Michael Wear is an Evangelical
Christian who was a college student in Washington, DC, when he heard
Barack Obama give his speech at the 2004 Democratic National
Convention and decided to hitch himself to Obama's wagon. Wear served
a role in faith outreach in the 2008 campaign and then in the Office
of Faith-Based and Neighborhood Partnerships during Obama's first
term. He returned to do faith outreach in the 2012 campaign and then
left Obama-ville.
This book is his account of that time.
It's part memoir, part political analysis, and part religious
witness.
There's no question that, especially in
the early days, Wear was a true believer. What appealed to him about
Obama, as to so many of us, was the candidate's steadfast commitment
to bringing all sides together. One of Obama's greatest moments, Wear
says, was his invitation to Evangelical super-pastor Rick Warren to
give the invocation at his first inaugural. There was significant
blowback among Obama's staff and supporters to this choice because,
like most Evangelicals, Warren has a poor record on LGBT issues; but
Obama said, early and often, that just because we can't agree on
everything doesn't mean we have to oppose each other on everything.
And Warren spoke.
Wear's book starts with the narrative
of how he got involved with Obama and the first campaign. The middle
covers three issues that were challenges to Obama's relationships
with conservative Christians in his first term: abortion, the
contraceptive mandate of the Affordable Care Act, and Obama's
“evolution” on the issue of gay marriage. Wear's main theme is
that the promises of 2008 and 2009 had so faded that, by the time of
the 2012 campaign, Obama was essentially a partisan Democrat of the
unsavory variety.
In the case of abortion, early Obama
was at pains to make pro-life forces feel heard and not vilified,
even if there was a limit to how far he was willing to do for them.
His policies focused on “reducing the need for abortion” (as the
2008 Democratic platform put it), developing policies that could
“move our politics before the zero-sum game of the culture wars,
and actually reduce abortion by addressing its root causes.” These
policies included relationship health, strengthening adoption, and
supporting maternal and child heath. Wear is proud of times when the
president appeared open to policies supported by abortion opponents –
abstinence-only education, for instance – even if it was over the
opposition of his staff. Parenthetically: It's not really such a
great example, because abstinence-only education doesn't actually
work.
Yet zero-sum politics won in the end.
Here's a sentence that is repeated a number of times in various ways:
“By the end of 2011, hopes of following through on the president's
commitment were virtually slashed.” In a couple of cases Wear sees
Obama as doing begrudgingly at the end what he should have done at
the beginning – ruling abortion coverage out of the Affordable Care
Act; having the insurance companies, rather than faith-based
employers, pick up the tab for contraception coverage – only after
the political damage had been done, the tenuous relationships damaged
beyond repair.
In the case of gay marriage, Wear is
even more critical. Obama stated his opposition to gay marriage often
in his first campaign, basing it on a faith-resonant definition of
marriage and invoking God. By the time he announced his “evolution”
on the issue in 2011, that language was gone. Wear does a rather
forensic analysis of Obama's statements, and it appears to him
possible if not likely that Obama was always in support of gay
marriage, and that he used his initial opposition to it to prepare
the path for his eventual “evolution.” This really bothers Wear
because if Obama was being, shall we say, strategic, then he was
using faith language disingenuously, which really bothers Wear.
By the time of the 2012 election, the
dream was over. Rather than running as the hope-for-all candidate of
2008, in 2012 Obama ran a data-driven, turn-out-the-base effort that
used language – vilifying Romney, accusing the Republicans of a
“war against women” - that he would have forsworn in the earlier
campaign. The point is thrown into sharp relief by the comparison
between Rick Warren's invocation in 2009 to the all-but-rescinded
invitation to Evangelical leader Louie Giglio to participate
similarly in 2013. In 2009 Obama stuck to his guns, but in 2013 he
didn't, and Giglio withdrew. And that inauguration was Wear's
basically last event in Obama's service.
Wear's a good writer, his story is
interesting and his perspective is clear. However, I do have some
criticisms. Most of these flow from the uncertainty about what this
book is supposed to be, and who it is supposed to be influencing. Is
it a political book designed to discuss the whys and hows of faith
outreach, or is it a book of Christian witness? Because these two
are, to a significant degree, at cross purposes.
For one thing: it's almost always
Obama's fault. Obama came in with a lot of talk about bipartisanship
and civility and he was faced with rather implacable opposition from
a unified conservative base. Probably by the time of the 2010
mid-term election and certainly, as Wear notes, by 2012, he was
moving away from his conciliatory language toward a more partisan
front and a more unilateral way of governing, as seen in his reliance
on executive orders rather than legislation. One can argue, as Wear
does, that it was incumbent upon Obama to be the bigger person, and
that there were opportunities, even in later days, to reach across
the divide. But you also have to note that Republicans basically
threw away all precedent in their implacable opposition to Obama, as
evidenced by the Marrick Garland heist. Wear doesn't much note the
refusal of Obama's opposition to work with him, without which his
subsequent retreat from his best intentions is decontextualized.
Second, Evangelical positions are
always given a huge benefit of the doubt. Wear notes that politically
prominent Evangelicals who make the news don't always represent the
broader community, and that there are many Evangelicals doing great
work that isn't politicized or publicized. Fair enough. But we now we
have the perspective of knowing the 81% of white Evangelicals
supported Donald Trump, and that they're willing to ignore all of his
ignoble behavior for the sake of political advantage. That's not
media shorthand, that's the facts.
There is a politicization, even a
hypocrisy, within the Evangelical Christian community that cannot not
be noted, but Wear doesn't note it. He takes their positions
completely at face value, including on the the question of “religious
freedom,” which to Evangelical Christians means the right to
practice their religion according to their conscience but to everyone
else means the right to discriminate against LGBT folks under the
guise of religion. Maybe that's not be putting if fairly, but it's
there, and it remains unmentioned by Wear.
Note this quote, about pulling away
from political parties not being the answer:
Withdrawal from
politics and our political parties is not the answer. The Republican
Party needs now more than ever Christians advocating from within for
a position, for example, on immigration reform that respects human
dignity and take the consequences of deportation on families
seriously. The Democratic Party needs now more than ever Christians
advocating from within for a recognition, say, that abortion is not a
moral good, that it is not how a just society addresses unintended
pregnancies, and that a respect for human dignity and a sense of
protecting the vulnerable extends to those not yet born.
Most mainstream Democratic politicians are well aware that abortion is a divisive issue, and few nationally prominent figures position abortion as a “moral good.” Obama himself, as Wear notes, instituted a strong framework of policies to limit abortion, and Bill Clinton talked incessantly about “safe, legal and rare.” But it is also clear that Democrats believe that abortion should not be illegal, that in most early-term cases it should be up to the woman's conscience, and that late term cases restrictions must have exceptions for the life of the mother and significant fetal abnormalities. If outreach to the faith community requires Democrats to adopt Kansans for Life's position on the issue, well, they'll be waiting a long time.
Rather than building an equivalency
between abortion and immigration, Wear could point out right-wing
Christians' obsession with abortion to the exclusion of all other
“ethic of life” issues, such as access to the social safety net
and healthcare by the “born” population. Or, you know, AR-15s.
What Evangelical Christianity has right now is an ethic of life that
ends at birth, and it's no wonder so many people are disgusted by it.
Wear could also take the opportunity to point out that Christians can
advocate for whatever they like but they shouldn't, and shouldn't
expect to, force their religious beliefs onto the rest of the
population. Yet that idea never even crosses his mind.
And this leads to my deeper critique of
the book: When Wear says “religion” or “faith” he means,
pretty much exclusively, white Evangelical Christianity. There are a
couple of mentions of black churches (in the context of them being
largely similarly socially conservative) or the Catholic hierarchy,
but from Wear's book you wouldn't know that there's any such thing as
Methodists or Lutherans, and word “Jewish” doesn't even appear in
the index. The over-identification of “faith” with Evangelical
Christianity is a big problem, both in the Christian world and in the
mainstream culture. Wear could have noted it; instead, he falls
victim to it.
But then this gets worse. The last part
of the book starts off with a chapter of Christian witness, including
a conversation between Te-Nehisi Coates and a Washington, DC, pastor
named Thabiti Anyabwile. The pastor says, essentially, you can either
believe in man or you can believe in Christ. “When Christ comes and
establishes his reign, there will be no more injustice, there will be
no more crime. Everything that has been crooked will be made
straight:
Coates followed
him right to that point and said, “I think what I'm left with here
is that those of us who don't necessarily share the same religious
belief are left without hope. Is that the upshot of what you're
offering?” Again, Anyabwile responded to earnestness with
earnestness, not dancing around the point, and told Coates, “I
think there is a sense in which that is true. That is just a sort of
unpleasant consequence of my line of reasoning.”
Wear quotes this approvingly, and this
is where I find the cross-purposes in the book. On one hand, Wear is
(or was) a Democratic functionary, and his role is to tell Democrats
why and how to do outreach to Evangelicals. On the other hand, Wear
is a Christian, believing in the living and returning Christ as the
only way to have authentic hope. This strikes me as really
inappropriate, especially coming from a public servant, especially a
public servant in the Obama administration.
One would hope that, as a politically
(as opposed to theologically) liberal Christian, Wear help coax his
co-religionists to a politics that is more in keeping with their core
values, perhaps by pointing out the inconsistencies in Christian
doctrine as it is currently applied in the public square. Maybe he
did that in his job, but we don't get much of it here. Instead, we
get Evangelical Christianity treated as given, as not only morally
right but theologically right, with any problems with Obama having to
do with his inauthenticity or his (partisan) refusal to accede to
Evangelical demands. Soul searching is required, but only from one
side. But this doesn't take into account the real damage that
politicized Evangelical Christianity is doing, both to the body
politic and to the cause of religion itself. And that is a topic Wear
doesn't broach.
The best way for progressives to reach
out to people of faith is not to cede the language of morality to
those who would use it as a bludgeon. Too many Democrats want to
forego moral framing, despite the great history in this country of it
being used for progress and social justice. This aversion is both
politically and morally counterproductive.
The answer is not to give in on important policy issues; neither
Bill Clinton nor Obama had to pander to the Christian right (although
Wear thinks Obama did pander on the issue of gay marriage), but they
did take pains to make people of faith feel that they were heard and
understood – and it made all the difference.
Politicized
Evangelical Christianity will continue to fade, as the country gets
more diverse and more and more people are turned off by its
domination, intolerance, and hypocrisy. But our alternative must
resonate with a moral framework that people continue to hold. The way
to encourage the additional 6% of white people that we need to win
national elections is not by pandering to them on abortion or gay
marriage (or worse, to racism or homophobia). It is to provide a
holistic ethic of justice and tolerance that appeals to our higher
values, our greater selves, however we identify religiously. That's
the way we can reclaim hope in this benighted era.