Forces of Evil in a Bozo Nightmare

Editor’s Note: Contexts. No two are completely alike. We all have them. What we do with and within our contexts is what we will have done with our lives. I try to describe the pressure points and the possibilities of my contexts with words and images and gestured all day long. I describe the Prayer Trade, for instance, here. This brings me to the gift that is Matt Conner. We share many contexts, and I’m a long time admirer of what he gets up to with his particular situatedness. He minds his situational particulars. If you look into his amazing podcast, The Resistance, you’ll perhaps spy some familiar faces.

Editor’s Note continued: I beheld once instance of Matt’s courage in the Book of Faces recently and secured his permission to share it. Every riskily righteous move matters. And in his contexts, Matt really does risk something by speaking this way. He overcomes the resistance that is his subject. I don’t have to strain to imagine who he might hear from for doing this, because my inbox contains mounting evidence of what can occur when people like Matt and me go for it. But again, these moves matter, they cascade, they catch fire, and, in time (or at least for awhile), fear is overcome and the shame is on the other side. Courage is contagious and deeply attractive. Real quick, the title of this post comes from Beck who, as ever, names the things. Thank you, Matt, for your witness. I invite you all to consider applying it to your contexts.

I'll say it because they can't/won't (and I understand the pressure to a large degree):

I know *scores* of folks—very good people with very good hearts leaning into very good work—who work in Christian circles. Think those who work public-facing or behind-the-scene positions in churches, education, the non-profit sector, entertainment, etc.

So many of these folks, at least in a public-facing sense, have a platform—many of them very significant. They're the pastors you listen or look up to. They're the authors whose books line your shelves. They're the musicians on your playlist. They run the non-profits you support.

The vast majority of these folks loathe Trump. They loathe the GOP. They hate every ounce of everything that is going on right now. And yet they feel largely powerless to do anything about it.

In private, they call it evil. In private, they wring their hands. In private, they're angry at those who voted for this due to their ignorance of or willful participation in what is clearly so un-Christian about all of it.

Here's the quandary:

1. They are the ones who could actually turn the tide on some of this, to call out, as someone with a Christian platform, what is so obviously anti-Christ.

2. The moment they say that thing, point out that wrong, stand in the way, is the moment they lose their livelihood. It's not just about the influence or platform slipping away. It's about a sudden inability to pay bills, to support a family. And it's largely understandable.

I've been frustrated (or worse) with some of them because we have private conversations about the unfolding evil all around us in the world and yet nothing is said. But there's a rub here that affects all of us.

Jesus was pretty clear about the (very) corruptive nature of money. It's insidious. The moment something is tied to money, our relationship with it will inevitably change. We place so much importance on "security" despite a gospel that preaches "daily bread". It's a toxic yeast in the dough.

Popular evangelicalism has made it nearly impossible to confront our relationship with money. A shill like Dave Ramsey will have you believe that saving everything for your own family's future is some high calling when Jesus clearly reframed the notion of who is "family" (see Mark 12, Luke 8 ) to those around him.

I'm not trying to villify anyone here. It affects us all. My own media company is based in Tel Aviv and it's been made clear that any public-facing posts in support of Gaza are frowned upon. Suddenly, I'm faced with some very real pressure. To stay quiet ("I mean, what would saying something even do?") in order to maintain job security.

Basically, what I'm trying to describe is the complex scenario at work. Evil is running rampant, often under the guise of Christianity. Yet those labeled as Christian leaders are allowing that which is actually anti-Christ to be called Christian because of its personal cost—as if Jesus didn't say 100 things about all angles of the subject.

I feel it. Others do too. I'm not sure how to untangle it all, but silence and complicity and "looking out for my own" is not the answer. At least I know that much.