The President, the Bible, and the Theology of the Photo
What to make of the President’s efforts last week to have his picture taken holding a Bible in his raised right hand in front of St. John’s Episcopal Church?
It was a planned and orchestrated event. But why? The President said nothing. There was just the picture: the President, the Bible, and the Church in the background.
Most of the comments have been directed at the use of federal police in riot gear firing gas canisters and rubber pellets to clear the area so the President and some of his top military and law enforcement officials could walk through Lafayette Square to the Church for the photo.
But the symbolism of the nation’s leader holding aloft a Bible after using force to impose his will should not be overlooked.
Throughout history politics and religion have been intertwined. Religious leaders have enlisted the power of government to enforce belief and combat heresy. Political leaders have used religion to cloak themselves and their actions with divine blessing and authority. The combining of the two fomented holy wars, crusades, inquisitions, persecutions, martyrdoms, forced conversions and burnings at the stake.
The writers and adopters of our constitution wanted none of that. Church and state were to be separated.
The President, however, has identified himself with nationalistic evangelicals and they in turn have embraced him. He needs their votes. They in turn see him as the leader sent by God to return the nation to righteousness.
He raises the religious sword, calling his political opponents “nonbelievers”. His statements are clear. “Together we’re not only defending our constitutional rights. We’re also defending religion itself.” “God is on our side.”
A recent fundraising mailing from the Faith and Freedom Coalition headed by Ralph Reed, an evangelical leader, preaches the same belief. The Democratic Party and the “Left” are “vicious and unhinged … anti-Christian, anti-freedom, anti-America … anti-God, anti-family,” who want to “eliminate Christianity as a moral force.”
The theology that wraps together leader, nation and God, the theology behind the photo, is rooted in the Old Testament stories of the special relationship between the Israelites (the Chosen People) and Yahweh. They are People of the Covenant, a Covenant that promised prosperity and power (“I will make of you a great nation.”) if the commands of Yahweh are obeyed.
The Old Testament chronicle is one of ups and downs. When the people obeyed Yahweh, the nation prospered and became strong. When they disobeyed and worshiped other gods, they were carried into exile. When things were bad Yahweh sent his prophet to “anoint” the person who would be the next king and lead the nation back to favor.
There was also the instruction to cleanse the land of unbelievers. The prophet Samuel tells the king, “Thus sayeth the Lord of hosts … Now go and smite Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not …”
Yahweh’s special relationship was not with individual Israelites but with Israel as a nation.
Innocence and guilt, reward and punishment, were corporate. The community was held responsible for eliminating the sin (and if necessary, the sinner) in its midst. The community was punished if the sin remained.
The church tradition I grew up in incorporated elements of this story into a new covenant. Christians are the Chosen People. America is the Promised Land. When we follow God’s precepts, we will be strong and prosper. When we sin we will fall. Echoes are heard in the sermons that characterize natural catastrophes as evidence of God’s punishment of the sin prevalent among us.
In identifying with the Old Testament narratives, nationalistic evangelicals see themselves as chosen by God to rid the nation of evil. The metaphors invoke the symbols of ancient holy conflict. Consider recent accolades of the President reported in the New York Times, “A modern-day Queen Esther sent by God …” “The man for this hour in the history for our nation.” “The chosen one.” While the “Prayer Warriors”, organized by the White House, pray that those opposing the President be “exposed and dealt with and overturned by the superior blood of Jesus.”
Earlier in the day, before ordering the helicopters and federal law enforcement into the nation’s capital, the President told the governors, “You got to have total domination, and then you have to put them in jail.”
I remember in my youth singing lustily along with congregation, “Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before …”
Coexistence is not possible if faith requires cleansing the nation of those who do not believe. Community is not possible if we separate ourselves as the Apostle Paul admonishes, “What fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? What communion hath light with darkness? … or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel? … Wherefor come out from among them and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you…”
The theology of the Gospel story is quite different. It is acted out by Jesus, the son of a carpenter who comes from the lower levels of a community that has long been dominated by a foreign power. He mingles with common folk and the stories he tells are stories about widows, fishermen, farmers, prodigal sons and good Samaritans.
The narrative of the nation and its special relationship to God, so central to the Old Testament, is absent. Jesus’ focus is always on individuals and their relationship to God and their neighbors. God the Father is personal. Jesus calls on those who come to him to change their own ways. Some of his harshest words are directed at religious leaders who impose strict rules of practice on others.
Instead of the admonition to cleanse the land, Jesus preached, “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them who hate you, and pray for them which … persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh the sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust.”
One of the complaints that the religious leaders of the day lodged against Jesus was, “This man receiveth sinners and eateth with them.” That personal connection is the first step to community.
Humans are individuals. Diversity is a fact. Efforts to regiment and eliminate diversity eventually result in conflict, bloodshed, forced conversions, burnings at the stake. The purpose of politics (although often subverted) is to create community amidst our diversity.
Faith can be supportive of that end. There is much similarity between the religious imperatives to do unto others, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, emulate the good Samaritan, love your enemies, and the political goals of creating community, maintaining harmony, achieving equality, promoting prosperity and allowing individuals to pursue their own happiness.
But faith and politics also have dark sides. The cross and the sword have often joined. The President, the Bible and the Church was not just a photo op.
Douglas Kane is the author of "Our Politics: Reflections on Political Life" published in 2019 by Southern Illinois University Press
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