Welcome to my weekly digest for October 28, 2022. For new subscribers, this contains a roundup of my recent writings and podcasts, as well as links to the best articles from around the web this week. You can control what emails you get from me by
When I look at figures like Russell Moore with charity, I think one reason they think the way they do is they grew up in a time and place in which they internalized the idea that the Christian right is a powerful force, while in my formative years (in a secular-right-leaning family living in a purple area in the 90s) I internalized the idea that it's a weak, basically irrelevant force.
I look at him and my initial reaction is that a prominent evangelical figure is doing things like criticizing what I might think of as trailer park Christians in the pages of the NYT -- people who have little worldly esteem and don't even occupy the heights of evangelical officialdom -- and I'm inclined to frame it as a religious elite punching down at his social and possibly intellectual lessers in order to score cheap points in the eyes of powerful worldly elites. Not a good look. But inside Moore's head, I imagine he's not a religious elite but an embattled evangelical who is actually punching up at modern-day Pharisees and Sadducees who are far more powerful than he within the church and who have links to powerful worldly figures in the Republican Party.
To that point, he probably perceives the Republican Party more as it was in his childhood, a party of powerful elites and corporate interests, while in my heart of hearts I think of it as the Mr. Magoo of political parties, the "Stupid Party" with Trump as Magoo-in-Chief and only the most tepid, grudging, and heavily paid-for support from a minority of economic elites. Putting much trust in figures like Trump might be stupid, but in my mind it's an act of desperation and weakness and not an association with the power that truly runs this world (and that clearly favors the Democrats).
I think that is giving Moore too much credit. It is more likely he views the average regular attending Southern Baptist the same way most elected Republicans view their own voters, with thinly veiled contempt. I thought John McCain after he lost in 2008 really stopped trying to mask the fact that he truly hated the average Republican voter. Moore was in a comparable spot with Southern Baptists by the time he left the ERLC. He didn't hate them, but saw them as rubes worthy of his contempt.
Moore has worked hard to get access and respect from elites both within the church and secular political elites. This is who he writes for and wants to maintain his standing with. Take his paragraph Aaron highlights which talks about Nativism and "a dark-skinned, Aramaic-speaking “foreigner” who is probably not all that impressed by chants of “Make America great again.”" Despite the desperation of progressive Christians to claim " I was a stranger and you took me in" is a call for open borders, there is no scripture to support the elimination of national borders the way globalists want. These elites also love to throw out this claim about Christ being "brown" or "dark-skinned" as if it is some sort of gotcha or slam against conservative white Christians. There is very little archaeological evidence for it and frankly, most Christians don't care or even think about it. Moore and his ilk can't resist using it as a virtue signal to progressive elites that they aren't like those dumb hicks who voted for Trump.
I suggest reading his semi-autobiographical book, "Onwards," with a critical eye and look at how he describes his own childhood, motivations, and goals. Remember that he was a failed Democrat politician before he ever went to seminary. Examine closely the resentments he expresses in his own words, and the framing of his early life. When he talks about how he's ashamed of his upbringing, his hometown church, the folks he grew up with, this forms an important piece of evidence for how his actions and his ideas should be interpreted and what they really mean, as opposed to the superficial meaning we assume when we listen.
I remember being shocked and appalled at one of his "Prophetic Minority" sermons (back in the day when outright disdain of the layfolk by our leaders was still shocking and appalling) where he talks about "those kinds" of Christians who drive pickups, and go to bars with "happy birthday Jesus" signs at Christmastime, and then says that he's glad that they're no longer going to church. When I've lectured on the topic, I point this out and say that first, he's not as clever as he thinks he is, and we all know what he really means here. Second, as a Christian, I want people in church on Sunday regardless of what they do Saturday night. They might accidentally hear the Word of God as they snooze in the back pew, while I guarantee they will hear nothing of the Word on their sofa watching TV.
When I look at figures like Russell Moore with charity, I think one reason they think the way they do is they grew up in a time and place in which they internalized the idea that the Christian right is a powerful force, while in my formative years (in a secular-right-leaning family living in a purple area in the 90s) I internalized the idea that it's a weak, basically irrelevant force.
I look at him and my initial reaction is that a prominent evangelical figure is doing things like criticizing what I might think of as trailer park Christians in the pages of the NYT -- people who have little worldly esteem and don't even occupy the heights of evangelical officialdom -- and I'm inclined to frame it as a religious elite punching down at his social and possibly intellectual lessers in order to score cheap points in the eyes of powerful worldly elites. Not a good look. But inside Moore's head, I imagine he's not a religious elite but an embattled evangelical who is actually punching up at modern-day Pharisees and Sadducees who are far more powerful than he within the church and who have links to powerful worldly figures in the Republican Party.
To that point, he probably perceives the Republican Party more as it was in his childhood, a party of powerful elites and corporate interests, while in my heart of hearts I think of it as the Mr. Magoo of political parties, the "Stupid Party" with Trump as Magoo-in-Chief and only the most tepid, grudging, and heavily paid-for support from a minority of economic elites. Putting much trust in figures like Trump might be stupid, but in my mind it's an act of desperation and weakness and not an association with the power that truly runs this world (and that clearly favors the Democrats).
I think that is giving Moore too much credit. It is more likely he views the average regular attending Southern Baptist the same way most elected Republicans view their own voters, with thinly veiled contempt. I thought John McCain after he lost in 2008 really stopped trying to mask the fact that he truly hated the average Republican voter. Moore was in a comparable spot with Southern Baptists by the time he left the ERLC. He didn't hate them, but saw them as rubes worthy of his contempt.
Moore has worked hard to get access and respect from elites both within the church and secular political elites. This is who he writes for and wants to maintain his standing with. Take his paragraph Aaron highlights which talks about Nativism and "a dark-skinned, Aramaic-speaking “foreigner” who is probably not all that impressed by chants of “Make America great again.”" Despite the desperation of progressive Christians to claim " I was a stranger and you took me in" is a call for open borders, there is no scripture to support the elimination of national borders the way globalists want. These elites also love to throw out this claim about Christ being "brown" or "dark-skinned" as if it is some sort of gotcha or slam against conservative white Christians. There is very little archaeological evidence for it and frankly, most Christians don't care or even think about it. Moore and his ilk can't resist using it as a virtue signal to progressive elites that they aren't like those dumb hicks who voted for Trump.
I suggest reading his semi-autobiographical book, "Onwards," with a critical eye and look at how he describes his own childhood, motivations, and goals. Remember that he was a failed Democrat politician before he ever went to seminary. Examine closely the resentments he expresses in his own words, and the framing of his early life. When he talks about how he's ashamed of his upbringing, his hometown church, the folks he grew up with, this forms an important piece of evidence for how his actions and his ideas should be interpreted and what they really mean, as opposed to the superficial meaning we assume when we listen.
I remember being shocked and appalled at one of his "Prophetic Minority" sermons (back in the day when outright disdain of the layfolk by our leaders was still shocking and appalling) where he talks about "those kinds" of Christians who drive pickups, and go to bars with "happy birthday Jesus" signs at Christmastime, and then says that he's glad that they're no longer going to church. When I've lectured on the topic, I point this out and say that first, he's not as clever as he thinks he is, and we all know what he really means here. Second, as a Christian, I want people in church on Sunday regardless of what they do Saturday night. They might accidentally hear the Word of God as they snooze in the back pew, while I guarantee they will hear nothing of the Word on their sofa watching TV.