Conservative Evangelicals are not the last faithful remnant of Christ’s Church standing firm for the Gospel in a Godless world that they claim to be—they are actively, violently, and almost single handedly triggering the exodus.
I hate that because of our national moral sickness, my daughter and her classmates, my son and his, and millions of children like them need to carry, the massive burden of protecting themselves against active shooters and inactive politicians.
Sometimes, the sickening reminder of how close we are here to losing our elemental freedoms may abruptly intrude on my day. And I know that I’m not alone.
The United States is currently at the precipice of theocracy at the hands of a small and powerful minority of professed followers of Jesus—and it would have made him sick to his stomach.
Republican leadership across this country is declaring open war on diversity, on education, on the legitimacy of our elections. Our checks and balances have been compromised—and Democrats are warring with one another.
I’m never uneasy about Muslims or undocumented people or migrant families passing me on the street. No, it’s pissed-off, entitled, gun-toting, professed Christian white bigots emboldened by our former President who terrify me.
Despite he and his party’s relentless efforts, Donald Trump could not quite successfully manage a bloodless or bloody coup in the wake of the 2020 Presidential election, but it turns out he didn’t need to.
Marches are awe-inspiring, goosebump-inducing, breathtakingly cathartic moments. But marches don’t vote. We need to march all the way to November, all the way to the polls—and for all our lives.