ourselves on the political spectrum. People like [Josh] Daws will “other” people like [Tim] Alberta as insufficiently committed to a Christian faith this age demands, while people like Alberta will “other” people like Daws for losing sight of what his faith should really be about. As I wrote in my review of Alberta’s book, it is only natural to make ourselves the heroes of our stories.
Are travel sports replacing religion in America? (May 28)
I can’t shake the idea that the rise in travel sports is encroaching, at least in some corners of American society, on religion. Both require significant investment, both involve inordinate time spent with the same group of people, and both have their own sets of odd customs and rituals (sacraments like communion on the one hand, and coordinated outfits and cheers on the other).
To put it another way, I think Derek Thompson is on to something when he says, “Everything’s a cult now.”
How will JBU students vote? (October 28)
While this year’s election is poised to highlight the gender gap—at the national level and in various swing states—JBU appears to be bucking that trend, with a healthy majority of students (both men and women) reporting they’ll be voting for Donald Trump for president.
It’s Trump (November 6)
It is probably too early to speculate about what Trump’s election (or is it reelection?) means for the future of American politics. There is still a lot of data to parse and conclusions to draw. At the very least, though, if Trump’s victory in 2016 was a shock to the system, his win in 2024 was an indication that his style of politics—and perhaps even a reconfiguration of existing coalitions—is here to stay.
Thanks for spending time with me this past year. Here’s to another one. Oh, and if you haven’t bought (and reviewed) my book yet, please do; it would mean a lot.
Finally, I recently (re)read this essay from Tish Harrison Warren in the pages of Christianity Today. Originally published on November 5, 2024, Warren brings up a book by Sy Montgomery of the tedious but important work of rescuing endangered turtles as relevant to tackling the myriad problems facing our country and our churches:
As we face huge problems as a culture and a church, it’s tempting to look to big things for big solutions: national elections, mass movements, revolution, a spectacular revival, some intensely viral online message. I want something obvious and epic to bring a speedy resolution. I am impatient for change.
But Montgomery has reminded me of the virtue and necessity of change wrought by smallness, patience, and time. “Time,” she writes, “is what turtles have.”
Warren continues:
I don’t know how to solve the big problems of the world. I wish I did, but I don’t. And I don’t know how to repair a church in America that has become politically idolatrous and does not exhibit the fruit of the Spirit.
But I know we can go slow and repair things in the ways that we can, in the places where we dwell, in the institutions we inhabit, with the people around us. We can serve the needy and the disadvantaged in our cities and towns. We can seek faithfulness in our small, local congregations. We can help form churches that are humble, accountable, and a radical alternative to the world, to both the political right and the political left. We can think and read deeply, learn from the saints who’ve gone before us, and teach and embody a more robustly biblical, orthodox political theology. In our work, friendships, homes, and neighborhoods, we can take up the challenge of building something solid, slow, and enduring—something that can witness to Jesus and his kingdom, a kingdom not captive to American politics in any way.
Sometimes quick and decisive action is needed, usually in reaction to an immediate crisis or threat. But when it comes to the proactive and painstaking work of building and repair, I think we could all stand to think about moving a little more slowly and deliberately. This sort of work may not garner the immediate rewards of our frenetic moment, but that doesn’t make it any less necessary.
So as we enter into a new year with all its typical hopes, fears, anxieties, and opportunities, let’s commit to going slower every once and a while in pursuit of something lasting.
Happy New Year.