In light of the revelation that the FBI spied on Republican members of Congress, I thought it may be helpful to reflect on the reasoning, or rather feelings, that people use to justify this sort of behavior in ecclesiastical circles. When you spy on people and build dossiers against them (in state, family, church, or work) it’s because you’ve decided they’re the enemy.
Even if a brother were your enemy (and usually he is not), you made vows before God to treat him as a brother—to work for his good and his family’s good as you would your own. When you gossip, join hands with gossips, or pick apart everything you can find, you are walking in the steps of the accuser of the brothers. You say, “no he is the problem because he’s made us upset and deserves our enmity” which just shows you see him as an enemy and not someone you are committed to in the Lord. The Lord will vindicate his own in that kind of set-up. But that’s not even the main point here of my post.
The deeper point is this: the reason you think this behavior is good is because of a cultural reflex (likely subconscious and instinctual) called punch right, slide left.
In American conservatism, this dynamic is like gravity. People to your right (think traditional white Christian men) are not shown the ordinary kindnesses, courtesies, benefit of the doubt, and tolerances others get, unless they submit themselves to this cultural self-destruction and participate themselves in the punch right ritual. Conservatives think “punching right” proves their moral-spiritual balance and earns them a seat at the liberalizing table. So do you want to be a good person? Balanced? Wise? Punch right! They think it proves one to be “principled” and “reasonable” and “willing to police their own.”
But what it really proves is fear. Fear of being called extreme. Fear of being thrown out of polite society. Fear of being a deplorable. Fear of the disapproval of women and their feelings about feeling the discomfort they have around men they don’t control. Yes that’s right, feelings about feelings about feelings.
So they “police” their own. Like good bureaucrats, they find someone to their right, someone who dares to speak without apology, someone who refuses to play the game. They pick him apart, gossip about him, form committees, spread “concerns” … and aren’t we all so so so very “concerned” in our age of anxiety. 😆👍🏻
Meanwhile, they handle those to their left with gentleness and reason: “How can we be a witness? How can we encourage them? They need patience. We need to be wise.”
But when it’s someone to the right, the tone changes. It’s: “Why are these people coming to our church?”
They don’t ask that of the young couple living in sin. They disciple them. They don’t ask it of the glutton or the money-changer. They tolerate them. They don’t ask it of the parent with rebellious children. They pray for them and encourage them.
But let a man speak plainly about reality, and suddenly he’s “concerning.” This is how our nation and institutions have decayed. Cowardice and pettiness masquerading as wise, balanced virtue. And until you refuse to take part in this pious sounding punch-right ritual, you will not understand the viciousness of the dynamic. And until we turn against this dynamic with the same force it currently wields we will conserve nothing.
I’ve personally refused to play that game. And yes, that makes me “concerning” no matter my actual views, words, actions, history, character, fruits. I’m harassed. Maligned. Marginalized. Targeted. Investigated. Why? Because I stopped punching right and punching down and I talk about the dynamics in complete sentences.. Therefore, I no longer deserve the things Christians freely give the wicked: patience, kindness, gentleness, humility——I am a deplorable. Oh well, we truly live in the pettiest of times.
I also understand, as mentioned, that my ability to speak about these things in complete sentences, without malice but with clarity, stirs up a lot of feelings in people, mainly about feeling feelings, and that those feelings are difficult for people to feel. Sorry? One option for people with “big feelings” is not to read or think, that way you don’t have to feel anything about it. Another would be to ignore and move on. Another would be to engage and discuss. Another would be to correct.
But each of those would require some human and Christian maturity—which we clearly, usually, lack.
