Pastoral Courage in an Age of Populist Relativism

A response to Kevin DeYoung from last year - but pointing to a much larger challenge

Saint Ambrose barring Theodosius from Milan Cathedral, Anthony van Dyk. Photo credit: National Gallery, London.

Author’s Note: I wrote much of this last Fall but decided not to publish it. But with former President Trump still widely leading in polls for the GOP nomination - despite his increasingly clear corruption and contempt for the rule of law - I believe it may be helpful to publish now before the primary season heats up again. Conservative pastors across the United States need to find our courage before it’s too late; not for the political outcome - but for the sake of truth and integrity.

This essay is in part a response to an article by Kevin DeYoung published in World magazine in August 2022. I sent Dr. DeYoung an advance version of this article several weeks ago in case he wished to offer any corrections or replies before its publication. I kindly heard back from his assistant that he did not. But DeYoung’s article and my response are simply touchstones for a much larger issue - the need to speak up for moral integrity within our own tribes, even if it comes at a personal cost.

This essay then is not a brief against those who voted for Trump in the general elections of 2016 or 2020, nor a call for congregations to divide over politics. My own approach towards church unity in this challenging time can be found here. We must treat one another with respect and grace. Rather, this essay is a call for Christian leaders and public figures to stand for truth, integrity and righteousness within the Church as the culture impacts us from all sides.

God give us men! A time like this demands
Strong minds, great hearts, true faith, and ready hands;
Men whom the lust of office does not kill;
Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy;
Men who possess opinions and a will;
Men who have honor, — men who will not lie;
Men who can stand before a demagogue,
And damn his treacherous flatteries without winking!
Tall men, sun-crowned, who live above the fog
In public duty, and in private thinking:
For while the rabble, with their thumb-worn creeds,
Their large professions and their little deeds, —
Mingle in selfish strife, lo! Freedom weeps,
Wrong rules the land, and waiting justice sleeps.

~ “Wanted,” Josiah Gilbert Holland, 1872

The Inner Ring

Early in my pastoral career, I faced a test. A test I failed. A fellow minister in my presbytery came up to me and told me he had been arrested for assault and battery at a family event.

I had just recently been ordained, but when I asked him more, he freely confessed what he had done - and it was bad. It was not just one punch thrown in anger, but a real pummeling, enough so that he got arrested. The story made it into his town’s local paper when another minister from a different denomination wrote a letter about it. Now, this pastor I spoke to was not well known in our presbytery, something of a fringe figure - I don’t even remember his name. He was older, and I assume may have passed into glory by now. Nevertheless, he was still a minister in our denomination.

I told him he should confess to the presbytery and he shrugged it off. So then, as a young minister, I went and talked to two senior members of the presbytery about it to get their advice, and they also shrugged and said, “that’s just so-and-so, he’s a hothead.” So, no discipline? Nah, let the law take care of it, these things happen.

So, hearing that, what did I do? I did nothing. I let it go. It was not my business and was not affecting my church. It was only affecting the reputation of the church of Jesus Christ in some small town nobody cared about. Church discipline is a pain in the neck and none of these senior members thought it was necessary in this case because it was just assault and battery. Moreover, I loved my Presbytery and greatly respected its leaders and my mentors within it.

So I dropped it. I was a coward.

Now, what if I had pressed the issue? What would that have done to my reputation in the presbytery or the denomination? Would I have become known as a trouble maker, a discontent, a young upstart too big for his own britches? I will never know. Because I did nothing. I closed ranks with my colleagues. By my silence. That is the pressure that belonging to a group often brings. Instead of standing for truth, no matter what it may cost us, we are told to stay in our place and protect the tribe.

As CS Lewis notes in his brilliant address, “The Inner Ring,” the tribe is not always coterminous with the actual organization in question, e.g. a presbytery or denomination. Very often, it is a sub-tribe within the tribe with whom we close ranks, and to whom we are unwilling to offer correction, lest we ourselves get cast out. I have seen this done innumerable times in speeches and social media posts and whispered gossip, where a person is arguing not to convince the whole, but playing to his own Inner Ring, to gain their approval, win or lose the argument at hand. “Well done, brother!” and a slap on the back from a colleague is worth more to our careers and self-esteem than votes won.

Meanwhile, lost in all this horizontal scrutiny and image protecting is the most important question of all: what would Jesus have me do? What does it look like for me to follow Him, even if no one else understands or follows along? If this seems absurd, all one has to do is read the prophets, or Galatians, or Hebrews 11 to understand the power of the crowds, and the effect that social pressures can exert on us. “Do not fear those who can kill the body,” Jesus tells us. Yet very often, that is exactly what we do.

DeYoung on Cheney

A year ago in World magazine, Rev. Kevin DeYoung wrote an article, in which, in my view, he drew the wrong lesson from Representative Liz Cheney’s defeat in her Wyoming primary. He also took a different tone than his earlier, 2016 articles concerning Donald Trump. DeYoung is a colleague whom I respect and for whom I am thankful. I appreciate his 2021 analysis of political divisions within the Reformed world. But DeYoung is also public figure with almost half a million Twitter followers, who has been given a large profile within our denomination, the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA). And as such, when his ideas merit push back, they should get it. That’s part of being Presbyterian, after all.

DeYoung’s main point was a truism: “Don’t expect to be a leader among people you no longer consider your people.” He then goes on to explain that prophetic rebukes within a tribe are sometimes needed, but should always be in the context of more frequent affirmation and love, using his own example of fathering and pastoring.

The problem with DeYoung using Cheney’s example to illustrate this truism is three-fold. First, in order to do so, he had to assume she was looking horizontally at tribal alliances, rather than acting on principal. By Cheney seeking accountability for the actions by members of her own party leading up to January 6th, DeYoung implies that Cheney was "constant(ly) harping on the same thing” and held a “thinly veiled disgust for the people (she was) ostensibly trying to correct.” That may be the case, but he never demonstrated that. DeYoung simply assumed that the crowds (in this case the GOP base) to be correct in their judgment of Cheney. Vox populi, I suppose.

DeYoung wrote that he would not do a deep dive into electoral politics but then essentially asserted that Senator Ben Sasse got the balance right by voting to convict President Trump and then more or less staying quiet. (So quiet in fact, that since DeYoung’s article, Sasse has left the Senate for the academic world.) Cheney, on the other hand, by choosing to help investigate January 6th further, constantly “harped” and in effect treated her tribe with contempt and left them, “choosing to exert influence among a different constituency,” as he implies was her motive at the end. In other words, she should have given up trying to convince the GOP how misdirected their party had become, and not even run for re-election I suppose - the truth of the matter surrounding January 6th notwithstanding.

Secondly, DeYoung strangely applies Cheney’s example to life in the church, specifically the PCA. Never mind the category error of comparing the dog-eat-dog world of secular politics to the Christian family and church, DeYoung’s clear implication is that Cheney’s sizeable primary loss can be attributed to her “speaking with contempt, holding in derision the people you now find exasperating.” By implication, if a leader points out and then seeks accountability for errors within his church, is that holding his own tribe in contempt, and a sign that he has already “changed teams?” That appears to be DeYoung’s implication. Why else would he take a secular example and compare it to life within Christ’s kingdom?

So, using Sasse’s positive example, DeYoung seems to be saying, it’s fine to say something - but best then to not do anything about it. Maybe raise the issue once - and then drop it. Just like I did early on in my ministry. But had I pursued accountability for this colleague, then, according to DeYoung, I might well have been “harping” and treating my presbytery with “derision.” It’s exactly this kind of pressure from within tribes that often keeps us from having the courage that we should. The push back (or shunning) can be severe, and the price deemed too high. This pressure is not a good thing. But DeYoung’s article, by castigating Cheney and then shifting it to life in the Church, reinforces the dynamic of this silent conformity, even in the face of obvious misdeeds.

Of course it’s true that we all have to pick our battles. Those who know me know that I think many of the ecclesiastical battles we fight are unnecessary - especially those outside our own congregations and presbyteries. But as we increasingly discover abuse, hypocrisy and bullying within the Reformed world, are we to say nothing? Or just “tsk tsk” about the perpetrators and then drop it?

It takes courage to be the kind of church we ought to be. We ought to make the Church one that is welcoming to repentant sinners, the weak and the suffering. Likewise, we ought to make it uncomfortable for bullies, abusers and the self-confident. To help create such a Church takes courage - even if we are told that we are the ones “harping” on the evident sins of the errant or the bullies.

Thirdly, in using Cheney’s example, DeYoung ignores the primary reason she lost, the actual facts on the ground which she was investigating, and which much of her Trump-dominated party wants to downplay. In other words, whatever happened to truth? Were the factors that gave rise to the January 6th assault on the US Capitol so minor as to not be worth “harping” on? Do those same factors no longer pose a threat to the rule of law in our land? The polls suggest otherwise.

If DeYoung’s point was to draw a lesson from current politics for life in the church, he almost certainly drew the wrong one for our era. Conservative Christians in America, and particularly pastors, need to find our courage in the age of Trump and the moral relativism coming at us from all sides. But DeYoung’s article reveals the kind of thinking that gives us excuses not to.

What is true or not true about the events surrounding January 6th and other Trump actions? Is he liable for sexual assault, as he bragged about in the “Access Hollywood” videotape and as a New York court found this past year, or isn’t he? Did he pay off a porn star to keep her quiet before his 2016 election or didn’t he? Did he call Georgia officials to try to change the results of an election or didn’t he? I could go on and on with literally dozens of such questions, including those involving the violence on January 6th, violence his actions - and inactions - helped instigate.

Are Christians supposed to be so disinterested, that we no longer care about truth, much less the rule of law? Are we so concerned about what our own tribe thinks that we won’t even follow Christ at a cost? Are we supposed to just stay quiet? If we don’t speak up when it comes to clear matters of public morality, what makes us think we will find our courage when it comes to heresy within the Church? Or when it comes to our own friends’ immoral behavior or bullying? Where is our courage?

To be cool and “above the fray” as pastors when it comes to public morality is, in my opinion, the easy way out, and not what the Reformed doctrine of the Spirituality of the Church teaches. Yes, Christ’s kingdom is not of this world and we are always to first major on the Gospel. Proportionality and moderation should be our rule. Likewise, we are to preach Christ in all kinds of societies and under all sorts of governments. But we are still in the world. Truth is still truth. And, for its many common grace blessings, democracy and the rule of law is worth standing up for.

Even so, DeYoung did not stay above the fray. By criticizing Cheney last year, he entered into it - and frankly in a way that likely plays safely to his own crowd. I suspect he hasn’t paid any price for excoriating Liz Cheney or for failing to speak out on President Trump’s evident corruption and threats of violence. Our tribe doesn’t make pastors pay a price for that.

What I find most troubling within conservative Christian circles are those who at first opposed Donald Trump in 2016 for principial reasons but then over time, acquiesced to the views of the GOP majority, as if their initial principles were malleable in the wake of political successes. DeYoung spoke out against Trump in 2016, but by 2022, he criticized a congresswoman trying to hold her party accountable for the very amorality DeYoung at first opposed. So what changed? In 2016, DeYoung wrote:

There is a tendency, on both sides, to treat “our side” differently than we treat “their side.” Would the same Christian leaders excusing Trump’s statements ever think to excuse the same from Clinton (Bill or Hillary)? Of course not. Would liberals be overlooking Bill Clinton’s treatment of women (and Hillary’s role in downplaying or silencing accusations) if a Republican candidate (or spouse) had the same trail of serious allegations? No way. So much of politics is “defend our guy at all costs” and “seek and destroy their guy at all costs.” The church must show a better way.

Indeed. To an outside observer in 2023, it must appear that the tribe has changed - and DeYoung has changed with it, along with a good part of the conservative, Reformed world. Why else the equivocation or silence now as Trump’s danger to our democracy has grown even more pronounced? Are conservative Christians giving up on democracy and the rule of law so easily, just because the GOP tribe has changed?

So, in this sense, my beef is not so much with DeYoung himself, but with an entire movement of silence within my circles. His article is merely a touchstone for a larger trend, in my view. What was said in 2016 (by some) is now no longer being said, even though the threat to the rule of law is even more evident. We cling to the Spirituality of the Church and plead neutrality on the very matters we ought not.

As we enter the 2024 primary season and consider the moral issues involved, it will take courage to speak the truth. Especially from pastors and elders, who are supposed to stand for truth, righteousness and the rule of law - in both church and society. I don’t mean that we should express opinions in the nitty gritty details of public policy or Trump’s malfeasance, e.g. whether specific laws were broken or not. But his corruption, threats, amorality and narcissism are all in plain view. Only the deeply cynical or those safely ensconced in right-wing media bubbles would dare deny it. He is a danger to our democracy, as are the politicians (and pastors) who give him a pass.

Speaking Truth to our Own Tribes

My greater concern then is not so much for the United States. I love our country and served her at great personal cost. But nations come and go. My greater concern is the severe damage the evangelical Faustian alliance with Trump has done to the witness of Christ, especially among the younger generation. What good does it do to return to a pre-1965 America if we lose a generation to the Gospel?

We live in a time of great populist cultural retrenchment. If we are to resist the Social Gospel movement from the left with its moral relativism, we must likewise resist the moral relativism now coming at us from the right. Pastors must not become silent pawns, or worse, mimicking magpies of just one more social movement. After all, friendship with the world is emnity with God, James tells us.

Of course, on other moral matters, I understand the pressures that are coming from Hollywood and Wall Street in regards to sexual mores in the larger culture - which have been with us since at least the 1920s. I get that the pressure to conform to certain forms of these sins (e.g. homosexuality) is increasing. Christians are to stand apart from culture, to “come out and be ye separate” from immorality, even while loving our neighbors.

But none of that is an excuse to refuse to speak the truth fully. It is much too easy to build a church - and even see rapid growth - with one sort of sub-culture within the United States. But that is not necessarily building the Kingdom. It’s catering. And it’s easy.

We need courage to speak to our people, to the sorts of sins and compromises we are more likely to make. In our day, in our pews, much of what we must confront is the disinformation, hyper-partisanship and unkind nativism our people have been fed from multiple, profit-driven conservative media outlets. Even if we have certain policy agreements with them, any Christ-following soul should recognize the slander, bias and disinformation that regularly flows from many of these outlets. In conservative, evangelical circles, speaking to that is at least as great a challenge as speaking to the sexual sins prevalent in the wider culture.

The Apostle Paul put it like this to the Corinthians when they failed to confront a particular sexual sin in their own congregation -

I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people— not at all meaning the sexually immoral of this world, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters, since then you would need to go out of the world. But now I am writing to you not to associate with anyone who bears the name of brother if he is guilty of sexual immorality or greed, or is an idolater, reviler, drunkard, or swindler—not even to eat with such a one. For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge? God judges those outside. “Purge the evil person from among you.” (I Cor. 5:9-13)

In other words, it takes courage to call out the sins of the world - but even more courage to confront the sins more likely to be in our own ranks. Disinformation, slander and materialism have been pumped into our conservative Christian homes from talk radio for three decades now and we are paying the price with our own forms of moral relativism. Maybe that is why Liz Cheney lost by so much.

It doesn’t matter if the other side also does it (e.g. MSNBC prime time). It does not matter what the DNC supports. Our job is to disciple our own congregations - to get them to follow Christ more than any particular political party or policy. I myself was an avid Rush Limbaugh listener for decades. But gradually it dawned on me - listening to him and his ilk was not good for my sanctification, no matter how much I may agree with certain public policy positions.

In my circles, too many people, including pastors, have openly identified their conservative political positions with the cause of Christ Himself. They post about political issues daily on social media as if this was their kingdom work. One PCA pastor with a daily radio show claimed to be addressing the issues of the day from “a Biblical world and life view” - not just on clear cut issues like abortion and sexuality, but on things like taxation, immigration and the specific political scandals of the day, often simply repeating GOP talking points.

The truth is that most PCA pastors can get away with this sort of thing because of who our congregations are and what side of the political aisle they fall. With most of our demographics, it doesn’t cost us to own specific GOP strategies as “Biblical.” But it still muddies the cause of Christ and his grace to all sorts of sinners and to all sorts of nations.

Courage in our Place and Time

So yes, of course, pastors should love and respect our flocks - greatly. They are the ones who do the vast part of Kingdom work in our churches, usually behind the scenes. And those we differ with often have great graces that we ourselves lack. We are no better than they are, sinners saved by grace, and in many cases, greater sins: sins of pastoral pride and ambition. But PCA pastors are also Presbyterian pastors - those who are supposed to be known for our learning and objectivity, for our commitment to truth above all else, rather than looking only to horizontal consequences.

Have we lost our courage? Are we supposed to remain “polite” by refusing to point out the growing conspiracy theories or contempt for the rule of law in our circles, while much of the GOP becomes increasingly trumpified and amoral? To remain quiet in the face of such obvious cynicism is not respectful of our flocks - it’s either ignorance, hyper-partisan bias or cowardice.

It is no secret that I have been opposed to Trump since early 2016. I even contributed to an anthology in 2020 and stand by my essay in that volume. I understand that others differed - especially in the general elections and I respect those choices. But since January 6th, 2021, given all that we now know, Trump must not be the GOP nominee for president in 2024. We should find the moral courage to say so.

This is not a hard call. Not even close. But because not enough GOP politicians and voters are saying so, pastors must. I wish this was not the case. But where the nation fails, then pastors must be its conscience. Even as we have tried to do so on abortion the past five decades. And it will not be enough to merely “tsk tsk” about Trump’s statements and then say, “look at me, I’m balanced.” That’s like saying one is balanced on race relations because one opposes kinism - a pretty low bar. Nor is it enough to rebuke the sins of past eras. We must have the courage to face the challenges of our own.

In my view, this is an extraordinary case (akin to Westminster Confession of Faith 31.4) that needs to be spoken to clearly from those who are called to be the conscience of the nation. Our democracy is facing the greatest test since the end of Reconstruction in 1876, and we will all be in danger if we let it fail. Maybe not us and our tribe at first. But in time. And even if it never effects us personally, whatever happened to the Christian ethic of loving our neighbor and caring for the “least of these” among us, those who will be hurt by a lessening of civil rights safeguards?

What does clear speaking from pastors mean? In my opinion, it means publishing our conscience in this primary season publicly. Then having done so, moving on with the work of the Gospel, regardless of political outcomes. I still embrace J. Greshem Machen’s concerns about Lord’s Day worship which I included in my chapter on humility and church culture:

Is there no refuge from strife? Is there no place of refreshing where a man can prepare for the battle of life? Is there no place where two or three can gather in Jesus' name, to forget for the moment all those things that divide nation from nation and race from race, to forget human pride, to forget the passions of war, to forget the puzzling problems of industrial strife, and to unite in overflowing gratitude at the foot of the Cross? If there be such a place, then that is the house of God and that the gate of heaven. And from under the threshold of that house will go forth a river that will revive the weary world. (Christianity and Liberalism, p. 159)

We must minister grace to those who agree with us and to those who disagree; much in the same manner in which medics treat the wounded in battle on all sides. Our mission is to reach and love all people with the Good News of Jesus Christ, politics aside, even as we ourselves stand for what is good, true and beautiful.

Finally, because it must be said, nothing in this essay is a brief for the DNC, or advocating for particular candidates. That is beside the point. This is about confronting and holding accountable the political movement we are most realistically associated with. Nor does any of this ignore answered prayers in regards to pro-life advances. We can be grateful for God’s providences and still move on, letting the rule of law take its course, instead of vilifying the very people who seek accountability.

Might never makes right and the ends never justify the means. That is the heart of Christian ethics. But it is an ethic often unheeded by the influential and powerful - not only in society, but sadly, often in the Church. It is not for nothing Paul says that not many in the Church are powerful or of noble birth, but that God chooses those who are weak in the world to shame the strong. As Richard Sibbes reminds us in The Bruised Reed, “weakness is the keeper of virtue.” We forget this to our peril.

God Give Us Leaders

Years ago, in the middle of the “War on Terror,” when much of the conservative church (including me) had become quite jingoistic in our patriotism, PCA pastor Rick Phillips wrote an article opposing torture, which he reiterated several years later. It irked me at the time, because I desperately wanted the U.S. to strike back at those who who had attacked us. I wanted us to win. I cheered out loud when Saddam Hussein was captured.

But it was the right thing for Rev. Phillips to say. As he writes in a summary post:

In my view, this is a watershed issue. For America to sanction torture is to embrace a new level of barbarism. For this to come from the administration of a President who openly names himself a Christian hurts all the more. So much for the "culture of life." But just as concerning to me is this question: Where is the evangelical Christian opposition to torture? Our silence on this issue undermines our status as defenders of biblical morality and surrenders the moral high ground to the liberals at the worst possible moment.

Christian leaders are to stand on principle, not on “what works.” We don’t cater to the crowd. We follow Jesus. We pay the cost, including the cost of the anxiety of when and how to speak up - when staying quiet or sticking to abstract theology would be much easier. But we must be faithful to our place. We must be faithful in our time. We must find our courage in Christ.

As pastors, we face many tests, some in our congregations, some in our presbyteries or associations, some in our own hearts. There are abusers, politicians and bullies who must be stood up to. We need courage to confess our own public errors and sins publicly, trusting that God’s grace and protection is greater than any slander or fallout we may receive for our “weakness” in doing so. For all these tests, we need courage. Courage to face them, and courage to do so in the right manner - ethically, within the system, and bearing the fruit of the Spirit. We need to pick up our cross and follow Christ. Not because it might be popular or unpopular but simply because it is the right thing to do.

In my own case, it has taken me decades to realize the benefits and privileges I accepted by staying silent on certain attitudes regarding race, violence and gender within my own circles. Because the truth is, I was part of the system of silence. I love and respect these colleagues who have taught me so much. But my own career benefited from these erroneous views, not by my active promotion of them, but by accepting it as the air in which I breathed.

I was a coward. I am trying to do better now.

As Martin Luther King Jr. prayed, paraphrasing Josiah Holland’s poem:

“God give us leaders! A time like this demands great leaders; Leaders whom the lust of office does not kill; Leaders whom the spoils of life cannot buy; Leaders who possess opinions and a will; Leaders who have honor; Leaders who will not lie; Leaders who can stand before a demagogue and damn his treacherous flatteries without winking! Tall leaders, sun crowned, who live above the fog in public duty and private thinking."

When we follow conscience and speak the truth in love, it may well come at a personal cost. We may lose a vote - or a job. But when the smoke revealing eternity clears (I Cor 3:12-15), it will be worth it. We will have helped build the Kingdom, the only Kingdom that truly lasts. I am the Way, the Truth and the Life, said Jesus. Let us follow Him.