Who’s hiding from our president’s polarization? Go check the pews
The primary problem that Babe — the titular pig hero of the “Babe” film franchise — encounters in his first outing has nothing to do with his status as a pig. Indeed, by the film’s end, Babe is celebrated with an approving, “That’ll do, pig,” and a smile from his master.
For years, the sheep had been led by a group of dogs they knew as wolves because these wolves only barked at them and nipped at their ankles; the dogs soon embraced their role as wolves and lost any sense of the care or empathy needed in shepherding a flock. I fear much the same has happened within the Christian community.
Humorist Will Rogers once noted that, “the short memories of American voters is what keeps politicians in office.” Though 81 percent of white Evangelicals voted for Donald Trump, that statistic betrays the fact that there is a whole swath of other Christian voters — white and otherwise — that did not choose him. I believe the members of the president’s unofficial faith advisory council will learn that there are some of us whose memories are blessedly not short.
There is already evidence of this: Liberty University students have been sending their degrees back to the university in a show of protest over its president, Jerry Falwell Jr., and his continued public engagement with Trump.
Christian media outlets like the quietly powerful Gospel Coalition, the magazine Evangelical Christianity Today and the millennial-oriented Relevant Magazine have become increasingly frequent in their criticism of the Trump administration’s moral character. It is clear the sheep have had enough. The sheep are tired of being ruled by shepherds who have embraced their role as wolves.
The members of Trump’s unofficial faith advisory council should immediately renounce their membership and step away from any front-facing role that sees them partnered with the current administration. As faith leaders, they have an obligation to their respective congregations and audiences to serve Christ faithfully and firstly.
What price was paid to buy their silence following the president’s extraordinary mishandling of Charlottesville, the utter lack of human empathy for those in Harvey’s path, and now the repeal of DACA? The modern equivalent of 30 pieces of silver, no doubt: more social media followers, television time, or perhaps a promise of a donation toward another $130 million church facility.
How many potential new brothers and sisters in Christ have stayed away because of these shepherds’ need to be seated at the right hand of Trump? What percentage of their congregations have felt isolated and afraid to speak up out of fear of retribution because they were not a part of the 81 percent? When you have been bitten and barked at for so long, it no longer makes you respect the wolf; it makes you resentful of it.
My hope is that more will follow the Rev. A.R. Bernard’s lead — he resigned from the White House’s evangelical advisory board after Charlottesville — and excuse themselves from membership. I dare not challenge the great many things these individuals have done for the faith; I only ask that they return to their flock and refuse to bite no more. In a 2012 interview with D Magazine, the Rev. Robert Jeffress is described as to having never changed his “about anything, ever.” I pray that this is one time he will feel moved to a change of mind.
As for me, I am no one. I don’t have a pulpit or a following. I heed the grave warning given to those that dare count themselves as teachers amongst believers. I count myself chief amongst the sinners and grieve my sin — but am thankful for the grace I have been given. I am a mere pig, rolling around in my own muck, hoping that on the day I meet my maker, He will look down to me and say, “That’ll do, pig.”
I am happy that President Donald Trump came to Texas to check out the results of Harvey’s visit.
In 2011, the Texas drought killed 300 million trees in Texas. The Bastrop fire — also that year — was the most destructive wildfire in Texas history.
Houston has seen four 100year flooding events since the spring of 2015. From 1900 to 1999, the average number of triple-digit days in Austin was only 11 per year. From 2000 to 2015, Austin averaged 32 triple-digit days per year.
Texas weather has always been extreme, yes — but climate change takes the existing music and turns up the volume. More heat, more evaporation, greater downpours.
In the past 30 years of records, no storm west of Florida has intensified in the last 12 hours before landfall. Until now.
Climate change is not a future problem. It’s a current threat.