Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2020 17:57:11 GMT
America Is in the Grips of a Fundamentalist Revival
But it’s not Christian.
frenchpress.thedispatch.com/p/america-is-in-the-grips-of-a-fundamentalist
I think there is something profoundly true and insightful about this take. We do seem to be in a fundamentalist moment. And as much as I cheer social transformation and evolution, we have to be equally on guard against the risk of losing our liberal foundations.
But it’s not Christian.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve participated in church services and prayer meetings where I prayed fervently for revival. We cried out for another Great Awakening. It was through repentance and reconciliation that we’d truly heal our land. I must confess, I wasn’t sure I’d ever live to see a truly large-scale religious awakening. But here we are. Here it is. There’s just one catch.
It’s not Christian.
It is, however, quite fundamentalist.
Look, I know full-well that there is nothing original about observing that many Americans have transformed politics into a religion. The phrase “Great Awokening” is a direct callback to arguably the most significant Christian religious revival of our nation’s past. It’s not original, nor is it surprising. We’re hard-wired for a spiritual purpose. After all, Ecclesiastes 3:11 declares that “God put eternity” in the hearts of men.
Make no mistake, political religious fervor is not contained to the left. There are times when Trumpism veers directly onto religious turf. Sometimes quite explicitly. Observe the First Baptist Church of Dallas choir sing a hymn called “Make America Great Again.” Video here
Spend any time around the new Trump right, and you’re immediately seized by how closely it tracks that ‘ole time religion—with Trump serving as the charismatic circuit-riding evangelist. People wonder about his deep bond with so many millions of rural Americans, but it’s obvious to observers who grew up in the South—even if Trump’s a New York reality star, he’s still connecting with a deep (and idealized) rural cultural memory.
The result isn’t just enthusiastic political support (political rallies and preacher-style rhetoric are nothing new in American politics) but a sense of identity, fellowship, and religious passion that’s syncretistic with Christianity, with Trump serving as the Lord’s mighty instrument of justice and righteousness.
So, yes, secular religion is breaking out across the land. That’s old news. Here’s what’s new—it’s growing so very dark. We don’t need to repeat all the recent excesses of cancel culture to know that many anti-racist progressives are in the midst of a hunt for ideological heretics, and even the oldest sins can’t be forgiven. Consider that on Friday a Boeing executive resigned after an employee complained about an article he wrote 33 years ago opposing women in combat.
And if you think religious Trumpism is sweetness and light, you haven’t been paying attention. In fact, right-wing Trumpism is trying its best to build its own cancel culture, aimed at purging right-wing institutions of anti-Trump voices—or at abusing them and hounding them online and in real life. Cruelty isn’t just a means to an end. It’s often the point.
At the edges of Trumpism sit the racist alt-right and the followers of Q, a conspiracy theory so bizarre, incomprehensible, and paranoid that you strain to understand how anyone can believe its claims. Yet it’s growing in strength, and it occupies a deeply spiritual place in the lives of its adherents.
This darkness requires us to circle back to a word in the opening paragraphs of this essay—“fundamentalist.” The more I experienced the extremes of both left and right, the more I felt like words such as “illiberal” or “authoritarian” or even “religious” didn’t quite capture the totality of the devotion and the darkness of the world view. “Fundamentalist” is a better match.
Recall the end of the book of Job, when the righteous, suffering man demands an explanation for his plight from the God of the universe, and the God of the universe responds with an extended soliloquy that essentially declares, “I’m God, and you’re not.” And what is Job’s response? “Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth.”
As a consequence, while there are many, many things we can know about God—and many things we can learn—we must approach our faith and our world with a sense of existential humility.
And that is exactly the quality that the fundamentalist lacks. It’s the fierce existential certainty of the fundamentalist that is so often the root of authoritarianism and illiberalism. I’m reminded of the old religious maxim, “Error has no rights.” That impulse lies at the heart of much of the Christian nationalist/integralist critique of classical liberalism. That impulse lies at the heart of the speech code and the metastasizing intolerance of woke capitalism.
It’s not Christian.
It is, however, quite fundamentalist.
Look, I know full-well that there is nothing original about observing that many Americans have transformed politics into a religion. The phrase “Great Awokening” is a direct callback to arguably the most significant Christian religious revival of our nation’s past. It’s not original, nor is it surprising. We’re hard-wired for a spiritual purpose. After all, Ecclesiastes 3:11 declares that “God put eternity” in the hearts of men.
Make no mistake, political religious fervor is not contained to the left. There are times when Trumpism veers directly onto religious turf. Sometimes quite explicitly. Observe the First Baptist Church of Dallas choir sing a hymn called “Make America Great Again.” Video here
Spend any time around the new Trump right, and you’re immediately seized by how closely it tracks that ‘ole time religion—with Trump serving as the charismatic circuit-riding evangelist. People wonder about his deep bond with so many millions of rural Americans, but it’s obvious to observers who grew up in the South—even if Trump’s a New York reality star, he’s still connecting with a deep (and idealized) rural cultural memory.
The result isn’t just enthusiastic political support (political rallies and preacher-style rhetoric are nothing new in American politics) but a sense of identity, fellowship, and religious passion that’s syncretistic with Christianity, with Trump serving as the Lord’s mighty instrument of justice and righteousness.
So, yes, secular religion is breaking out across the land. That’s old news. Here’s what’s new—it’s growing so very dark. We don’t need to repeat all the recent excesses of cancel culture to know that many anti-racist progressives are in the midst of a hunt for ideological heretics, and even the oldest sins can’t be forgiven. Consider that on Friday a Boeing executive resigned after an employee complained about an article he wrote 33 years ago opposing women in combat.
And if you think religious Trumpism is sweetness and light, you haven’t been paying attention. In fact, right-wing Trumpism is trying its best to build its own cancel culture, aimed at purging right-wing institutions of anti-Trump voices—or at abusing them and hounding them online and in real life. Cruelty isn’t just a means to an end. It’s often the point.
At the edges of Trumpism sit the racist alt-right and the followers of Q, a conspiracy theory so bizarre, incomprehensible, and paranoid that you strain to understand how anyone can believe its claims. Yet it’s growing in strength, and it occupies a deeply spiritual place in the lives of its adherents.
This darkness requires us to circle back to a word in the opening paragraphs of this essay—“fundamentalist.” The more I experienced the extremes of both left and right, the more I felt like words such as “illiberal” or “authoritarian” or even “religious” didn’t quite capture the totality of the devotion and the darkness of the world view. “Fundamentalist” is a better match.
Recall the end of the book of Job, when the righteous, suffering man demands an explanation for his plight from the God of the universe, and the God of the universe responds with an extended soliloquy that essentially declares, “I’m God, and you’re not.” And what is Job’s response? “Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth.”
As a consequence, while there are many, many things we can know about God—and many things we can learn—we must approach our faith and our world with a sense of existential humility.
And that is exactly the quality that the fundamentalist lacks. It’s the fierce existential certainty of the fundamentalist that is so often the root of authoritarianism and illiberalism. I’m reminded of the old religious maxim, “Error has no rights.” That impulse lies at the heart of much of the Christian nationalist/integralist critique of classical liberalism. That impulse lies at the heart of the speech code and the metastasizing intolerance of woke capitalism.
I think there is something profoundly true and insightful about this take. We do seem to be in a fundamentalist moment. And as much as I cheer social transformation and evolution, we have to be equally on guard against the risk of losing our liberal foundations.