A Time to Step Out and Speak Out

So much for my once-in-a-lifetime political post from before the election. Although I foresee this post being less about politics and more about the depths and boundaries in my content mediums, whether that’s blogs, podcasts, videos, or even tweets and Facebook postings.

All the same, I also can’t see myself escaping these next thousand words without some political stabs that will no doubt jab at certain readers.

As a conflict-avoidant person, I’ve always had this general rule of thumb: stay away from politics when talking with other humans — online or offline. Just stay away.

But something’s changed in the last year. A tension not previously felt now rages in me, building over the span of Trump’s presidency.

I’ve often been left wondering: at what point do I step out and speak out . . . and at what point do I just throw up my hands and take a deep breath and let it be, and pray, and pray?

It’s hard to sit down for my weekly blog and ignore last week’s events at the Capitol. The insanity that erupted and has been swirling in America, within Christianity since Donald Trump descended down that escalator six years ago.

It’s all I’ve been thinking about this week, and again I feel the tension. Bubbling tension that must be released.

The cross and “Jesus Saves” sign amid Trump’s Capitol mob — I can’t ever erase those images from my mind. Never in my life have I seen the tragedy in Matthew 7:21 (ESV) more than I do now:

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.”

And listen, I’m an awful person. I sin daily. I need Jesus every day, every hour, every minute. I’m not any “better” than my brothers and sisters at the Capitol rally-turned-riot-turned-terrorism. I fail my God often, and I want to stay vigilant about my sin. Recognizing it, confessing it.

I can’t help wondering if these people even recognize the awfulness of their actions. Can they see even a glimpse, or are they that blind? How can any one person — let alone hundreds, thousands, millions? — not see the evil they’re perpetuating?

Not that every Trump rally-goer is a believer in Jesus. But I imagine many would say they are. And so I’m left with all these boulders of questions.

Beyond that harrowing “Lord, Lord” scripture, I also never used to understand the real-world biblical concept of “antichrist.” That creepy Russian guy from Left Behind was certainly creepy, but he also felt a tad outlandish.

Like, who could possibly be that slick and charming to convince the masses of well-established falsehoods, tying his leadership to Christianity, to boot?

And then this president happened. From a border wall that Mexico was never going to pay for, to an election rigged against him. For half a decade now, I’ve been unable to fathom how people — fellow believers in Jesus — could be so suckered.

I realize not everyone at this president’s rally was there to partake in terrorism. Certainly not everyone who voted for the guy supports the evil that happened last week. The government property destruction, the deaths — human lives lost within a few hours of tragic idiocy.

I often hear, “I don’t like him, but I like his policies more than the other party’s.”

And I kinda used to get it: conservative economic policies, conservative social policies, etc.

As long as conservative stuff gets done, who cares how it came about? Who cares about the messenger as long as we have the conservative message?

But that line just doesn’t cut it for me anymore. Not for a guy who decidedly deceives, needs his ego fueled like a morphine drip, even riles up a crowd over something he knows to be false. Because he can. Because he clearly enjoys it.

When I think of Jesus, my first image is of His kneeling to wash Peter’s feet. It’s the epitome of “servant-leadership” — otherwise known as leadership. To lead is to serve. To lead is to be humble. To lead is to remove yourself from your ego.

I’ll just leave it at that.

For years upon years, I divorced politics from my content. How is who I vote for part of my “brand” when I’ve made my brand about faith, sexuality, masculinity, and traveling?

But I couldn’t reconcile staying silent last year. Sometimes silence is wise. But also sometimes, silence is weak. Silence is cowardly; silence is complicity.

And so last August’s “Break the Silent Madness” blog came from this place of escalating tension: a Jesus-follower raised in a southern white Christian only-ever-vote-Republican environment, no longer upholding my southern white Christian only-ever-vote-Republican inclinations.

I feel the tension as a Jesus-follower at large, but it boils over into my online persona, my platform. I write stuff. I record stuff. I tweet stuff. I lead an online Christian ministry.

To some extent, I don’t need to comment on every little (or gigantic) thing happening in the world.

But to another extent, I kinda do. I kinda can’t stay silent on certain things. I can’t let fellow believers — or people who don’t follow Jesus — assume I believe something that I passionately do not.

I can’t ignore the cries of my black brothers and sisters anymore. I can’t go along with “all lives matter” anymore. And I can’t let people assume there was even a 1% chance this Christian with a platform voted for Donald Trump.

(I 100% did not.)

Following Jesus compels me to step out against idolatry — idolatry of country, idolatry of leaders, etc.

Following Jesus compels me to speak out for those with less of a voice — racial minorities, sexual minorities, etc.

Policies matter, of course. But so does character — unbelievably more so, in my opinion.

The older I get, the more character drives my decisions. Not just at the ballot box. But in my relationships. Because whether it’s in a president or a friend, even in disagreement there’s a comforting sense of respect for the other side, a basic empathy manifesting.

Humility has become my favorite quality in other humans. It’s my favorite quality in my closest friends, and it’s my favorite quality in leaders: pastors, other ministry leaders, and politicians.

Show me someone who doesn’t take credit for him/herself, blesses those around him/her, readily admits his/her faults, and doesn’t need an ounce of extra attention — and I’m in for that person.

I value character over policy. And I can’t divorce policy from character.

I don’t like talking about this stuff. I’d much rather tell you a story. It’s more my strength, certainly my passion.

But I also want to lean into the discomfort in my content. I don’t want to run away from stepping out and speaking out. As a white guy. As a gay guy. As a Christian guy. As a whatever else kind of guy I am.

I know I have a diverse following: super conservative, super liberal, and super in between.

If I feel conservatives have a blind spot, I want to help bring light to that darkness.

If I feel liberals have a blind spot, I want to point a ray that way, too.

And, of course, I want to stay humble myself, because I know I’ve had many blind spots over my life.

I’m still learning as I go as a human, and certainly as a human with this whole having a platform thing. Of learning the consequences of not stepping out and speaking out.

When I started this blog a decade ago, I couldn’t have fathomed following such a winding staircase of topics. From pornography to politics — one terrifying step after another, twisting and turning around the bend.

But if I feel that prick in my soul to write it down for someone to read, or speak it out for someone to listen, I want to honor that Voice. No matter the topic. No matter what fallout comes.

It’s vital to recognize the stakes of these times. As believers, not tying ourselves to King Saul but to King Jesus.

God go with us in these days.