The
Trump Presidential Library had several recent acquisitions.
On
Monday last week, former New Jersey Governor Chris Christie published his
tell-all, Let Me Finish, in which he described the Trump
White House as a "Game of Thrones operation." https://bit.ly/2UHJuWf. The next day, former White House aide Cliff Sims
contributed Team
of Vipers,
whose title speaks for itself.
This
week saw the leak of the President's daily schedule for the last 3 months,
showing that he spends 60% of his time in unscheduled "Executive Time."
https://bit.ly/2D5QR2p.
That's when he loafs in front of Fox and tweets about it. Or so we think --
who's to know for sure what he does. Whatever it is, he'd rather do that than
listen to some boring intelligence briefing. https://bit.ly/2G5p4mT.
Oh,
and let's not forget that his lies-batted-in average this year is at a record
16.5 times a day. https://wapo.st/2HSTWJ2.
With all that, what
should we make of White House press
secretary and noted preacher's kid Sarah Huckabee Sanders proclaiming to the
Christian
Broadcasting Network that "God wanted Donald Trump to become
president." http://www1.cbn.com/cbnnews/politics/2019/january/exclusive-white-house-press-secretary-sarah-sanders-god-wanted-donald-trump-to-become-president. British
evolutionary biologist J.B.S. Haldane, when asked what the natural world had
taught him about God, supposedly quipped that the Almighty had "an inordinate
fondness for beetles." If Sarah's right, then God really does have an
over-the-top fondness for lower life-forms.
Not
to mention a wicked sense of humor.
Those
of us who knew or knew of the Donald in the 80s and 90s formed a dim view of
him even back then. Mine hasn't changed much; certainly not for the better. How
Sarah Sanders and her evangelical cohorts came to view this classless con-man
of a Manhattan dirt peddler as the anointed one of God is a mystery deeper than
any I was ever made to ponder in my dozen years in Catholic schools.
Michael Gerson penned one
of the best attempts to explain it a few months ago in The
Atlantic. https://bit.ly/2O9MfAG.
Evangelicism
toppled from being one of the most dominant American religious temperaments in
the mid-1800s to one of the most marginalized today. After gloriously
spearheading the Abolitionist movement, they went off the rails. They staked
their future on a doctrinal opposition to drinking and to evolution -- and
hence allied itself against human nature on the one hand and science on the
other. Nothing was going to stop us from drinking, so evangelicism's great
temperance movement ended in the great failure of Prohibition. Also, whether
God made humans from dust of through natural selection makes not a whit of
difference to the life of anyone alive. So why fight over it? Science, like
human nature, always wins in the end. The evangelicals in the early 20th Century
bet against both and lost bigly. Today, it is a fractured movement that gathers
the in-your-face bullies of Westboro and the wannabe wealthy of Lakewood under
one unwieldly tent.
With
all that, I can understand how the evangelicals want to be made great again. In
Trump's hucksterism, they saw a messiah. Go
figure.
But every action also
has its equal and opposite reaction. President Trump has summoned up a
thundercloud. Topics that were political third rails for years -- like a return
to 70% marginal rates, wealth taxes, universal healthcare, higher minimum
wages, and banning stock buy-backs that benefit shareholders and executives but
not employees -- all are now on the table. Why not? If turn-of-the-last-century
tariffs can make a comeback, so should Teddy Roosevelt-style progressivism,
trustbusting, conservationism and all. Even billionaires like Howard Schultz
and Michael Bloomberg are taking this seriously. For good reason, as many of
those proposals have supermajority public support. See
https://bit.ly/2MRYC0n;
https://bit.ly/2RGFK5h.
Like I said, God has one wicked sense of
humor.
In his
Varieties of Religious Experience, written just about when
evangelicism began its downward spiral, philosopher William James depicted
example after example of persons proclaiming to have had a religious conversion
experience. No two were identical, each personal. Each of us, if we are moved
by some spirit, is moved alone. No one can prove that their God is the same,
different or better than anyone else's, and one person's God is often enough
another person's Devil. In the end, we each seek, and find, the God we need.
James wrote, quoting another philosopher, "God is not known, he is not
understood; he is used -- sometimes as meat-purveyor,
sometimes as moral support, sometimes as friend, sometimes as object of love.
If he proves himself useful, the religious consciousness asks for no more than
that." That's why one of our bedrock principles as a secular society is that
each of us, having different need, is entitled to our own God, whatever we
conceive Him, Her, It, or Them to be (or not to
be).
In his new book,
21 Lessons for the 21st Century, historian Yuval Harari
raises a novel point about the biblical Third Commandment. The King James
translation says don't take the name of God "in vain." The word "vain" means
useless. The Jewish Study Bible interprets the original text
as don't "swear falsely by," which suggests lying under oath -- perjury -- but
also the dangerous practice of "swearing to God" to sanctify simple human
promises. We tend to make promises lightly, and reality often forces us to
break more than some of them. If we swear to God to keep a promise, who will
release us when that promise becomes impossible? We are left to stand, in
Dylan's words, guarding against "abstract threats too noble to neglect,
deceived into thinking we have something to
protect."
More recent translations
of the Third Commandment use, as to God's name, words like "misuse" (the
Catholic Jerusalem Bible), "make wrongful use of" (the
Anglican Oxford Bible), and use "for emptiness" (the
Schocken Bible). That is how Harari reads it, and I think
he's right. Each side to every battle, whether in war or in politics, believes
that God is on their side. He's not. "We should never use the name of God to justify
our political interests, our economic ambitions, or our personal hatreds,"
Harari writes. "You want to wage war on your neighbors and steal their land?
Leave God out of it and find yourself some other
excuse."
So, Sarah, don't justify the team of vipers or your place in it by invoking Divine will. You'll find the truer answer in a mirror; go look if you dare.