Oppenheimer’s anxiety
I recently saw Christopher Nolan’s “Oppenheimer,” which follows the complicated story of the Manhattan Project through a memoir-esque illumination of Robert Oppenheimer’s life. I loved it. By the middle of the film, the world’s best physicists have cracked the atomic code and are preparing to test an atomic bomb in the desert. Oppenheimer suggests they name the test “Trinity” for they are about to unleash the power of God. It’s brilliant filmmaking and affected me deeply — I grabbed my wife’s hand and was surprised as small tears ran down my cheek.
Waiting for the cultural bomb
The sheer anxiety provoked by this moment of the film reminded me of the stress most pastors currently feel about the 2024 election. Yes, it’s crudely hyperbolic to compare the first human test of an atomic bomb to a presidential election. But culturally, and internally, that’s how it feels. Everyone in the U.S. is at the edge of their seats, watching the political particles crashing into one another. And no matter what happens, we feel it’s only a matter of time before all of our angst explodes into rage.
Yes, it’s crudely hyperbolic to compare the first human test of an atomic bomb to a presidential election. But culturally, and internally, that’s how it feels.
I remember watching my senior pastor on the Sunday after Trump was elected in 2016. Liberals expected him to use the pulpit as a prophetic weapon of disgust. Republican congregants were in a posture of defense, wondering if the pastor who buried their grandmother was about to shame them.
My wife and I are now co-pastors. I’ve already joked with her that we’re going to rock-paper-scissors this November. Loser preaches the Sunday after the election.
Electing a new high priest
So why stay together at all? It would be easier to pick sides and wave blue or red flags above the crosses on our steeples. It feels like we have forgotten the art of dialogue. We can’t imagine that someone who was raised differently, stamped with a different genetic code, and shaped by a different history could have a diverse perspective.
Lately, I’ve been wondering if this cultural myopia happens not because we are polarized, but because the church has lost its ability to practice a Christianity that transforms us, a Christianity that worships a liberating God.
I’ve been wondering if this cultural myopia happens not because we are polarized, but because the church has lost its ability to practice a Christianity that transforms us…
Andy Root develops this idea in his book The Church in an Age of Secular Mysticisms. He defines the mystical as the mechanisms we use to help us overcome our impediments. We have assigned spiritual significance to many things outside the church whether it is an exercise program like CrossFit or Peloton, the daily practice offered in a new meditation app, the recommendations of a social media influencer, or our participation in an online gaming community like Twitch.
However, Root doesn’t think we should judge people who search for relief outside the church’s walls. Rather, he wants us to ask why people don’t seek the church. His key observation is that the church has forgotten how to speak of a God who frees us from our wounds. We’ve either opted for a Christianity that saves you through social action or a Christianity that saves you through personal righteousness. However, the problem with these forms of Christian expression is that they both emphasize human action. In short, we’ve given people a mysticism with no need for God’s intervention.
The church has forgotten how to speak of a God who frees us from our wounds. We’ve either opted for a Christianity that saves you through social action or a Christianity that saves you through personal righteousness…
I’m only 35, but I’ve collected quite a treasure-trove of burdens. Whether it’s professional pressure, the wounds of my past, or anxiety about humanity’s future, I feel the need to be rescued and freed. I’ve tried to address this need. I’ve participated in various forms of social organizing and justice work; I’ve tried new life hacks and devotionals; I’ve worked tirelessly to the point of professional burnout. As good and earnest as those attempts have been, none brought relief. It occurs to me that they are just attempts to save myself without needing God.
[We] have replaced [our] faith in God with faith in a candidate or political party.
I wonder if the church sometimes slips into this anemic Christianity without the need of God. And, perhaps, this is why politics feel more charged with religious fervor than they used to. Politics has promised to free us from our problems. Whether it’s the more progressive social paradigm of the left or the more individually heroic paradigm of the right, politics have become a mechanism for salvation. And since the church hasn’t offered a more beautiful, more expansive, gospel-centered story, people have replaced their faith in God with faith in a candidate or political party. Politics is our new God (or at least one of our new gods), and in November we elect our high priest.
So what do we do? Well, I’m not quite sure. It’s a big question. I do know that some of what we’re doing isn’t working. The idea that we can save ourselves is just inflicting more pain, and it’s causing people to leave Christianity behind altogether — for good reason. Maybe we give people a Christianity and a gospel that offers a better answer than ourselves. Casting judgment on people’s newfound spirituality will do nothing but entrench it.
What is needed, as Augustine said, is a higher and better love.
What is needed, as Augustine said, is a higher and better love. Maybe that answer has something to do with the story of a God who is alive and working to rescue us from our burdens. So whether from the pulpit, at youth group, in Bible study, at a session meeting or at a coffee shop, maybe our job is to remind one another that there is one who can rescue us. Maybe we recast and reclaim the church’s sacred calling to speak and act as if God is alive and at work. If we don’t, all that will be left to worship is ourselves.
The Presbyterian Outlook is committed to fostering faithful conversations by publishing a diversity of voices. The opinions expressed are the author’s and may or may not reflect the opinions and beliefs of the Outlook’s editorial staff or the Presbyterian Outlook Foundation. Want to join the conversation? You can write to us or submit your own article here.
