A Liminal Space for Christianity and Democracy
I am writing this post on a cold and rainy Saturday morning, between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. For those of us who observe these holidays, the day in between is one of waiting. Christ has been crucified and entombed, and we wait in hope for his resurrection. Of course, it is easier to wait when we know how the story, or at least this part of it, ends.
When we don’t know how the story ends, waiting is harder. And right now we have reason to be uncertain about what the future holds for both Christianity and democracy in the U.S.–and the extent to which their fates may be intertwined. Thus we are living and waiting in a liminal space.
Franciscan Friar Richard Rohr defines liminal space as,
“An inner state and sometimes an outer situation where we can begin to think and act in new ways. It is where we are betwixt and between, having left one room or stage of life but not yet entered the next. We usually enter liminal space when our former way of being is challenged or changed—perhaps when we lose a job or a loved one, during illness, at the birth of a child, or a major relocation. It is a graced time, but often does not feel “graced” in any way. In such space, we are not certain or in control. This global pandemic we now face is an example of an immense, collective liminal space….Liminal space is where we are most teachable, often because we are most humbled. Liminality keeps us in an ongoing state of shadowboxing instead of ego-confirmation, struggling with the hidden side of things, and calling so-called normalcy into creative question.”
Whatever your political persuasion, you likely don’t need to be convinced that our democracy feels “betwixt and between.” The travails of Christianity in America are similarly fraught. Consider the chart below from the Pew Research Center, which traces the ongoing secularization of Christians in the U.S.:
Over the past decade, the portion of the U.S. population professing to be Christian has fallen by 12%, with the vast majority of the drop off occurring among protestant congregations. The steady secularization has coincided with wave after wave of scandals involving sexual abuse and institutional corruption in the church. While the waves occurred initially and notoriously in the Catholic Church, in recent years, multiple prominent protestant churches and institutions have been laid low by similar outrages.
We should consider the ways in which the disarray of democracy and Christianity in the U.S. might be mutually reinforcing. David Campbell, a political scientist at Notre Dame and a leading scholar of religion in American public life, recently summarized his research on this connection:
“In the United States, religion and partisan politics have become increasingly intertwined. The rising level of religious disaffiliation is a backlash to the religious right: many Americans are abandoning religion because they see it as an extension of politics with which they disagree. Politics is also shaping many Americans’ religious views. There has been a stunning change in the percentage of religious believers who, prior to Donald Trump’s presidential candidacy, overwhelmingly objected to immoral private behavior by politicians but now dismiss it as irrelevant to their ability to act ethically in their public role. The politicization of religion not only contributes to greater political polarization, it diminishes the ability of religious leaders to speak prophetically on important public issues.”
Rather than backing off, many Christian pastors and church members on the Evangelical right are doubling down on their devotion to Donald Trump and syncretic forms of Christian nationalism.
The challenges are not limited to the religious right. While progressives in aggregate are increasingly secular, the unstinting demands for justice made by some on the left bear the hallmarks of excessive if quasi-religious zeal. This point came up in a fascinating panel I recently listened to among three progressive faith leaders, all of whom happened to be people of color. They acknowledged, rather ruefully, that in some causes and coalitions in which they have led, participants have come to see certain secular voices and texts as sacred. They have established orthodoxies, often conveyed via complex jargon known to the initiated, which are heretical to question. However, on the left as on the right, movements focused more on rooting out heretics than in engaging potential converts are harder pressed to grow and sustain their influence over time.
And yet, despite these patterns, I am more optimistic than ever about the potential for Christians to help get our democracy out of the ditch. The past decade has witnessed more widespread, prominent, and constructive Christian voices coming into the public square. These leaders are speaking to and exemplifying the things our democracy needs more of to flourish. These include inclusive pluralism (within and across religious traditions), winsome and civil public engagement, a determined quest for racial justice, neighborliness, spiritual humility, and–not least–hopefulness.
To give you a feel for the rich variety of voices I am alluding to, let me share an alphabetized list with embedded links of those I would commend to your attention. I have found each of these individuals to be quite relevant for my own reflections and discernment at different junctures over the past two years. They include Adam Taylor, Andy Hanauer, Anne Snyder, Cherie Harder, Christine Emba, Curtis Chang, David French, Esau McCaulley, Jen Bailey, John Inazu, Josh Good, Kristen Kobes Du Mez, Michael Wear, Michael-Ray Mathews, Peter Wehner, Tim Keller, Tish Harrison Warren, and Samuel Kimbriel.
Note this list is quite eclectic and idiosyncratic to me. The people appearing on it would describe their faith and its centrality to their work in different ways. No doubt readers will have others they would add – by all means drop them in the comments below. Note also that while a few of these individuals would self-identify as pastors, most would use another professional label, e.g., columnist, commentator, community organizer, editor, journalist, professor, nonprofit leader, etc. Regardless, I list them here because of the contributions they are making as they go about their public work while representing the faith I happen to share with them. In the process, they are helping to improve democracy in America. That is something we all can celebrate, not just those of us who are waiting, on this rainy day before Easter.
