Since the midterm elections on Tuesday, a number of white Christian leaders have been very public about their belief that the “blue wave” represents something disturbing to Christians.

Pastor Josh Howerton, pastor of Lakepointe Church and a well-known podcaster, wrote that the election “is sad and grievous. Romans 1 says God’s ‘passive wrath’ is when he ‘gives them up’ to their sin and evil desires – when He stops restraining a people from destroying themselves and lets them have the evil things they want.”

Erik Petrik, editor in chief at Christianity Today, began his election recap somberly. “The election is over, and the results are clear. Exactly two years ago, a certain wave crashed, and the future seemed inevitable. This morning, the tide turned, and our political life once again feels unstable, dramatic, dynamic, contentious.”

According to Franklin Graham, “We see our country inching closer toward socialism, which is historically an enemy of God and His Word.” Graham’s analysis echoed that of Willy Rice, president of the Southern Baptist Convention, who wrote, “Many conservative evangelicals are disappointed, even devastated, by the results of this week’s elections…the consequences are both real and ominous.”

There are other examples of this sort of response and you’ve probably seen your own versions of it, whether from pastors and ministry leaders or acquaintances on social media. Missing from these reactions is any acknowledgement of why many Christians would feel relieved at the restraint of the presidential administration. No mention of those who’ve suffered brutality at the hands of federal immigration officers. No mention of the Black women who were disproportionately impacted by federal job cuts. No mention of the racist policies which have excluded all asylum seekers except white Afrikaners.

Reflecting on why the Republicans lost in so many races, Daniel Darling of The Land Center for Cultural Engagement could only describe ICE’s violence and terror as “overreach.” His description is grossly understated but it at least acknowledges the fact of the administration’s cruelty. Most of the white Christians decrying the election results seem totally ignorant of or disinterested in the suffering unleashed on particular communities around the country.

The consistency of the white Christian grief, combined with an unwillingness to sympathize with those who are experiencing a measure of relief at the checks against the administration’s worst instincts, are revealing. We are left to wonder at the extent of their ignorance. Or, do they simply refuse to believe the witness of the suffering members of Christ's Body? Or, worst of all, have they made the calculation that it is worth exchanging the flourishing of their fellow believers to maintain their own cultural power?

But, someone protests, weren’t there Christians who lamented the rise of President Trump? Was there not a chorus of those who believed his presidency represented a threat to Christian values? Didn’t you also predict ominous consequences as a result of an election?

I want to consider these questions in good faith because there are, in fact, significant differences between the white Christian grief on display this week and the lament expressed by those who’ve been threatened by the Trump presidency.

One of these differences is the way many of these white Christian leaders have made fidelity to the current president a characteristic of Christian faithfulness. His representatives have justified their allegiance to such a selfish leader by assuring the rest of us that he is a “baby Christian” and thus irreverent and also, apparently, deceitful, greedy, and violent. Others have chastised those who’ve pointed out the president’s unvirtuous lifestyle by explaining that the country needs a president not a pastor. In these and other ways, MAGA Christians have told the rest of us that the only way to faithfully express our faith at the polls is to vote for the president and his party. For the Republicans to lose so badly this week means something existential for those who’ve tied their faith to the success of the party.

But for the Christians who’ve grieved the racism, deceit, and corruption of the past decade, hope was never placed in a political party. Partly this is because many of these Christians have never known the privilege of trusting party politics. Historically, for example, most African American Christians have been under no delusion that either major party had their best interest in mind. To cast a vote for one party rather than the other is not to align one’s hope with a worldly kingdom but to choose practically the possibility of surviving and, potentially, thriving. Assuming that God somehow needs the Republican or Democratic party to advance his agenda is absurd to those whose faith has allowed them to endure the selfish agendas and wicked policies of both parties over the generations.

This difference – between the beneficiaries of cultural power and those who’ve endured its worst tendencies – seems too obvious to deserve even this much commentary, yet the despairing white Christians seem oblivious. Their cultural privilege has stopped up their ears to the cries of the vulnerable and shut their eyes to those being harassed by the president to whom they have tied their faith.

The white grieving Christians are upset about what they perceive to be an existential loss. Equating cultural power with their faith in God has left them bereft. There are, though, other Believers who woke up on Wednesday morning able to breathe a little easier. Not because God was on the midterm ballot or because they’ve connected their allegiance to Jesus with partisan ideology but simply because the racists working for the administration might be held accountable. Because the worst of ICE’s violence might be restrained. Because the president’s use of the office for the enrichment of his family and friends might be challenged.

It’s true that many Christians lamented when this president was elected. That lament has continued as the administration has dehumanized our neighbors and terrorized our sisters and brothers in Christ. But the prayerful cry of the vulnerable who haven’t confused their Christian faith with partisan loyalty couldn’t be more different from the grief of the powerful who dread the loss of cultural influence via political might.

To paraphrase Psalm 20:7, we don’t trust in chariots or horses but neither do we grieve when they fall into a ditch.

(Image credit: Jay Brand.)

The View From Here

I recently drove a few hours to Marion, Indiana to celebrate the 10-year anniversary of REAL Community Covenant Church. This is an incredibly special church: multiracial, multi-class, and deeply devoted to Jesus. What a joy to close my message with an invitation to the altar for all those ready to recommit themselves to the ministry of reconciliation. If you’re ever in central Indiana on a Sunday, you’ve got to visit this amazing congregation!