Category: Neighbor Love

Karen Swallow Prior presents a critical analysis of Christian nationalism, particularly as defined by Andrew L. Whitehead and Samuel L. Perry in Taking America Back for God: Christian Nationalism in the United States. According to Whitehead and Perry, Christian nationalism is a cultural framework that merges Christianity with American civic life, encompassing myths, traditions, symbols, narratives, and value systems. This ideology often intertwines ethnic, political, and religious elements, advocating for a divinely sanctioned authoritarianism and militarism. The article argues that idealizing a past or future can detach individuals from reality and humanity, leading to dangerous outcomes. 

The critique extends to the trend of Christian nationalist fantasies, characterized by simplistic and nostalgic art and literature. These creations, such as paintings depicting Jesus alongside political figures or idealized, unchanging cathedrals, offer a distorted view of real life and faith. The article suggests that these fantasies promote a superficial and sanitized vision that neglects the complexities and diversity of a democratic society. This trend, Swallow Prior contends, fails to address the genuine challenges of coexistence and the need for a more inclusive and just community. 

Swallow Prior also draws on historical examples to illustrate the dangers of conflating religious ideals with governance. Figures like Jonathan Swift and John Bunyan are highlighted for their contributions to understanding the pitfalls of nationalism, racism, and the lack of religious liberty. Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels and Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress underscore the importance of maintaining a separation between church and state to ensure true religious freedom and human dignity. The analysis concludes that fostering imaginations that engage with reality and promote genuine dialogue and understanding across differences is essential for navigating life in a diverse democracy. 

In this episode of Zealots at the Gate, Matt Kaemingk and Shadi Hamid explore a series of political questions in the context of major so-called “fundamentalist” and “dogmatic” traditions such as Islam and Christianity: 

How might we begin to doubt ourselves again?

How might we take ourselves and our political ideas less seriously?  

In a magazine interview last year, the staff writer asked why I saw neighbor love as (quoting me) “a radical witness to the Gospel in our world today.” Before I could reply, the interviewer unintentionally answered the question herself: “…Because you just don’t see a lot of love in the world today…and Christians have been some of the most hateful people in our society.”

In a Princeton Seminary course with Elaine James on sex and gender in the Old Testament, the thesis of the semester brought into question what biblical passages we center in our hermeneutics and Christian practice. James questioned what might change if, rather than utilizing Genesis 3 as the primary lens for understanding sex and gender, we used the Song of Songs?

From this course, I began to think about this “centering” project beyond this course. I think James’ observation holds incredible explanatory power for understanding differences within the church.

I admit I am skeptical when anyone posits a “biblical” view of a certain topic. This is because interpreters who make this claim often fail to recognize their own particular social location from which they interpret and the contextual nature of the text.

We have seen this time after time—it is how slaveholders could use the Bible to support their claim to own another human being, it is how colonizers carried the bible in one and the sword in the other, how the Religious Right turned the Cold War into a spiritual battle, how conservative Christians today frame the overturning of Roe v. Wade into a moral absolute…the list goes on and on.

Our “biblical” view of X topic always centers particular passages.

In the midst of a perceived secularization and liberalization of society, many Christians today have centered passages of God’s wrath and judgment and have adopted an apocalyptic framework to justify a “by any means necessary” activism. While my co-religionists are free to do so, what I find problematic is the way they do their hermeneutical work “under the table.” Hiding behind a hermeneutic method that claims to be rid of bias and presupposition, these Christians often posit a clear, definitive, and univocal interpretation of the text.

In my reading of Scripture, however, I (at least genuinely attempt) to do my hermeneutical work above the table. This is, in part, why I have a column in Sojourners and write this newsletter at least once a week. I aim to be honest and open about the passages I center in my Christian practice and the experiences that inform my hermeneutics.

While my writing cannot be completely incoherent or inconclusive, you will always find a work in progress — an active navigating, reading, interpreting, and questioning. You will rarely find a “biblical view” of a certain topic in my writing. Instead, you’ll read of stories and experiences that emphasize the lived, nuanced reality of our common life. I refuse to hide this.

This, in itself, is an attempt at neighbor love.

My reader, both friend and critic, is a neighbor to be loved. While I am far from perfect, my genuine desire is always to invite, not marginalize—to love, not hate.

For those who may disagree with my conclusions, I hope you do not find yourself belittled or excluded but instead find an opportunity to see how I arrive at conclusions different from your own.

For those who agree with my conclusions, I hope that this neighbor-love-rooted method can offer new insights and perhaps even illuminate pieces of your own story.