Among the new information Americans are having to process as they get to know Sarah Palin is that she is a Pentecostal. This, understandably, strikes fear into the heart of many a secularist and sends a nervous shudder up the spine of even her fellow Christians. Pentecostals are, after all, Holy Rollers, pew jumpers, empty headed followers of crafty Elmer Gantry’s and the surest evidence that religious excess survives in the modern world. This, of course, is the unflattering image most Americans have come to believe.
In fact, Pentecostalism has grown up while the world took little notice. Begun as a reaction to the modernism of the early 1900’s, Pentecostalism was revivalistic, retreatist and often legalistic. Women took care to show no ankle or wrist and children were threatened with hell if they so much as attended a Saturday afternoon matinee. Pentecostals exacted a high price for holiness. In time, though, they matured. Much of this was due to the leadership of Oral Roberts, who defied the Pentecostal fear of film by using movies to evangelize, defied the Pentecostal fear of education by starting a university, and defied the Pentecostal fear of other Christian denominations by calling all who believed in Jesus to swim in the waters of spiritual renewal. His ministry and university became a font of refreshing for religious movements as diverse as Charismatic Catholics, Renewal Episcopalians and the reactionary, hesitant Pentecostals of Roberts’ religious roots.
The Assembly of God denomination also matured during these years and became one of the great surviving movements of the Pentecostal era. Sarah Palin’s experience provides a prism for the neo-Pentecostal experience. Her family attended their beloved A.O.G. church and drew from its deep well of biblical teaching, passion to know God, and eagerness to lovingly change the world. Sarah would have known believers of a deeply mystical cast, those who spoke in tongues while praying and energetic worshippers who occasionally shouted their praise in church. There was an emphasis on sacrificial generosity, on Christian fellowship across economic and ethnic lines and, of course, on missionary outreach. Indeed, the event at which Palin spoke the words about God’s will in Iraq which have become so controversial was in fact a commissioning service for youth soon to be sent abroad. And it was this sense of social obligation that moved a young Sarah Palin to political service. This was far removed from Pentecostalism’s retreatist roots but very much in tune with the new brand of socially relevant Pentecostalism which has become the norm today.
Among the four candidates for executive office the nation is now considering, only two are versed in the street level religious experiences many Americans know. John McCain lived in a high-church, military brand of Episcopalianism most of his life. Joe Biden attended exclusive Catholic schools and has long been a lover of the rituals and liturgies that arise from his historic faith. But Obama and Palin have both sat in churches where poor and rich worshipped alike, where religious passions spilled out in sometimes uncouth ways and in which the call of Jesus to serve the hurting took practical form. We should be glad that this is so. It has made Obama the compassionate soul he has become. And Palin’s Pentecostalism has given her the common touch while also tethering her life and her politics to a sense of moral obligation to God. This should be a cause not of suspicion but of gratitude. American’s should honor Palin’s faith not only for the good it has done her but for the symbol she is of Pentecostalism stepping afresh on the global stage.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
In Search of the Great Soul
The verdict is in and Sarah Palin did well. Though a single speech does not a vice-president make, she brought the full force of her political life and intellect, not to mention her photogenic family, to bear on this the first of her defining moments before the national gaze.
She did well. And so did Giuliani. And Thompson and Lieberman the night before. In fact, Obama did well himself, and Biden, though less smooth, kept his end of the bargain too. All held our attention. All positioned themselves or their candidate as patriots fit for our moment in time. All took the strategic swipe at the other side. All sent the faithful away assured that truth lives on.
Yet, as we near the last night of the last convention, I find myself yearning not just for greater speech craft but for speeches by larger souls. I find myself longing for the poetry that surfaces in the life of passionate patriots, the love of fellow man and country that animates great leadership, and the tethering of all of this to a faith that elevates beyond the merely human. I’m not looking for a flutter in my heart and a mist in my eyes. I’m looking for a speech that is more principle than procedure from someone who is more statesman than symbol in words fashioned for mobilizing and not just marketing. In other words, I want to be assured that a great soul, tempered by grief but touched by compassion, is about to take the helm of the ship of state.
I don’t think I ask too much. I’ve been re-reading Ronald Reagan’s 1980 acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention in Detroit. You should read it. Reagan spoke of the destiny of America and her genius for leadership. He led his listeners on a tour of American history that began with the landing of the Mayflower in 1620 and continued to the present. He trashed Jimmy Carter’s scolding ways, called for a new economic model and then explained that the need for a strong America was not for Americans alone, but for the world—for our European allies and for boat people from Cuba. America, he told us, has a rendezvous with destiny.
Then, questioning whether we can “doubt that only a Divine Providence placed this land, this island of freedom, here as a refuge for all those people in the world who yearn to breathe freely,” Reagan haltingly said, “I confess that I‘ve been a little afraid to suggest what I’m going to suggest—I’m more afraid not to—that we begin our crusade joined together in a moment of silent prayer. God bless America.” And so it began.
I hold this up against the speeches we’ve heard and the souls we’ve had on parade in recent weeks. There is something missing. Or perhaps it is merely held in reserve, perhaps even unwittingly. Sarah Palin is a fine leader who will likely serve our country well. Oddly, though, there was no mention of faith in her speech last night, and this despite the fact that she is a strong Christian, a Pentecostal, in fact, who if elected will be the first Pentecostal to serve as vice-president. No mention of faith? No nod to God’s goodness in our history? No Reaganesque statement of reliance on providence to achieve our lofty goals? Hmm.
I found the same in Obama’s speech. At a Democratic Convention that was the most faith encased in history, Obama made none of the affirmations of faith for which he has become known. Nor did Biden, the devoted Catholic. Nor did other speakers for whom faith is native language.
Look, I have a church and I can read poetry for myself. I’m not looking for politicians to move me because I need the kind of motivational fix I get from watching Hoosiers or Rudy. But I will continue to insist that we elevate leaders who are more than just squabbling children in expensive suits. We need statesmanship. We need the artillery of words. We need souls so acquainted with suffering and grace that they can summon the soul of a nation.
Sarah Palin can probably do this. Her handlers should let her. McCain never has but he could if he leans to that greater side of himself. But whether they can do it or not, this is the quality of leadership for which we should pray and to which we should pledge our service.
She did well. And so did Giuliani. And Thompson and Lieberman the night before. In fact, Obama did well himself, and Biden, though less smooth, kept his end of the bargain too. All held our attention. All positioned themselves or their candidate as patriots fit for our moment in time. All took the strategic swipe at the other side. All sent the faithful away assured that truth lives on.
Yet, as we near the last night of the last convention, I find myself yearning not just for greater speech craft but for speeches by larger souls. I find myself longing for the poetry that surfaces in the life of passionate patriots, the love of fellow man and country that animates great leadership, and the tethering of all of this to a faith that elevates beyond the merely human. I’m not looking for a flutter in my heart and a mist in my eyes. I’m looking for a speech that is more principle than procedure from someone who is more statesman than symbol in words fashioned for mobilizing and not just marketing. In other words, I want to be assured that a great soul, tempered by grief but touched by compassion, is about to take the helm of the ship of state.
I don’t think I ask too much. I’ve been re-reading Ronald Reagan’s 1980 acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention in Detroit. You should read it. Reagan spoke of the destiny of America and her genius for leadership. He led his listeners on a tour of American history that began with the landing of the Mayflower in 1620 and continued to the present. He trashed Jimmy Carter’s scolding ways, called for a new economic model and then explained that the need for a strong America was not for Americans alone, but for the world—for our European allies and for boat people from Cuba. America, he told us, has a rendezvous with destiny.
Then, questioning whether we can “doubt that only a Divine Providence placed this land, this island of freedom, here as a refuge for all those people in the world who yearn to breathe freely,” Reagan haltingly said, “I confess that I‘ve been a little afraid to suggest what I’m going to suggest—I’m more afraid not to—that we begin our crusade joined together in a moment of silent prayer. God bless America.” And so it began.
I hold this up against the speeches we’ve heard and the souls we’ve had on parade in recent weeks. There is something missing. Or perhaps it is merely held in reserve, perhaps even unwittingly. Sarah Palin is a fine leader who will likely serve our country well. Oddly, though, there was no mention of faith in her speech last night, and this despite the fact that she is a strong Christian, a Pentecostal, in fact, who if elected will be the first Pentecostal to serve as vice-president. No mention of faith? No nod to God’s goodness in our history? No Reaganesque statement of reliance on providence to achieve our lofty goals? Hmm.
I found the same in Obama’s speech. At a Democratic Convention that was the most faith encased in history, Obama made none of the affirmations of faith for which he has become known. Nor did Biden, the devoted Catholic. Nor did other speakers for whom faith is native language.
Look, I have a church and I can read poetry for myself. I’m not looking for politicians to move me because I need the kind of motivational fix I get from watching Hoosiers or Rudy. But I will continue to insist that we elevate leaders who are more than just squabbling children in expensive suits. We need statesmanship. We need the artillery of words. We need souls so acquainted with suffering and grace that they can summon the soul of a nation.
Sarah Palin can probably do this. Her handlers should let her. McCain never has but he could if he leans to that greater side of himself. But whether they can do it or not, this is the quality of leadership for which we should pray and to which we should pledge our service.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Keeping Prophetic Distance
When I was in graduate school, I remember a professor of biblical studies speaking at length about something called “prophetic distance.” He was referring to the loving distance from society that a speaker of truth had to maintain to be effective. I remember he said that you cannot speak powerfully and objectively to a man if you desperately need something from him. You will bend your message to please him in order to obtain whatever you need from him—praise, money, acceptance, or access for example. To speak truth, particularly the truth of God, you must maintain prophetic distance. It is the price of the calling, the way you position yourself apart from society so you can speak effectively to society.
I’ve been thinking about this a great deal this week as I ponder the reaction to McCain’s appointment of Sarah Palin.
As I have said here before, I like Governor Palin very much. She is the kind of smart, hard-hitting but principled woman I admire and largely because my wife—who is very much of the same tribe—has taught me what a gift this kind of woman can be. I think Gov. Palin, in time, will be just such a gift to America.
Yet what concerns me is not Sarah Palin but the quickness with which evangelicals newly embraced John McCain once she joined the ticket. As readers of this blog know, I consider abortion to be the seminal issue in this election. An abortion is the taking of a human life. However open I might be to varying approaches to the war, health care, immigration or social justice, I cannot be flexible on the issue of abortion. And this is what concerns me about John McCain and the evangelical rush to embrace him following the appointment of Sarah Palin. McCain says he is pro-life and that his will be a pro-life presidency. Yet until just hours before appointing Palin, McCain strongly preferred either Lieberman or Ridge as his running mate, both men strongly pro-abortion. What does this say about McCain’s commitment to pro-life policies and does the presence of Sarah Palin ameliorate these concerns? Could it be that Mr. McCain intended to buy off the pro-life right with the Palin appointment without seriously intending a pro-life presidency?
While working on my recent book, I had the opportunity to interview Jim Wallis of Sojourners. In the course of a rich interview, I asked Jim if he planned to endorse a candidate. He replied that he did not endorse candidates, he asked candidates to endorse him, or, more precisely, his social justice movement and the values upon which it is built. In other words, Wallis did not go fawning after political candidates, surrendering his soul in search of political power. He remained himself, confident and somewhat apart, and welcomed those in power to stand with him in his noble cause.
This is what my professor meant by “prophetic distance” and this is what I want to urge among my pro-life friends in both parties—and yes, my fellow conservatives, there are numerous pro-life Democrats. Don’t be fobbed off by symbols and showmanship. Don’t accept the empty gesture, the artifice of stagecraft. Hold on to the truth you believe and make your case and don’t stop making your case until the cause of the unborn is declared and won. Too often people of faith have been bought off with symbolic baubles rather than substantive action by our elected leaders. This is because we have too frequently sold our birthright for a bit of porridge—or a steak with the powerful at Morton’s.
I hope that Mr. McCain’s appointment of Sarah Palin is more than a show for the benefit of his pro-life base. This, we cannot control. What we can do is continue to speak truth to power and refuse to be satisfied with anything less than an administration that speaks in defense of the unborn. This is what John McCain has promised and we are right to hold him to it.
I’ll close this thought with the words of acclaimed Christian author Bennan Manning, who has called us to prophetic distance using different terms: “Uncritical acceptance of any party line is an idolatrous abdication of one's core identity as Abba's child. Neither liberal fairy dust nor conservative hardball addresses human dignity, which is often dressed in rags. Abba's children find a third option. They are guided by God's Word and by it alone. All religious and political systems, Right and Left alike, are the work of human beings. Abba's children will not sell their birthright for any mess of pottage, conservative or liberal. They hold fast to their freedom in Christ to live the gospel—uncontaminated by cultural dreck, political flotsam, and the filigreed hypocrisies of bullying religion.”
I’ve been thinking about this a great deal this week as I ponder the reaction to McCain’s appointment of Sarah Palin.
As I have said here before, I like Governor Palin very much. She is the kind of smart, hard-hitting but principled woman I admire and largely because my wife—who is very much of the same tribe—has taught me what a gift this kind of woman can be. I think Gov. Palin, in time, will be just such a gift to America.
Yet what concerns me is not Sarah Palin but the quickness with which evangelicals newly embraced John McCain once she joined the ticket. As readers of this blog know, I consider abortion to be the seminal issue in this election. An abortion is the taking of a human life. However open I might be to varying approaches to the war, health care, immigration or social justice, I cannot be flexible on the issue of abortion. And this is what concerns me about John McCain and the evangelical rush to embrace him following the appointment of Sarah Palin. McCain says he is pro-life and that his will be a pro-life presidency. Yet until just hours before appointing Palin, McCain strongly preferred either Lieberman or Ridge as his running mate, both men strongly pro-abortion. What does this say about McCain’s commitment to pro-life policies and does the presence of Sarah Palin ameliorate these concerns? Could it be that Mr. McCain intended to buy off the pro-life right with the Palin appointment without seriously intending a pro-life presidency?
While working on my recent book, I had the opportunity to interview Jim Wallis of Sojourners. In the course of a rich interview, I asked Jim if he planned to endorse a candidate. He replied that he did not endorse candidates, he asked candidates to endorse him, or, more precisely, his social justice movement and the values upon which it is built. In other words, Wallis did not go fawning after political candidates, surrendering his soul in search of political power. He remained himself, confident and somewhat apart, and welcomed those in power to stand with him in his noble cause.
This is what my professor meant by “prophetic distance” and this is what I want to urge among my pro-life friends in both parties—and yes, my fellow conservatives, there are numerous pro-life Democrats. Don’t be fobbed off by symbols and showmanship. Don’t accept the empty gesture, the artifice of stagecraft. Hold on to the truth you believe and make your case and don’t stop making your case until the cause of the unborn is declared and won. Too often people of faith have been bought off with symbolic baubles rather than substantive action by our elected leaders. This is because we have too frequently sold our birthright for a bit of porridge—or a steak with the powerful at Morton’s.
I hope that Mr. McCain’s appointment of Sarah Palin is more than a show for the benefit of his pro-life base. This, we cannot control. What we can do is continue to speak truth to power and refuse to be satisfied with anything less than an administration that speaks in defense of the unborn. This is what John McCain has promised and we are right to hold him to it.
I’ll close this thought with the words of acclaimed Christian author Bennan Manning, who has called us to prophetic distance using different terms: “Uncritical acceptance of any party line is an idolatrous abdication of one's core identity as Abba's child. Neither liberal fairy dust nor conservative hardball addresses human dignity, which is often dressed in rags. Abba's children find a third option. They are guided by God's Word and by it alone. All religious and political systems, Right and Left alike, are the work of human beings. Abba's children will not sell their birthright for any mess of pottage, conservative or liberal. They hold fast to their freedom in Christ to live the gospel—uncontaminated by cultural dreck, political flotsam, and the filigreed hypocrisies of bullying religion.”
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