To My Apolitical Friends, It's Time You Got Political

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To those who believe I’m too loud, too opinionated, too political—I get it.

Growing up, I was taught to avoid talking about politics and religion in mixed company (whatever that was). In my younger days, I made it a point never to vilify groups en masse or to demonize individuals in leadership outright whenever speaking about the events of the day.

Even in the most challenging of times, I always lived and spoke with the assumption that most people were good, that the majority of Americans would default to decency over party, and that our systems of checks and balances would keep us from veering too far into violent extremism. I always believed that the center would hold.

In my twenty-five years as a local church pastor, I did my best to keep matters of politics at arm's length for fear of alienating the people in my care. I was careful to stay safely in the center, never choosing partisan sides, always playing devil's advocate, which turns out to be a really lousy position for a minister. That middle place can actually be the spot where you lose your soul. You can think you're hearing all perspectives when you're really sitting on the fence of cowardice. It's a place of privilege that slowly anesthetizes you into neutrality and silence.

Friends, neutrality and silence are literally deadly right now.

This President (empowered by a morally neutered Republican Party and a fully politicized Evangelical Church) is doing irreparable and continual harm to our rule of law, our standards of decency, our environment, our personal liberties, our elections, our people, and our standing in the world.

We are in a time of unprecedented betrayal of the freedoms and systems we all hold dear; a wholesale soul-selling of Republican politicians and Conservative Christian leaders; a historic power grab the likes of which we've never seen in this country.

These days, being apolitical is being complicit in these atrocities.

Because of the volume and the relentlessness of this President's cruelty, there must be a similarly passionate and compassionate response.
Because each morning a different attack comes: on migrants or meal vouchers or national parks or transgender soldiers or Jewish Americans or journalists or shooting victims—then each morning there must be those of us who unequivocally oppose it all.
This Administration is testing how much inhumanity the people will tolerate, and saying nothing only emboldens them to seek a deeper moral bottom.

As long as this man and his cadre of sycophants continue to shun their responsibility, horde wealth, preach fear, prey upon the vulnerable, serve no one but themselves, and weaponize religion, the voices of dissent must be relentless and explicit.

And look, I get it: it’s terrifying to admit what’s happening right now. No one wants to believe their nation is falling into authoritarianism, that the norms they relied on in the past are no longer givens, that the “can’t happen here’s” are actually happening here. It’s sickening to fully fix your gaze on the terror unfolding by the hour. But the slide into the abyss will not be slowed or stopped by wishing it away, hiding from the horrors, or clinging to the dead myth of American exceptionalism.

I'm not going to apologize for saying what I believe needs to be said, because I think the people who are threatened right now are worth it. It's really that simple.

Remaining quiet in turbulent times is a luxury that perceived privilege and intellectual ignorance afford. That passivity is born out of the illusion of safety. (Trust me, none of us is safe.)
The greatest responsibility people of morality, faith, and conscience have is to leverage that privilege for the common good.
I want to look back at the end of my life and know that I did all I could to protect diversity, equality, and justice.

You think I've gotten too loud.
I believe you've grown frighteningly quiet.
You believe I'm too opinionated.
I think you're still trying to straddle the fence.
You say I've gotten too political.
I know I've become more human.

We need more humanity right now. I hope you’ll show yours.