On Character (or: What’s Missing In A Polarized, Hateful, Back-biting, Canceling, Self-Righteous, Judgmental Culture)

By now everyone has had the opportunity to see the irony of the American Left, champions of compassion, responding to the assassination of Christian martyr Charlie Kirk with ridicule and condemnation. We’re also seeing the bizarre claims of the American Right – in whose CV are abortion clinic bombings and anti-LGBT violence – that only the Left is like this. Let’s not miss the meta-conversation about human nature here. This says something profound about the species.

Two recent developments are shaping the human psyche. First, the advent of social media (Instagram in 2010 being the watershed), and second, the pandemic of 2020. Ten years apart, but in the span of world history, adjacent. Social media allowed us to zoom in on each other’s minutae – what we had for breakfast, how we look in the bathroom mirror, what we brag about, and what inflames us. “Comments” sections are a Pandora’s Box of pettiness.

A comedian recently observed: social media has allowed us to see how dumb everyone is. We all had our suspicions, but now we have proof.

A moment later, the pandemic allowed us to see everyone at their worst and most destructive. We all saw, writ large, the power of deception and lies, slander and hate, cancel culture and power mongering. And blame, blame, blame.

I’m not hearing much talk about it, but at the heart of all of this is a longing for character. No political party can claim better standing here. We are, all of us, a greedy, dishonest, murderous, self-righteous lot. We destroy over a disagreement and feign offense over slight infractions. We don’t mourn with those who mourn; we shame them for it.

Character and its target, virtue, are notoriously hard to define, but by it, I mean that self-reflective, self-disciplined attempt to align one’s values with the divine order and hold to them consistently. The divine order is the nature of creation and God’s intention for human nature. We see it most clearly in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. That’s the target; a virtuous life is a life that seeks to imitate Jesus. Character is the self-disciplined attempt to constantly refine one’s self in humility to achieve that target. For a secular person, character is an attempt to align one’s self consistently and repeatedly with an ephemeral goodness (though I don’t see how that can be concretely grounded in anything).

What the ideological extremes in American culture lack is character. Neither one has it because neither one deems it necessary. This is where the mighty middle is so vital. People with character tend to be humble enough to allow others space to be. Character is only forged over long time and through repeated effort. It is the thousand strokes of a chisel before a statue starts to take shape. It is the long work of a soldier, when no enemy is in sight, to throw up a fortress that will stand when the enemy bears down upon them, according to Seneca (Letter 18).

For those who desire to seek character, I can share a few maxims I’ve found as a starting point. You can do your own research to find out where they come from.

“Love your neighbor.

Love your enemy.

If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn the other cheek to them as well.

Don’t repay evil with evil; answer it with good.

Judge other people the way you want to be judged.

Do not let unwholesome talk come out of your mouths.

Be kind, compassionate, and forgiving of one another.

Put the needs of others above your own.

Only three things are going to last – faith, hope, and love. The greatest one is love.”

Without a renewed pursuit of character, I’m afraid we stay where we are. Stuck.

Right-Wing Activism, Christianity, and American Martyrdom

What Charlie Kirk Actually Was

There’s something a bit off about the way the media headlines are reporting on the assassination of Charlie Kirk. They are calling him a “conservative activist” (CNN), a “right-wing activist” (BBC), an “influential figure on the right” (WSJ), a “conservative influencer” (NYT), and a “fearless patriot” (Fox).

It feels to me like they are all dancing around the thing that preceded and grounded all of Kirk’s beliefs.

He was a Christian.

He was a Jesus-follower, a believer, a man of faith. This is not determined or affected by the positions he took on various social and political issues. It was determined by the position he took on the nature of Jesus of Nazareth. Charlie unambiguously called Jesus Lord and Savior.

He was a Christian.

Pretending his faith was irrelevant to his moral viewpoints is like pretending the sun is irrelevant to daylight. Given that it appears that the murderer’s motive was objection to Kirk’s moral views, this was not merely a political act; it was the religious persecution of a Christian who outspokenly preached the message of the gospel. As such, when he was killed for his beliefs, he became a martyr. He is a martyr who died on American soil in a public and grisly way.

So I don’t want us also dancing around two consequences, the way we’re dancing around who he was.

A Consequence For Christians

First, the martyrdom of a Christian on American soil is de facto an attack on all Christians. We are one body. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it (1st Cor. 12:26). We can no longer charge Christians with paranoia when they talk about being persecuted for their faith in America. 

Christians around the world suffer persecution to an extent that most Americans do not imagine. Estimates from the UK Parliament suggest that 1 in every 7 Christians in the world endures some kind of persecution, defining persecution as hostility directed at the target because of their identification with Jesus Christ. The Pew Research Center reports that Christians experience harassment in nearly 75% of countries worldwide. In some countries, they are murdered for their faith or face discrimination that is legally protected.

In America, Christians have enjoyed the status of a majority – influencing laws, education, and culture. Anxiety about persecution among well-to-do, comfortable Christians has largely seemed laughable. Harassment has typically been little more than social bristling.

But now that is not the case. A scale tipped. This is not mockery from the stage or condescension from the university lectern, which Christians have endured for decades. This is murder for faith.

Christians should be aware that we stand on new ground. We are not relieved of Jesus’ command to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, to repay evil with good and bless rather than curse. We are to double down on these things. We also can’t be naive about where we are. More clearly than ever, this is not the Promised Land. This is Babylon. Practice the faith so as to keep it alive in a foreign land.

A Consequence for America

Secondly, there are spiritual consequences for the making of martyrs. It is the cry of the saints that brought down God’s wrath on Pharaoh in the book of Exodus, on Haman in the book of Esther, on Saul when he went after David, on David when he murdered Uriah, on the ruling class when they oppressed the poor, and on Rome when they began martyring Christians.

“The martyrs’ blood is the seed of the church,” said the 2nd century church leader, Tertullian. He knew; he had witnessed the martyrdoms in Carthage. He’s not being poetic when he says this. He’s talking about a spiritual reality that when blood is shed, it calls out from the ground to God, and God gets angry. And God responds.

Secularism in America has taken an evil turn. It is no longer merely the intellectual skepticism of well-mannered agnostics. It has a wing that is seething with hatred and callous towards goodness and towards life.

So let’s be clear. Faith matters when you choose how to conduct your daily life. Faith matters to what you do behind closed doors. Faith matters when you choose who to vote for and when you choose who to date. Faith matters when you decide what to do with your money. It matters to how you form your moral commitments and to what you tell your friends. People of faith can live with deep peace, but we cannot relax. Faith needs to matter in everything we do in Babylon.

Faith must shape our identity, our families, our calling, and our citizenship. Let the people of faith stand up and be counted, unashamed and unafraid, doing everything in the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Blame, Charlie Kirk, and Jesus

We live in a culture addicted to blame. It happened this summer when floods in central Texas killed over two dozen children. Questions began before the waters receded about whether the owners of the camp were negligent. Once upon a time, such natural disasters were written off as “acts of God,” presuming no human liability (though still strangely blaming the Big Guy). We now seem bent on finding fault.

Recently, I’ve watched blame be cast like a net over whatever group an individual might represent – a political party, the mentally ill, a gender, a race, an ideology, or a religion. We used to call this prejudice and bigotry. An intelligent person could distinguish an individual from a group. Pointing to the worst case was understood to be a straw man that was avoiding dealing with the best case, or even the average case. For some reason, a cross-section of Americans now defend broad-brush demonizing.

The History of Blame

It didn’t used to be like this. About a lifetime ago, there was a dramatic shift in the way legal cases placed culpability. Through the 1800s, if you were hurt by a product or service, it was generally your problem. The policy of caveat emptor reigned – buyer beware. In the wake of the Industrial Revolution, a suspicious eye turned towards companies and their wealthy magnates. A decisive case was the 1916 MacPherson vs. Buick Motor Company, where the New York Court of Appeals allowed a man who had been injured by a defective wheel to hold the company liable. Thereafter, contracts were no longer required to prove culpability.

A court ruling in the 1960s then declared that companies could be held liable for defective products even if they hadn’t been negligent.

By the late 20th century, lawsuits abounded – asbestos, medical malpractice, tobacco, and even spilt hot coffee. Blame snowballed. Blame was a multi-billion dollar industry.

Modern neo-liberal, post-civil-rights-era activists and thinkers, particularly in elite universities, have advanced blame to the ideological realm. The recognition of ancestral land ownership, the tracing of longstanding structural inequities to a modern beneficiary, the attribution of explanation for crime to structures rather than individuals, the attribution of health issues to a food industry rather than choice – all of these are modern manifestations of a blame culture stretched to ambiguous ideological grounds. They bring out the wounded and the disingenuous capitalizers alike.

The Spirituality of Blame

Jesus said, “What you loose on earth, you loose in heaven.” When we loose a culture of blame on the earth, we invite a spirit of blame to take spiritual power over our society. I believe we are there.

In the wake of the assassination of Charlie Kirk, blame is an odd thing. The person who shot him was clearly responsible. Given a cogent, functioning mind, that person’s ideology must have been the motive. The culture that created his ideology seems to be the garden that grew it. There must have been gardeners.

But the eagerness to blame Democrats, liberals, or what have you for a violent culture will only go so far. Who murdered Democratic Representative Melissa Hortman? What motivated the shooter in the Buffalo shopping mart? Who has been responsible for abortion clinic bombings and LGBTQ-directed violence in America? The extreme right blames the extreme left and vice versa. The common thread is extremism.

A Way Out

Today, I’m inclined to turn the spirit of this age back on itself. The blame goes to a seething culture of blame. Polarization is a product of the extremes pulling us away from the middle, pulling us away from dialogue and communication. In this landscape, the enemy is clearly “over there” with the guilty and can be attacked from a distance. We need not find common ground – we retreat and leave scorched earth behind us.

One of the things I like best about Jesus of Nazareth is that he was always on the bad guys’ side. When the religious right formed a rock-throwing hoard, Jesus went and stood by the woman caught in adultery. When the nationalists gathered to evaluate Jesus’ loyalty, he went and had lunch with the traitorous tax collector, Zacchaeus. When zealots sought to kill Roman sympathizers and Romans sought to kill rebels, Jesus put Matthew the Roman-employed tax collector and Simon the Zealot in his inner circle of twelve. When he could have been a member of the Sanhedrin, Jesus was counted among sinners. When Creation staged a rebellion against its Creator, Jesus incarnated among the Creation.

Jesus of Nazareth didn’t seek to destroy us when we became his enemies. He sought to win us back. When we crucified him, he did not flood the earth and wash us away. He began, one by one, to win us over to his side. He also didn’t tell us to destroy our enemies. He showed us how to convert them. When I realize what he did for me when I hated him, I can do little more than bow and submit to his Way. It is the way of acknowledging my own guilt rather than finding a group to scapegoat. And rather than throwing rocks, I seek to stand alongside the sinful and broken the way he stood alongside me, with the hope we will forsake sin.

America has submitted itself to a spirit of blame, and we are spiraling in it. Peace will not be found by finally driving out one end of the political spectrum. It will be found by exorcising the spirit of the age and choosing grace instead.