The conflict between the supporters of Donald Trump and the elected members of the US Congress reached a peak on Jan 6 that increased concern among Christians about the role of Church members in divisive political action.
"catholic" Church from left to right
A specialist in American Christianity and historical theology, Dr. Stephen Nichols combines a passion for church history with a love for the Reformed tradition as he presents a history of the Apostle’s Creed on the website 5 Minutes in Church History.
Each phrase of the creed opens up for us multiple passages of Scripture and multiple theological themes and ideas. But the phrases at the end of the Creed are particularly worth pondering: “I believe in the holy catholic church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting.” Think about each one of those phrases and its impact on how we live. Think about the perspective on life that those phrases give us. It’s so easy to get caught up in our own moment, in our own day, and get caught up in the pressures and not realize that there is the life to come. As we think about our own church communities, relational struggles, issues at work, and those sorts of things that can fester, it is good to think about what it means to speak of the forgiveness of sins. And then we’re reminded of the life everlasting. And this creed that reminds us is a great gift from the early church.1
The United Methodist Church offers Traditional and Ecumenical Versions of the Apostle’s Creed.
I believe in God, the Father Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth;
And in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord;
who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,
born of the Virgin Mary,
suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, dead, and buried;*
the third day he rose from the dead;
he ascended into heaven,
and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty;
from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit,
the holy catholic** church,
the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,and the life everlasting. Amen.2
Rebecca Bratten Weiss writing in the National Catholic Reporter claims Bishop Robert Barron’s 'beige Catholicism' erases years of racial, and social justice activism. It is not enough simply to decry ideological battles as vitriolic or uncivil. We need to see that often these battles are between those who are advancing agendas of hatred and violence, and those who are upholding justice. Far-right Catholics are not simply problematic due to their rejection of papal authority; they are dangerous, because they have traded fidelity to the pope for a license to violence and bigotry.
And the ones who are doing the most, risking the most, to oppose this anti-Christ agenda are not the moderates who avoid taking a strong stand against bigotry. The Catholics on the frontlines are the ones who would probably be labeled liberal, modernist or progressive. Are these the "beige" Catholics? Or would that term be better reserved for Catholics who take a polite middle ground where they'll rarely have to see injustice, let alone confront it?3
Bishop Robert Barron writes that Word on Fire represents a “No” to both beige and self-devouring Catholicism.
It wants neither to surrender to the culture nor to demonize it, but rather, in the spirit of St. John Henry Newman, to engage it, resisting what it must and assimilating what it can, being, as St. Paul put it, “all things to all people . . . for the sake of the Gospel” (1 Cor. 9:22–23). Against self-devouring Catholicism, it is intellectually generous, but against beige Catholicism, it desires to make all thoughts finally captive to Christ. Against the angry denizens of the Catholic right, it seeks not to condemn but to invite; against the representatives of the too-complacent Catholic left, it sees evangelization as the centrally important work of the Church.4
The Pillar is a Catholic media project focused on smart, faithful, and serious journalism, from committed and informed Catholics who love the Church. The focus is on investigative journalism. Presenting stories that matter can help the Church to better serve its sacred mission, the salvation of souls. Before co-founding The Pillar, JD Flynn was editor-in-chief of Catholic News Agency. Ed Condon worked as the DC editor of the Catholic News Agency and was an associate editor of the Catholic Herald. His journalistic work has appeared in publications including the Washington Post, National Review, the Washington Examiner, the Spectator, the Bulwark, First Things, as well as several academic and legal journals.
JD is a member of the College of Fellows at the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology, has served a consultor to the USCCB, and is published in the Washington Post, the New York Post, First Things, The Lamp, National Review, and in various Catholic publications. Before co-founding The Pillar, Ed Condon worked as the DC editor of the Catholic News Agency and was an associate editor of the Catholic Herald. His journalistic work has appeared in publications including the Washington Post, National Review, the Washington Examiner, the Spectator, the Bulwark, First Things, as well as several academic and legal journals. Ed is also a practicing canon lawyer, having worked in dioceses across three continents and the Holy See. Previously he spent nearly ten years working in professional politics in the United Kingdom.5
In accord with its goal to provide Catholic news free of charge, CNA and ACI Prensa are funded, almost entirely, by gifts from our readers and benefactors.
Catholic News Agency is an apostolate of EWTN News.6
G.K. Chesterton, the great essayist and creator of the fictional detective Father Brown, described the Catholic Herald as the only newspaper he trusted. It claims to be the gold standard of Catholic news, analysis, and culture writing since the 19th century.
The Catholic Herald is one of the world’s oldest and most trusted Catholic publications. Founded in London in 1888 — yes, the same year as the Jack the Ripper murders — we have a storied background and over 130 years of wisdom that we bring to covering the Church today.7
The Economist writes in the article, Two Nations under God, that Evangelicals are divided over the movement’s support for Donald Trump. The slow death of a culture can, however, lead to resurrection. In Oregon a group of Christian ngos has sprung up, whose founders are theologically evangelical and socially conservative but have no links to politically conservative evangelicalism. The left-leaning state government is working enthusiastically with them. Ben Sand runs a group called Every Child, which mobilises communities to work with Oregon’s Department for Human Services.
“Evangelicals look at Oregon and say this is where God goes to die,” says Mr Sand. But having no cultural power can be helpful to the spiritual message, he says. “The best thing for the evangelical movement is for it to lose its cultural influence, because only in that context of humility, of going back to what matters most in the ethics of Jesus, will the church find its soul again.” The detachment of faith from right-wing politics appeals to Fariborz Pakseresht, director of the state’s dhs: “Perhaps this is what true Christianity looks like.” Mr Sand says evangelicals need a more biblical definition of Christian victory, one that is not political. He and many of his millennial friends voted Democrat and he says that does not define them. Millennial evangelicals are no less socially conservative but many are less political. They are more racially diverse, care more about racial justice, immigration and climate change. The old battlegrounds such as gay marriage interest them less. “We lost the culture wars. I’m not fighting for a power I never had,” says John Mark Comer, an influential young pastor in Portland.8
Shadi Hamid, contributing writer at The Atlantic, comments that as religious faith has declined, ideological intensity has risen. He asks if the quest for secular redemption through politics will doom the American ideal. Though the United States wasn’t founded as a Christian nation, Christianity was always intertwined with America’s self-definition. Without it, Americans, conservatives and liberals alike, may no longer have a common culture upon which to fall back.
Unfortunately, the various strains of wokeism on the left and Trumpism on the right cannot truly fill the spiritual void—what the journalist Murtaza Hussain calls America’s “God-shaped hole.” Religion, in part, is about distancing yourself from the temporal world, with all its imperfection. At its best, religion confers relief by withholding final judgments until another time—perhaps until eternity. The new secular religions unleash dissatisfaction not toward the possibilities of divine grace or justice but toward one’s fellow citizens, who become embodiments of sin—“deplorables” or “enemies of the state.” This is the danger in transforming mundane political debates into metaphysical questions. Political questions are not metaphysical; they are of this world and this world alone. “Some days are for dealing with your insurance documents or fighting in the mud with your political opponents,” the political philosopher Samuel Kimbriel recently told me, “but there are also days for solemnity, or fasting, or worship, or feasting—things that remind us that the world is bigger than itself.”9
The motto “WWJD” (What would Jesus Do?) was taken to the pulpit by Congregational church minister Charles Monroe Sheldon in the 1890s. It is time for Christianity to ponder this question as we seek to help a world of inequality, racial injustice, political conflict, and environmental upheaval.
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