I’m trying as hard as I can to understand why so many Christians voted for a man whose opinions, behavior, and policies so fly in the face of Jesus’ teachings. As best I can tell, you fall into two main camps. I know this is an over-simplification, but bear with me.
Camp #1: The Civil Religionists
Self-proclaimed Christians who are actually civil religionists voted for Trump because they conflate political partisanship with the faith—which generally means they’re so committed to their peculiar political and social agenda—one, by the way, that would horrify thoughtful conservatives of bygone days like Russell Kirk or William Buckley, Jr.—that they effortlessly subordinate Christianity to it. The Jerry Falwell, Jrs., Mike Huckabees, and Michelle Bachmanns fall into this camp.
I honestly don’t know how to begin a conversation with them. They strike me as a dangerous and Christian-despising bunch.
Camp #2: The Single-Issuers
My hunch is that most Christians who voted for Trump fall into a second camp. They’re the single-issue Christians who acknowledge (with varying degrees of reluctance) Trump’s problematic moral character, his apparent lack of Christian faith, and the danger of his policies. But they were led to vote for him because of their strong convictions about abortion, same-sex marriage, and/or religious liberty rights.
Their hope, as they often said, especially after the horrendous sex tape came to light, was that God could use even egregiously flawed characters like Trump to do good.
I think I do know how to dialogue with Christians in Camp #2. As a way of initiating conversation with you, I want to assure you that most Christians share your concerns about abortion, the importance of family, and the value of religious liberty. It’s rarely “us” against “you.” We’re not your enemy. We’ve much more in common with you than you have with Trumpism, and that’s one of the reasons we’re baffled by the way you voted.
Abortion. Very few Christians (I actually don’t know of a single one) believe that abortion is in and of itself a good thing, but many do acknowledge that sometimes it’s a tragic necessity. Even the Roman Catholic doctrine of double effect bows to this sad fact of life. Our shared reservations about abortion ideally flow from a profound respect for life from womb to tomb. This suggests that we ought to roll up our sleeves and work together, as we often have, to mitigate threats to the dignity of human life, including poverty, violence, euthanasia, oppression, and injustice. But surely we recognize that sometimes, given the messiness of a world in which moral dilemmas involve very concrete persons rather than pristinely abstract classroom hypotheticals, that a certain amount of triage is necessary. This doesn’t mean that we’re being unfaithful or that we’re any less committed to honoring the God-likeness of all humans, much less that we’re happy about the choices that sometimes have to be made.
Mr. Trump was once “pro-choice” but now insists he’s “pro-life.” Questions about the authenticity of this switch can be raised. But it’s pretty clear that he’s closer to being what Sister Joan Chittister calls “pro-birth” than “pro-life,” given that he displays such arrogant and consistent disrespect for women, minorities, immigrants, physically challenged, small business people, employees, journalists, and virtually everyone who disagrees with him on even the slightest issue. Surely those of us who value respect for life from womb to tomb find his political rhetoric on abortion oddly out of place with the rest of his behavior and statements.
So how “pro-life” can he actually be?
Marriage. Granted, there is disagreement in the Christian community on the parameters of marriage, you limiting it to heterosexual couples, and we opening it up to same-sex couples. But we’re utterly in agreement with you that intimate, loving, and committed relationships are conducive to the moral and spiritual health, not to mention happiness, of people. We also wholeheartedly agree with you that children need and deserve a loving family context if they’re to thrive. There’s no good empirical evidence to suggest that same-sex couples are less capable parents than heterosexual ones, or that they are disproportionately promiscuous or unfaithful to their vows to one another. Why would God frown upon them? Why would we think their sexuality disqualifies them in the eyes of God from being spouses and parents when we don’t also reject spousal and parental adulterers, drinkers, and abusers?
It may be that we’ll never agree on the issue of sexuality; it seems to be a flashpoint that all of us are way too obsessed with. But two points are worth mentioning.
As both candidate and President-elect, Trump has publicly stated that he has no moral or religious problem with same-sex marriage. So if you voted for him because you thought he’d roll it back, you were deceived. He’s not going to do that; as he said, the Supreme Court has decided the issue, and that’s good enough for him.
Secondly, given the fact that most Christians agree on the fundamental basics of what constitutes marriage, is the broad ground of our agreement really negated by our disagreement over who qualifies as marriage partners?
Religious Liberty. All of us who are Christian surely want the right to worship in peace and freedom from undue interference. This is one of those fundamental principles upon which our nation is founded. Where we disagree is in the particulars—for example, to what extent religious employers can refuse to participate in public policies that violate their consciences, or whether business people have the right to refuse service to certain customers because of religious disapproval of them.
These are thorny and complex issues in which different and legitimate interests, not to mention definitions of “undue interference,” are in competition with one another. There’s no easy solution—but that doesn’t mean that there’s no solution. Two points are worth keeping in mind.
The first is that in a healthy democracy, there’s continuous movement and refinement when it comes to disagreement over policy. Most policies are amenable to adjustment as the need for adjustment gets noticed. Disagreement oughtn’t to be immediately seen as a deal-breaker.
The second is that the threat to religious liberty in this country has been wildly exaggerated. This isn’t North Korea. No one’s been jailed because of her or his religious beliefs, even though a tiny handful have spent a couple of nights in jail for violation of the law and contempt of court. In earlier days, they would’ve referred to their actions as civil disobedience—or, in Christian terms, holy obedience—rather than persecution.
So if the opportunity to witness for the faith, a right guaranteed by the First Amendment, hasn’t in any way been curtailed, it’s important to honestly ask ourselves this question: has our freedom to worship God or to express our religious beliefs really been circumscribed, much less persecuted?
Yet Trump and his closest associates—now, his “transition team”—seem okay with interfering with the First Amendment rights of freedom of speech and freedom of the press. Their willingness to demonize and punish those who speak their minds rather ominously suggests that religious liberty rights, especially for non-Christians or dissenting Christians, may be on shaky grounds as well. Is this a possibility that any of us really want?
So, here’s the thing. Even though single-issue Christians like you who voted for Trump and Christians like me who didn’t may disagree on certain concrete policies, what unites us as members of the Body of Christ surely outweighs our differences. Those of us who deplore Trump’s character and public policy positions have a lot more in common with you than you—or we—may think. And that means that you have nearly nothing in common with Trumpism, even though you voted for Trump.
So, c’mon. Let’s sit down to pray together and listen to one another. I’m not talking reconciliation, if by that one means glossing over very real disagreements. You know, and I know, that’s not healthy. It would be what Martin Luther King, Jr. called an “obnoxious negative peace” in his Letter from a Birmingham Jail. But we can embrace our many shared Christian values, and that’s a far sight better than our current mutual dislike and distrust.
Kerry Walters, who is helping to create an Isaiah 6:8 Group in his local community, may be contacted at kwalters@gettysburg.edu.
