Jesus and Voting for Donald Trump

Everyday my newsfeed seems full of Donald Trump. Now because he is officially the Republican nominee for president of the United States. This alone is unbelievable and horrifying, but far more harrowing is the resurgence of Facebook posts and blogs from people asserting that God told them to support Donald Trump.

Now I'm pretty sure if Jesus was here on earth he wouldn't be engaging too much in politics. I am quite confident if Jesus was here today he would be spending time with those in poverty, seeing the people often unseen by society, acknowledging and validating people's humanity, and engaging in the lives and stories of those marginalized for their skin color, sexuality, or religion.

I'm not sure if Jesus would vote or not, so I'm not going to be one to say who he would vote for. But I'm very sure that if Jesus were to vote, he would not vote for Donald Trump. 

You can tell me that I don't know that, because I'm not God. And this would be true. I cannot speak for God. But I can talk about the Jesus I know, and I can assure you the things that Donald Trump says and does are vastly out-of-line with the way of Jesus Christ. 

Jesus spent his time with those hated most by society. He spent time with the hungry and sick. He spoke to women, which was already radical because he actually stopped to acknowledge their equal humanity, but he went even farther and spoke to the women no one associated with. He touched people who were sick and dying, often making himself "unclean" according to the religious tradition of the day just to with with someone cast out by society. He entered the homes of the "sinner," and spent so much time with those on the margins that the people in power whispered about him behind closed doors. 

Jesus spoke with such radical love and inclusivity that it threatened hierarchical power structures and got him killed. Donald Trump sits at the top of a pyramid of power, using his power to further marginalize, using fear to control people, and spreading hatred and lies. 

Jesus went to those cast out and built relationships with them, the very ones Donald Trump promises to keep and kick out of this "great country." 

In fact, in line with Donald Trump's racism, xenophobia, anti-semitism, lack of compassion for the poor, and so much more, Jesus probably wouldn't even be allowed to enter the United States. 

But if he made it in, I think Jesus would spend time with Donald Trump. Not out of support, because nothing about the way of Jesus in line with what Donald Trump stands for, but because Jesus acknowledged the humanity of everyone. Jesus ate dinner with the oppressed and the oppressor. He ate dinner with the tax collectors too, the ones taking advantage of the system and using it to further themselves while stealing from those already too poor to pay taxes to the government, much less the additional "fees" added on by the tax collectors that went into their own pockets. Jesus spent time with them too. And his love for them, willingness to engage with their humanity also, changed the hearts of the tax collectors (like Matthew) who followed him. I do not believe Jesus would ever vote for Donald Trump, but I think he'd at least try to have dinner with him. 

Whether Trump would ever accept the invitation to dinner with a Middle Eastern poor man is another question entirely. 

The Unexpected Prophets, Part 1

Some of the most influential and shaping things I have heard were not from well-known speakers on stages or platforms, but from passing comments made by unknown prophets - folks full of humble wisdom. 

It always seems to be the most unexpected moments and words that stick in your mind, resurfacing in at unlikeliest times, challenging you to reframe your perspective and move forward with a different understanding, perhaps a broader understanding that allows you more freedom to move and breathe and believe.  

I've found that happening to me, continually my worldview is challenged, my opinions shift, even if ever so slightly. These movements in a new direction are gradual, until one day someone tells you how much you have changed, and you pause to revisit all the moments that carried you this new way.

We all know life's a journey, there are however many thousands of inspirational quotes and pretty Pinterest-worthy text-images about life being about the adventure, the journey along the way, not the destination. It's a nice thought, that I wonder how many of us actually believe. 

I think faith is like that. That journey-thing.

People talk about how faith is just about the journey, not the final destination. But behind that quotable statement, the person behind the curtain is still trying to figure it all out, still trying to find all the answers, still trying to KNOW. 

But what if we can't know? What if God is unfathomable and the journey of faith is finding that you can never really understand, that there is nothing concrete to discover, and that all the things you think you know are part of a vast mystery? What if that is the beauty of God, that He cannot really be known? 

Christianity talks about knowing God, goodness I use that phrase all the time! And I believe God allows us to know Him in part, and I also believe part of that knowing is surrendering to the unknowability of God. 

“The argument is made that naming God is never really naming God 

but only naming our understanding of God. 

To take our ideas of the divine and hold them as if they correspond 

to the reality of God is thus to construct a conceptual idol 

built from the materials of our mind," 

says author and philosopher, Peter Rollins. 

What if God is a mystery and faith isn't about knowing more the older you get, but knowing less? What if wisdom isn't about possessing more knowledge, but developing the humility to acknowledge you don't know?

This was the idea presented to me through an offhand comment made by the husband of someone I know through mutual friends and the beauty of Denver's network of servant-hearted, Jesus-loving folks. 

It's so clear, sitting at a round table at a fundraiser. We were towards the back, a table half-filled with people, but full of depth in conversation. I don't remember his name, and I have no recollection of what our conversation was about, or what brought us to the topic of our journeys with Jesus. But I remember what he said. 

He said when he was younger he thought his faith was all about knowing more about God, and expected that as he grew older he would eventually know everything. "But the older I've gotten, the more I see how little I know, and the more God is a mystery to me." 

How beautiful. This being a child, simply in awe of the love and beauty of the Father/Motherliness of God and not feel the need to know everything to be safe in His love. 

God is with us. He is not for, He is not again, He is with. Can we allow that to be enough? 

He is unfathomable, He is not completely knowable. But like Mr. Beaver tells Lucy in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, "‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.” 

And again later, "“He'll be coming and going" he had said. "One day you'll see him and another you won't. He doesn't like being tied down--and of course he has other countries to attend to. It's quite all right. He'll often drop in. Only you mustn't press him. He's wild, you know. Not like a tame lion.” 

         He's a mystery,

         This wild, untamable God.

         He's safe, 

         This sacrificial, surrendering Lord.

         He's calling, 

         This mother waiting to hold her child.

         He's faithful, 

         This running, open-armed Father.

         He's near,

         This heartbroken, Friend.

         He's scary, 

         This unknown, unfathomable Spirit.

         He's good, 

         This merciful, steadfast King.

         He's kind,

         This God who sees and knows. 

         He's a refuge,

         This Spirit with sheltering wings.

         He's everywhere,

         This God whose name is Love.

         He's a mystery,

         This God inviting you to simply abide.

                        (Original poetry by Katy Owens)

Will you let go? Surrender to the mystery? It may be the only way we can ever "know" this crazy, loving, mystery of a God. 

•  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  

“Here God is not approached as an object that we must love, 

but as a mystery present in the very act of love itself.” - Peter Rollins

Heaven, Hell and a Disoriented Faith

     Let us imagine we have died and are waiting to stand before the judgement seat of God... Try to imagine how it feels to look over your life - what you are happy about and what you regret... Now imagine being brought into a magnificent room within which there is a great white throne. Upon this throne is a breath-taking being who shines as if full of light...
     After a moment the one who sits on the throne begins to speak: 'My name is Lucifer and I am the angel of light. I have cast your God from his throne and banished Christ to the real of eternal death. It is I who hold the keys to this kingdom. I am the gatekeeper of paradise and it is for me to decide who shall enter and who shall be forsaken.' 
     Now imagine that this angel stretches out his vast arms and says, 'In my right hand I hold eternal life and in my left I hold death. For those who would bow down and acknowledge me as Lord, I shall grant them safe passage into paradise, but for those who refuse I will vanquish to death with their Christ.'
     After this the devil moves his arms so that each of his hands is placed before you and asks, 'What do you choose?'
     It is only as we experience Holy Saturday [the day between Christ's death on Good Friday and resurrection on Easter Sunday] that we can ask whether we would follow Christ regardless of heaven or hell, regardless of pain or pleasure, whether we would follow int he midst of the uncertainty that Holy Saturday brings to our lives. It is only here that we can ask if we have truly offered ourselves to God for no reason other than the desire to offer ourselves as a gift. Faith does not die here, rather it is forged here. 
                                                                            -Peter Rollins, How (Not) To Speak Of God


I picked up one of Peter Rollins' books, The Orthodox Heretic, about six months ago, and read the above story for the first time. Like many of the other tales in the book, it challenged and pushed my faith in an entirely new capacity. I have found myself frequently contemplating what faith truly means, what we are honestly desiring as Christians, what this Christian faith is actually about.

Because too often, it seems to be about what we can get, not what we give. Often the Christian faith gets boiled down to where you will go when you die.

I remember going to a Christian summer camp when I was sixteen. At the time I genuinely enjoyed my time and my faith grew, though I'm sure if I attended it now I would have strong disagreements with the theology preached. It's a beautiful thing that God can use almost anything for our growth. But anyways, the last day of the camp was "evangelism day." I clearly remember awkwardly walking around the college campus with other young teens, pamphlets in hand, the question "Do you know where you're going when you die?" emblazoned in white on the black cover. Approaching random strangers, we asked them this question. Depending upon their response, we would open a different tab of the pamphlet which led them to more questions, further answers, and eventually a place where, if their "faith" was not already "placed in God" they could pray a prayer and do so, thus assuring they would not burn in the fiery pits of hell upon death. I remember not being very fond of that part of the camp, though at the time my reasons for disliking this form of "evangelism" were not yet formed.

That's merely one example of the many, many pamphlets, "evangelism" trainings, and various other plans I have seen and learned about. All are designed to get people to one place: praying the Sinner's Prayer* to earn their get-out-of-hell-free card and can hangout in eternal bliss forever.

But to me, it all misses the true point of faith, which is not to simply avoid the suffering of fiery hell by any means possible. This mentality reduces faith in Christ to something deeply selfish, something that actually has very little to do with God at all.

What if being saved from hell or going to heaven were removed from the equation and faith was simply about knowing Jesus? What if being a Christian was just about Christ? What if serving others had to do with just seeking to look like Christ, rather than good works done in the hopes of earning more jewels in one's crown?


When Christians worry so much about where they'll go after death, the focus of faith is shifted. Like the long, long ago days when people thought the world revolved around the earth, rather than the sun. They thought the earth was the biggest, most important thing in the universe, because it was the most important thing to their understanding of the world. If heaven, eternal paradise, is the most important thing, they miss the point that the sun [Son] is actually the center, and without the glory of that brilliant light, nothing else can exist.

*Note that the "Sinner's Prayer" is not actually in scripture as a means of salvation.

I'm Still a Christian

“You still call yourself a Christian?”

I’d spent the past hour discussing theology, faith, the poor, racism, Ferguson, injustice, the church, and who knows what else, with a fellow follower-of-Jesus-Christ. 

This question wasn’t formed as an accusatory response to something, but an almost confused, slightly surprised, inquiry.

I wasn’t being asked if I was still a Christian because something I had done, said, or believed seemed to contradict the teachings of Jesus. Rather I was being asked if I still chose to identify myself with Christianity, to label myself as a Christian.

This question surprised me. Until that moment I hadn’t really strongly considered not calling myself a Christian, and so until that moment had not really formed a reason for why I still do.

“Christian” today is a loaded term. People more often think of churches with crosses and steeples, rules and street preachers, judgement and passive people, pamphlets and tracts handed out on street corners, and a prayer that supposedly solves all the world’s problems.

Christianity as a religious institution has, like so many other religions, done great harm as well as great good. It has, again like so many other religions, taken teachings and used them to justify incredible evil (the Crusades, slavery, oppression of women, just to name a few).

The term “Christian,” when it was originally used, literally meant follower-of-Christ. It meant living a life that mirrored that of Christ, in such a radical way that the government continually sought to take the Christians out because their radical love and kindness was seen as a threat.

Now that's the kind of Christian I can identify as!

But Christianity, Christians, and the church today are characterized by apathy and passivity. Collecting dust on church pews while the world outside is in desperate need of the unconditional love they claim to possess. If you have received beautiful, priceless, unconditional love and grace...shouldn’t you share it?

Yet somehow, Christianity has become more about “saving souls from fire and damnation,” a religion colored with brimstone and a red horned devil, instead of caring for the oppressed and marginalized, caring for the poor, whether their poverty be physical or spiritual. Somehow Christianity, once marked with compassion and radical love, has become stained with hypocrisy and judgement.

At the end of the book of Matthew, Jesus gives His followers a command, now termed the “Great Commission,” telling them to go into the world and make disciples of all nations, teaching them all Jesus had taught them.

This command was not about getting people to pray some certain prayer* so their lives would magically become wonderful and they could have 100% assurance they’d go to heaven when they died regardless of how the rest of their life looked simply because they had prayed a prayer.

The Great Commission is about living out the teachings of Jesus, which in turn makes disciples, changes our world, and brings about the Kingdom.

It is not about following enough rules to be perfect, not doing x, y, or z your whole life to be the “best Christian” out there. Jesus didn’t talk about following moral codes, but He did talk about loving God first, loving ones neighbor as one loves oneself, and caring for the poor and oppressed.

In Matthew 23, Jesus calls out the pharisees and teachers of the law.

“You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you: ‘These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men.’”

How sad that when I read those verses I immediately think of the church today? Their hearts were far from God because they were so obsessed with rules that were no longer about honoring God but had instead become about making themselves look good. Whitewashed tombs, as Jesus calls the pharisees a few chapters later. Christianity today is a whitewashed tomb, “beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean, appearing to people as righteous but on the inside are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.”

Jesus continues, “You have neglected the more important matters of the law - justice, mercy, and faithfulness.”

Let’s break this down even more, to see what true Christianity is all about.

Micah 6:8, “He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.”

James 1:27, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans in their distress.”

Psalm 82:3-4, “Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless, maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed. Rescue the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”

Christianity is about following Christ. Following Christ is about living as He did. It is about loving Him, and loving others, and defending the poor and oppressed, the marginalized, the widow, the orphan.

Living a life like Christ means living in a way that invites others to participate. It is more about actions than words. It isn’t about beating people with Bibles until they fall on their knees to regurgitate a prayer, it is about hanging out with the homeless over a cup of coffee.

It’s about sitting down to hear someone’s story even if you have different beliefs and really just listening, not trying to hijack the conversation, twist it to your agenda, so you can get to the part where you get to talk about what you believe and why they should too.

How sad is it, that Christian’s actually acting like Christ (remember Ghandi’s quote?), would be so confusing and surprising?

Let’s remember the pharisees had a beef with Jesus for hanging out with “sinners,” tax collectors, and prostitutes.

Now if that’s who Jesus hung with, without judgement and forcing them to change who they were before they knew Him, then that’s who I spend time with. It’s not my job to change someone, to save them from hell, to convince them to live one way or another. As a follower-of-Christ my job is to love and serve, as Christ did. That’s a faith that walks. My faith** walks, my faith doesn’t sit in a church-building trying to be perfect.

And so when you ask me if I still call myself a Christian, I have decided my answer is yes. Not because I align myself with the religion of Christianity, but because I align myself and define myself as a follower of Jesus Christ. And I will continue to call myself a Christian because I know my faith walks, and maybe meeting more Christians who are followers-of-Christ instead of worshipers-of-rules will change what “Christian” means. Maybe calling myself a Christian and then actually acting like a real, Christ-following one can change a few people’s minds about that Jesus guy. Maybe they’ll even follow Him too.




*Note that the infamous “Sinner’s Prayer” is not actually in the Bible.

**My faith is not about a God who loves people based on their skin color, sexuality, or gender. My faith is about a God who died for all people, so all people could be be free.