As a child attending Vacation Bible School, I envisioned disturbing images when we, just a few dozen kids, belted out “Onward Christian Soldiers” before afternoon snacks, which usually meant Kool-Aid and Snickerdoodle cookies. Truth is, singing that song made me uncomfortable because “marching as to war” struck me, even then, as demonstrably anti-Christian, almost barbaric, even if we were doing battle against Satan’s henchmen. I wondered what our enemies looked like, and exactly what would happen once we made it to the battlefield; I mean, would we be injuring folks, or what? Of course, the generals of our army would be Missouri Synod Lutherans, so it followed that some of those whom we had to conquer would be Roman Catholics. Another song I remember from those formative days went something like this: “Good old Marty Luther really made the reformation grand because he tore the Pope to pieces with his five and ninety theses, and that’s why I’m a Lutheran.” No turning the other cheek for us, mind you. I always thought that war was something to avoid, so I wasn’t eager to enlist as a Christian soldier. I concluded then, as now, that Christians were peacemakers, not warriors, and especially not warmongers.
Lately, though, the sharp rise of evangelicals entering the policy-making discussion, commandeering whatever governmental controls they can oversee, has profoundly changed the political climate. A groundswell of Christian conservatives lifted Trump to the highest office in the land, and, as a result, he reconfigured the Supreme Court and other key administrative offices to conform to the requests of the evangelical community that had catapulted Trump to office. Those rightists are even now “marching as to war” as I write these words. They believe our country is defined primarily by its Christian heritage and authority, which, of course, runs contrary to America’s promise of separation of church and state. Isn’t our nation inclusive, the big tent? Isn’t the fabric of our nation spun from different threads, like Joseph’s coat pf many colors, many varying textiles? Lately, though, loud and persistent voices have been heard coming from the right wing of our political theater, especially from the latter-day Christian soldiers.
One of these voices comes from a banner carrier for the Christian nationalists, pastor Greg Locke of the Global Vision Bible Church in Mount Juliet, Tennessee, who recently declared that Oprah Winfrey and Tom Hanks are involved in sex trafficking, Joe Biden is possessed by the devil, and the Pope is "…the biggest pedophile on the planet…." Wow, I guess I haven’t been keeping up. I heard these revelations online directly from the reverend’s mouth, and I ventured to look deeper into Locke’s ministry. Imagine my astonishment when I discovered that he burns books he does not like and claims the insurrection on January 6th (which he attended) was instigated by non-Trump supporters. Is preacher Greg a contemporary Nostradamus, or what? How does he know this stuff? He goes on. For instance, he believes that the COVID pandemic is a hox and that he is a true prophet, not to mention that Trump is still president and God will soon “bring the whole house down,” meaning, I suppose, the destruction of socialists and progressives infesting Washington D.C. His views may sound fanatical and unhinged, assigned to a collection of conspiracy theorists, but they represent, at least in part, the beliefs of a considerable segment of conservative citizens, many of whom I categorize as Christian nationalists, a name they rarely use to identify themselves.
That brings me to the point: Christian nationalists are neither Christian nor patriotic. Sure, they claim to be both, but Christians are routinely taught to love others, not to spew hatred and discord, and patriots would never assault the chambers of democracy and then blame the attack on other radicals. Christian nationalists are largely conservative white (middle or working class) folks who want to see our nation establish a Christian hegemony, lines no longer muddled between church and state. They may or may not be white supremacists, but their agenda includes an America mirroring a fast-disappearing American white culture. They want a Norman Rockwell America. They want a hypothetical America that truly never existed except in John Wayne’s movies and Miss America contests. They visualize Ward and June Cleaver’s prototypical hometown life—she pours the milk at dinner, and he gives moral instruction to one or both naughty boys after dessert. It’s Mayfield or Mayberry in Middle America, circa 1950’s now and forever. It’s a small-town-and-old-values place with a Main Street and a VFW. It’s a decent place but largely monochromatic. It takes a long while before outsiders are accepted as part of the community. People of color live on the other side of the tracks and are rarely, if ever, mentioned.
If you will, picture the CN cover girl, the embodiment of a Christian nationalist: blonde (of course), a sidearm hip-holstered, wooden cross dangling from her neck, a red MAGA baseball cap atop her groomed head, and a liturgical stole dangling from her shoulders. Behind her, a sea of American flags interspersed among outsized crucifixes. All-American, all-Christian, the symbol of what America should become.
Forgive me for judging, but haven’t the holier-than-thou nationalists read the Sermon on the Mount? Haven’t they studied the Bill of Rights? Haven’t they become what they loathe?
Guess so.