Holy Week has arrived and with it comes both moments of great darkness and moments of great joy.  On Thursday, our church participates in a not uncommon tradition found in the Episcopal church.  At the end of the Maundy Thursday service, members of the altar guild will, in total silence, remove all decorations from the altar and the surrounding areas.  The choir removes their white robes, flowers are hidden away, the lectern is laid bare and dark and then, once all has been removed, a black veil is dropped from the ceiling to cover the altar screen.  It is a powerful moment when everything is stripped away. The silence is palpable.

This somber mood is wiped away on Easter Sunday, when the trumpets play, the cross is light, the liturgy is joyful and the hymns uplifting.  But what makes the Easter service so celebratory is the contrast to what had occurred prior.  As a nation we need to acknowledge that we are approaching a political and societal Maundy Thursday and that unless we push for the reconciliation and grace that Easter represents, we will be stuck in melancholy and doom.

Today I read one of the smartest articles about the politicization of religion in the United States that I have ever read.  The author, Michael Gerson, in The Atlantic traces the path to which a section of Evangelicals have publicly and vehemently supported Trump, despite the man’s wide ranging and well documented moral issues that would, on the surface, make Trump an outcast of the Evangelical movement.  Gerson lays bare what some of the issues are, going back to what Evangelicalism looked like 150 years ago compared to what it looks like now.  At one point as Gerson talks about the growing racial divide (versus the support nineteenth century Evangelicals gave to fighting segregation), he makes the following statement:

“I do not believe that most evangelicals are racist. But every strong Trump supporter has decided that racism is not a moral disqualification in the president of the United States. And that is something more than a political compromise. It is a revelation of moral priorities.”

I applaud Gerson’s focus on reinforcing the idea that the beliefs of a view do not equate to the views of all.  But I think he stopped short of what I believe the full condemnation to be.  For it is not just a racial issue but it’s also a woman’s issue, an urban issue, and a human rights issue.  Gerson does acknowledge all of this.  For me, I think we need to make a harsher statement:

Every strong Trump supporter has decided that racism, misogyny, greed, selfishness and disrespect for common human values are not moral disqualifications not only for any God-fearing and God-loving person but also for the president of the United States.  And that is an indication of godlessness and lack of morality.

To be clear, Gerson is not soft-spoken in his own views on the issue:

“…Evangelical leaders have associated the Christian faith with racism and nativism. They have associated the Christian faith with misogyny and the mocking of the disabled. They have associated the Christian faith with lawlessness, corruption, and routine deception. They have associated the Christian faith with moral confusion about the surpassing evils of white supremacy and neo-Nazism.”

And Gerson is clear that the fault doesn’t lie with just a small group:

“…it would be a mistake to regard the problem as limited to a few irresponsible leaders. Those leaders represent a clear majority of the movement, which remains the most loyal element of the Trump coalition. Evangelicals are broadly eager to act as Trump’s shield and sword. They are his army of enablers.”

I applaud Gerson for his willingness to identify an issue with such clarity and make it clear that the blame needs to be shared.  So here is a question as we prepare for the darkest moments of Holy Week—have we gotten to a point where political power matters more than the love of Jesus?  Do we believe that lack of morality is acceptable so long as it furthers what is purported to be “a more Christian agenda”?  Do we value human life so little that we are willing to accept open bigotry, insults, defamation as ways of running our nation and our society?

More importantly, can Christians support Trump?

Gerson as a political and theological writer doesn’t answer this question as he set out to provide an understanding of how this development has occurred, not to give his opinion on the underlying question.  I think Gerson’s feelings on the subject can at least be suspected in one of his final quotes:

“Christianity is love of neighbor, or it has lost its way. And this sets an urgent task for evangelicals: to rescue their faith from its worst leaders.”

So let me say what Gerson didn’t.  I believe that Trump is diametrically opposed to the gracious and redemptive love that Jesus provided.  He values materialism over humanity, conflict and name calling over diplomacy and division over unity.  Trump is no different from the Pharisees Jesus himself condemned.  You may call yourself many things, but if you support Trump without any qualms and turn a blind eye to exactly how un-Christlike he is, then “Christian” is not a term you should use.

Let it be noted that both Gerson and I are optimist who look for the redemption of what people will perceive that it means to be a Christian and an American.  But that redemption will only come if we acknowledge just how dark things are right now.

I encourage you to read the full article:

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2018/04/the-last-temptation/554066/