Christians must wake up and see the threat the President poses to their values

man governor Pontius Pilate, and the local religious leaders who offered him calculated encouragement, were conscious of their part in salvation history. What they were conscious of was that Jesus was a real and potential threat to their power and authority.

Jesus frequently had confrontations with these rulers of the people, treating them with disdain and scorn (Luke 13:31-33, and 20:9-19). He spared no words in his criticism of the rich and powerful (Luke 6:2425, 16:14,15,19-31, 18:24-25, 20:46-47), and on one occasion he specifically condemned the kings of the Gentiles, who sought power and dominated their subjects while calling themselves “benefactors.”

He contrasted his own approach to power with that of the secular rulers and called upon his disciples to imitate not them, but his own servant style of leadership (Luke 22:24-27, Mark 10:35-45). Jesus, in fact, told his disciples to expect persecution from political authorities on his account, and he instructed them in how to bear witness when they are “brought before kings and governors for my name’s sake” (Luke 21:12-25). Jesus’ cleansing of the temple was a flagrant act of civil disobedience aimed at the religious, economic and political power center of the established order. The temple symbolized the power of the ruling authorities. Jesus acted directly against their authority by accusing them of corrupting the worship of the temple and by challenging their economic base: “My house shall be a house of prayer; but you have made it a den of robbers” (Luke 20:45-46).

Jesus’ anger is clear in the scene’s description. He took direct public action, and his behavior was bold and startling to all those around. His action was deeply political and a fundamental challenge to the economy of the temple.

The temple authorities recognized a frontal assault on the religious and political establishment and demanded that Jesus explain what his authority was for doing such a thing. Jesus, using the image of the temple itself, pointed to his own resurrection as his authority.

That temple action sparked a chain of events which led to his crucifixion.

At his trials before the Sanhedrin, Herod and Pilate, Jesus showed little respect and no deference toward the instituted authority. Rather, he risked antagonizing them in his answers to their questions and with his lack of cooperation.

But Jesus not only confronted the reigning authorities directly, he initiated a whole new way of living which undermined the entire system upon which their rule was based. This new order, which relied on the power of love, and hewed suffering and servanthood rather than violence and domination, represented a profound threat to leaders of the establishment. It was such a threat, in fact, that they marked him for death.

Easter is a season of hope. It is my hope that this Holy Week and Easter day become a wake-up call to Christians who support Trump in spite of the clear teachings of their Christian faith.

For example, might those Christians who supported Trump out of a political Supreme Court strategy to protect the unborn — and who have just notched what they consider a victory in the confirmation of Neil Gorsuch to fill Antonin Scalia’s open seat — start to call for some consistency from their President in protecting all of the vulnerable during all of their lives?

Jesus’ clash with the ruling religious and political authorities of his day surely has a message for us this Easter season. Yet the idea that the gospel lives in conflict with the ruling axioms and authorities of the American nation still sends tremors through a church that has fought so hard to achieve majority status.

We still want to make the gospel compatible with our cultural desires and loyalties. But we can’t.

Most of us have yet to fully realize the enormous distance between the culture to which we are so tied and the gospel we espouse. We have greatly underestimated the disruption and struggle that genuine conversion will occasion in our lives.

The message is the same in each case. Suffering is the natural consequence of living the gospel; joy and strength are the fruits of suffering for the sake of Christ.

Perhaps the most grievous thing about the white American church today is the absence of suffering and struggle. It is, in fact, our fear of suffering that has extinguished the possibility of real joy.

It is a great mystery, this relationship between suffering and joy, weakness and strength. But to those who have known it, it has been the deepest of all human experiences.

Such is the rhythm of Lent, Holy Week, and Easter. We are invited to follow Jesus as he heads toward Jerusalem where power resides, to enter into his sufferings and to feel the power of his resurrection.

It has never made sense. But the truth of it has been confirmed in the experience of Christians who, since the beginning, have been willing to take the risk. A faith refined by fire is the testimony of all Christians who now suffer for the sake of the gospel. And that is what has always changed the world, often sparking the greatest social movements, instead of merely accommodating to it.

Entering the sufferings of Christ in our own situation offers the American church its only real future. The time is rapidly approaching when we will no longer be able to avoid this reality. To avoid the path of suffering is to remain ignorant of Jesus; to embrace it is to learn intimacy with Christ.

Our hunger for security and success has taken away our appetite for the gospel. May we seek the grace to enter into an authentic and biblical faith, to stand with the poor and vulnerable, and to become faithful again. Wallis is president and founder of Sojourners and author of “America’s Original Sin: Racism, White Privilege and the Bridge to a New America.”