Lone Ranger Christians and Community Dreams

Jerry Falwell, Jr., and Donald Trump: the unholy union of religion and power

Salted generously throughout his book One Nation Under God, Princeton historian Kevin M. Kruse repeatedly states one important phrase: “Christian Libertarianism.” The form of highly public Christianity Americans embraced, beginning around 1940, didn’t derive from St. Paul, Augustine, Luther, or Wesley. It came specifically, Kruse writes, from corporate salesmen and PR agencies, and it existed explicitly to reject the collectivism of FDR’s New Deal, and later, big-C Communism.

This creates a paradox, which Kruse doesn’t explicate (he’s an historian, not a philosopher), but which this Christian cannot ignore: millions of American Christians linking hands, in organized unity, to demand individualism and self-reliance. The massive groundswell of solidarity needed to espouse this kind of libertarianism makes my temporal lobe burn. “We’re stronger together,” such Christians insist, “even if what we’re doing together is demanding complete separation and egocentricity!”

Dressing such borderline narcissism in Christian vestments strikes me as weird, initially. Christian scripture is festooned with references to believers as a unified collective. “I will walk among you and be your God,” says Leviticus 26:12, “and you will be my people.” Likewise, in Hebrews 8:10 we find: “I will be their God, and they will be my people.” As Black slaves sang in America: “When Israel was in Egypt Land, Let my people go.”

Perhaps it’s because we’ve lost much original Biblical language. As Hebraicist Lois Tverberg writes, standard English lacks a second-person plural pronoun, a feature in both Hebrew and Greek. Both Moses and Jesus repeatedly address believers with a plural “you,” a term perhaps best translated with the American regionalism “y’all.” Very seldom did either leader address believers with a singular “you,” unless speaking directly and specifically with an individual.

The version of Christianity peddled aggressively in contemporary America endorses the idea that faith gives Christians complete license to act individually. We’ve witnessed this phenomenon with self-proclaimed Christians who use Christianity to justify rapacious capitalism. Recently, public Christians like Jerry Falwell, Jr., and Franklin Graham (son of Billy, whom Kevin M. Kruse cites extensively) have thrown their religious bona fides behind that notorious sinner, Donald Trump.

Historian Kevin M. Kruse

Fact is, the Bible comprehensively rejects Lone Ranger religion. The Hebrew prophets almost never condemn, or even address, individuals; they stress the entire people’s need to get right with YHWH. Jesus separates “his people” from the political state, even placing his movement in opposition to priesthoods and aristocracies, but he still requires the apostles to feed the multitudes collectively. We cannot save ourselves, Christianity avers; we must act in common.

Let me stress, I’m no advocate of big-C Communism. History and sociology stand robustly against Communist precepts, which actively attempt to abolish local knowledge and adaptability. Perhaps the greatest reason I distrust Communism, though, is its reliance on bigness. Mass movements which seek to establish or accrue power, from revolutions to political parties to PR operations, inevitably oppose the common humanity of individuals. They reduce us all to interchangeable parts.

This includes, ironically enough, libertarianism. Though big-L Libertarianism was founded by nudists, pot farmers, and Star Trek fans, the inevitable outcome of mass deregulation is almost inevitably the sweatshop factory. Christian libertarians generally believe that, if human laws are rescinded, God’s law will elevate the faithful, both spiritually and economically. But the actual denouement of soft regulation has historically been the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire.

Therefore my position pits me between extremes. Neither Soviet-style authoritarian collectivism, nor cowboy libertarianism, actually elevates most people, because both encourage selfish, violent narcissists to hoard wealth and authority. Both of these positions deny the human soul, and thus both deny God. Where, then, must the faithful, Bible-believing Christian land on the curve? Is there any available solution?

Certainly. Many Christians, from historic heroes like Dietrich Bonhoeffer to living innovators like Shane Claiborne, have bequeathed us the blueprints they used to build, or co-build, models of Christian community. These communities are bound together by shared values, a sense of mission—including political mission—and the belief that we’re in this struggle together. Most importantly for our purposes, though, these communities are small, and therefore don’t require either leadership or anarchy.

I cannot read Christian scripture without it reminding me how innately countercultural the faith initially is. Christ embraced lepers, prostitutes, and foreigners, while directing legendary wrath upon priests and potentates. But the only time he acted alone, was when he allowed himself to be arrested and dragged before Pilate. If we call ourselves Christ’s followers, we’d do well to remind ourselves: we may die alone, but we only live together.