The Synagogue Shooter

At Living Hope’s leadership meeting last Sunday security was the dominant topic. The day before, John Earnest, 19, had assaulted a San Diego synagogue, killing 60-year-old Lori Kaye and wounding 3 others, including a young girl. A week prior, bombers killed Christian worshipers in Sri Lanka. A month ago, Muslims were massacred in Christchurch, New Zealand. Six months ago, 11 worshipers were killed at a synagogue in Pittsburgh, PA.

Our church, like many others, has been preparing for this kind of incident for years. In every meeting, it is a shock to contemplate what murder would look like in our building.

John Earnest, however, raises an additional problem for evangelical pastors. He was raised in an Orthodox Presbyterian church. In eighteen months, he rejected his evangelical faith, and radicalized himself to such a degree that he tried to burn down a mosque in March, and began planning his assault on the synagogue.

Terrorists are not “them” anymore. The lone gunman may be hanging around evangelical churches. Self-radicalization is now so unpredictable that law enforcement is struggling keep up. And California, in a fact that belies its self-image, leads the nation in the number of organized hate groups that encourage him. Evangelicals, like many other subcultures, are stirring their political opinions into a cocktail of racial ideologies.

A few months ago, I got a message from a man who has been in and out of our congregation. It was a chain email (“Do you have the guts to forward this?”) protesting black pride. White pride is not racism, it said, and whites have been too ashamed to stand up for themselves. “That’s why we have LOST most of OUR RIGHTS in this country [caps original].”

The narrative in the man’s email plays right into the theology that Earnest espoused in his manifesto. Kinism, which Earnest wished he had been taught by his church, claims that God created ethnic groups, and that ethnicities must remain pure. Ethnic pride is his new religion. Lots of people are ready to convert to this sort of piety and to use fake-intellectual jargon to label people who disagree with them, terms like “cultural Marxism.” (Joe Carter’s post is essential reading on these issues.)

The man who messaged me had been subjected to the most powerful accelerator of racial hostility in our nation: the prison system. Some of our men have described to me the pressure to conform to racial identity in prison. “It’s how you survive,” said one. California’s incarceration rate may have more to do with its high number of hate groups than anyone wants to admit.

I don’t mean to suggest that this man will become the next shooter, or that his chain email is at the same moral level as Earnest’s manifesto. But if he wants to feed his racial grievances, he will have plenty of help.

Further, converts to the religion of race just as easily come from the upper middle-class. Constricted sources of information—approved cable news and YouTube channels—are enabling people of every demographic to live in their own heads.

Many evangelical pastors find it hard to imagine that racism might be strengthening among professing Christians. Many others are tired of their social and political views being equated unjustly with racism—enough to have stopped listening to the alarms going off around us. But we have to engage far more deeply on matters of race and theology.

John Earnest will not be the last terrorist to have dropped out of an evangelical church.

The Conflicted 500th Year

October will mark the fifth century since Martin Luther started a debate about the pope’s authority. Luther split Europe by questioning Rome’s power over a person’s spiritual life, control of information, and misuse of money. Limiting Rome’s authority helped remove the institution from the relationship between the individual and Jesus Christ.

Yet as I observe this anniversary, several ironies intrude.

American evangelicals often miss how similar our current situation is to Rome’s then. Like Rome, evangelicals have well-funded lobbyists with political agendas. We also have hucksters like Rome’s, but instead of selling early release from purgatory ours sell prayer-cloths, “healings,” and positive thinking.

The most striking parallel between Luther’s day and ours is skepticism. Rome, marinated in privilege, had lost credibility with the average European, and assumed that the loss didn’t matter. But the skepticism of commoners was powerful.

Today the average American rejects evangelicals’ consumeristic attempts to make spiritual life easy, and their obsession with creating a parallel pop culture where they won’t be offended. Many think evangelicals’ public smile is hiding greed and bigotry. Fair or unfair, this is the skepticism evangelicals face.

The loss of credibility is stark. Too many people have gone forward to “get saved” at mass meetings — only to be abandoned when the hard spiritual work started. Too many have trusted “faith healers” to restore their health, authoritarians to shape their conscience, or politicians to save their culture. And too many, when the gimmicks fail, have been told that it was their own fault.

500 years after Luther, we need another reformation. There are questions we can’t duck. Should pastors “prophesy” that Donald Trump is God’s choice? Are 20-minute TED talk imitations on Sundays really opening the Bible — or obscuring it? Is it right to sell “training” on how to control the Holy Spirit? With practices like these, institutional pragmatism has overwhelmed biblical principle.

Many pastors in our region are grieved by our decline from the Reformation. We are determined to recover that heritage. We are willing to debate these questions candidly. Our goal should be to reset the Bible’s boundaries around the institutional interests of churches, and return to the core of evangelical teaching: the direct relationship between the individual and Christ.