Recently I answered the call of Faithful America and local clergy to go to Batavia, New York, where white Christian nationalists were gathering for the ReAwaken America tour, headlined by Michael Flynn. 

What struck me first were multiple signs lining the driveway that read: “No Guns, No Knives.” Never in all my life have I seen any church that needed such a prominent reminder. The speakers at this Christian nationalist revival event used apocalyptic language to stoke the fears of thousands who had gathered there. The speeches touted anti-Semitic, racist, sexist and homophobic beliefs in the name of Christianity and were full of violent predictions of God’s vengeance befalling a wide range of political opponents. 

Soon after I went to Arizona to settle my son into college and I joined some friends in the area to deliver supplies to migrants crossing the border in a remote region. Everywhere I went I found border communities and migrants harassed by QAnon and militia conspiracists. A local restaurant we visited for lunch had even posted a sign that read:

UNWANTED: Members of any vigilante or Border militia group | Do Not Enter our establishment | The management

In both of these encounters, I was demoralized at seeing firsthand the threats of violence against our communities, but then heartened to find faith leaders mounting a vigorous response. 

In Batavia, local leaders held a well-covered press conference and rallied their people to counter the apocalyptic, hateful rhetoric spewing from white Christian nationalists.

In Arizona, faith-based volunteers on both sides of the border risked their own safety to deliver much needed support to migrant families in danger, even in the face of militia and QAnon threats.

What we are up against is part of an old, even ancient struggle.

Throughout American and European history, Christian scripture and traditions have been used to justify domination systems. White enslavers removed half of the Old Testament to create the Slave Bible in order to justify their sin by suppressing the story of God freeing Hebrew slaves in Egypt. A Lost Cause history and theology developed after the Civil War to justify slavery, restore white southern pride and justify segregationist policies. You can read more about this in Robert P. Jones’ book, White Too Long. Throughout the twentieth century, white Christians burned crosses on lawns to violently intimidate and threaten their Black and Jewish neighbors.

Despite this legacy of white Christian nationalism, faith based movements have always risen up to counter these heretical systems of domination. From Harriet Tubman and Sojourner Truth to Martin Luther King, Jr. and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and so many more, faith communities were critical to countering and dismantling this ungodly worldview and working toward a true vision of multi-faith, multiracial democracy.

What does this teach us? 

1. Tyrants must hijack faith in order to succeed in their goals. 
2. Overcoming tyranny requires the reclamation of faith and our sacred text.

Most white Christians have not been taught that the entire Bible is a handbook for resisting tyranny. 

For example, the creation story is a moral indictment of the creation myths of the ancient Near East which portrayed the gods as tyrants who created humans to be slaves. The Jewish creation story radically taught that God loved all of creation and made human beings in God’s own image–not to be slaves. This Jewish story laid the foundation for human rights and democracy, the best system for supporting our core value of human dignity (imago dei) for all. 

Many white Christians have gotten caught up in demanding that the story is an accurate, scientific account of how the earth was made, rather than marvel at the moral vision conveyed by this story. Our Christian faith teaches that all of us are created in God’s image and are worthy of dignity and respect. Therefore, we must advocate for a multi-faith, multiracial democracy that protects human dignity and ensures everyone can thrive. 

Today our faith and our dream of democracy are at stake, and both struggles are intertwined.

Our project of democracy is gravely threatened by white Christian nationalism deeply rooted in our nation’s history of slavery and segregation and Lost Cause Theology. Many candidates and elected leaders are embracing this ideology. Former White House officials are touring the country fanning the flames of violence and laying groundwork for a civil war in the name of an apocalyptic and violent version of Christianity, the very antithesis of what the faith stands for.

This heretical, anti-democratic movement may be gaining political prominence, but when we look at the numbers, those of us who believe in a multi-faith, multiracial democracy are in the majority. 

We must continue to organize to ensure that our faith and our democracy are not hijacked by white Christian nationalists.

When I see the threat white Christian nationalism poses to our elections, our communities and our freedoms, I’m reminded of the words of the prophet Habakkuk. 

“O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you “Violence!” and you will not save? Why do you make me see wrong-doing and look at trouble? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. So the law becomes slack and justice never prevails. The wicked surround the righteous– therefore judgment comes forth perverted.” (Habakkuk 1:2-4) 

How do we respond to violence and injustice around us? Habakkuk’s answer comes in the next chapter. 

“I will stand at my watchpost, and station myself on the rampart; I will keep watch to see what he will say to me, and what he will answer concerning my complaint. Then the LORD answered me and said: ‘Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so that a runner may read it. For there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie. If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay. Look at the proud! Their spirit is not right in them, but the righteous live by their faith.’” (Habakkuk 2:1-4)

Write the vision. Make it plain. Send it forth with a runner.

It is time we reclaim Scripture as a handbook for resisting tyranny. 

All social change starts with the imagination. Scripture gives us a vision and enables us to imagine a different world and thus make it so. It connects us to biblical heroes who confronted the Pharaohs and Caesars of their day and prevailed against all odds.

Scripture is also a powerful communication tool to reclaim the public narrative of who we should strive to be as a nation, a nation that upholds dignity and freedom for all God’s children, regardless of creed, race, faith tradition, sexuality or gender.

The separation of church and state does not preclude our speaking out, it instead urges us to enter debates to make our case even as we urge respect for all faiths and those of moral courage.

On November 8, we have an opportunity to make our vision plain. As people of faith, we must vote for candidates who are committed to create a world where everyone can thrive. We can take a step towards building a true multi-faith and multiracial democracy. 

We can also make our vision plain by keeping our elections free and fair. Report any voting challenges you witness at your polling place to the national election protection hotline by calling or texting 1-866-OUR-VOTE. Join Faith in Public Life in committing to uphold and expand our democracy in this election and beyond. 

We cannot cede the language of faith to anti-democratic and heretical forces to sway the vulnerable and capture the public imagination. It’s time to pray with our feet and our vote. 

This is our moment to reclaim our faith for justice; to write the vision, make it plain and send it forth into our communities. Our democracy depends on it.

 As a pastor, I fear this movement is not only a danger to our democracy, it is a threat to Christianity itself.

 Christian nationalism is not Christian. In fact, it is idolatry, violates God’s commandments, breaches freedom of religion, and claims innocent lives. Eighteen months later, despite what certain Members of Congress may claim, the Christian nationalist movement that helped fuel the Capitol Hill insurrection continues to kill. The white supremacist who slaughtered ten Black people at a grocery store in Buffalo, New York, is merely the latest to be driven to mass murder based on his belief in the “great replacement theory” which has strong roots in Christian nationalism. 

Christian nationalism leads Christians in the wrong direction, separating us from God’s vision of a world where all are treated with dignity. It is a heretical violation of the two greatest commandments in the Christian faith: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37-39 NRSV) 

 Christian nationalism is a form of idolatry, placing one so-called ethnic group, race and nationality ahead of God’s love for all of us. Scripture and the real Christian vision is bigger than the interests of our class, religious, national or ethnic group. Our liberating God calls us to build a society based on shared power around a moral vision of loving our neighbor and welcoming the stranger. 

 Instead, Christian nationalists advocate for laws that denigrate and roll back the rights of people who are not white, Christian, heterosexual or cisgender. They dare to cloak cruel policies in the guise of religious freedom when in reality these laws have nothing to do with religion or freedom. These laws codify hatred and deny God’s love for all humanity. And to be clear, these laws also violate the founding American principle of religious freedom itself for millions of Americans whose religious values, like Christianity, teach them to value each and every human being. 

 Christian nationalism refuses to take a clear-eyed view of history so that our children can learn from our mistakes and build a nation where all can flourish in all of our God-given diversity. It ignores the full story of the systematic exclusion of people of color, Native Americans, women, LGBTQ people and religious minorities from the benefits of our so-called democracy and our call in Matthew 22. Its propaganda leads to electing racist leaders to “make America great again” and claiming elections are stolen when voters of color turn out in record numbers to vote their values. 

 In the face of this clear and consistent warping of Christian faith, messages and values, it’s no wonder many are tempted to throw out faith altogether. When extremists co-opt the language of faith, it’s easy to believe that our democracy and society would be healthier and freer if religion was completely removed from public life. The answer is not to disengage from faith, but to engage deeper into our spiritual practices and guiding values. We have an opportunity and calling to reclaim faith from those who twist it to cause harm.

 For many of us, Christians and people from every faith, our faith is what motivates us to build an equitable democracy. Our shared values that honor human dignity urge us to build a world where every person can thrive.  We remember the multi-faith movements that have come before us, as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel marched with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. at Selma. I see it every day in my work as faith leaders welcome migrants at our borders and as people of faith show up with “Love Your Neighbor” signs to support in Islamic Center threatened by an appearance of a hate group on their day of worship. 

For people of all faiths and no faith we have an opportunity to dig deeper into our values, affirm the human dignity of each person and build a multi-faith, multiracial democracy where everyone has the freedom to thrive no matter where they were born, what they look like or how they worship. 

 Faith leaders are organizing against Christian nationalism. In 2019, the Baptist Joint Committee for Religious Liberty launched the Christians Against Christian Nationalism campaign. My organization, Faith in Public Life, is organizing multi-faith, multiracial faith leaders ahead of the midterm elections to protect our elections against the threats we saw in 2020. 

 More Christians must step up. We must do more than just watch the January 6th hearings aghast. We cannot allow our faith to continue to be hijacked by white supremacists covered in religious language. For the sake of our faith and our democracy, we must denounce Christian nationalism and reclaim a faith that values and affirms the human dignity of all people. Including our own.

However, January 6 was about more than political violence. It was an act of religious violence as well. Insurrectionists carried crosses, Christian flags, and banners that proclaimed “Jesus Saves”. Attackers held prayer circles on the Capitol grounds before storming the building. The Christian Nationalism that fueled January 6 is rooted in heresies. As Christians, we must reclaim our faith and defend our democracy by countering the lies of Christian Nationalism. 

Let’s unpack three of the heresies that uphold Christian Nationalism – and the antidotes we can find in Scripture. 

Heresy #1: Idolatry

Like the Israelites creating a golden calf in the image of Baal in Exodus 32, today people have melted down and recast God in the image of tyrants. Christian Nationalists have cast God as white, male, jingoistic, and American. This God is indistinguishable from the political leaders they swear allegiance to but bears no resemblance to the God of the Bible. Idolatry is the worship of that which leads us astray from God’s liberative plan for humanity. 

If we follow the God in the Bible, we follow a God who loves all of humanity, not just one particular race or country. Our vision is bigger than the interests of our class, religious, national, or ethnic group. This liberating God calls us to build a society based on shared power around a moral vision of loving our neighbor and welcoming the stranger. 

READ: Reflections from a Recovering Christian Nationalist Leading to the Anniversary of January 6th

Heresy #2: Lying About Our History to Glorify Ourselves

When you cast God in your own image, you can easily rewrite history with yourself as the hero. We have seen this whitewashing of American history since our nation’s inception. (This is why I refer to Critical Race Theory as “telling the truth about American history”.) When white Christians are hailed as the heroes, founders, and rightful owners of this country, we deny the full story of the systematic exclusion of people of color, Native Americans, women, LGBTQ+ people, and religious minorities from the benefits of our so-called democracy. This leads to the belief that electing white supremacists “makes America great again” and the belief that elections in which voters of color defeat white supremacists are “stolen elections.” Authoritarian rulers perpetuate these lies to exalt themselves and oppress the “other.” 

“Remember you were once slaves in Egypt and I freed you” is one of the most frequent commands throughout Scripture. The Ten Commandments and the rest of the Law follow this command to remember. God charges us to have historical empathy and remember and reflect on history through the eyes of God’s oppressed children. Confronting white supremacy and our role in sustaining such systems is an essential spiritual calling for white people in America today who seek to be faithful. The call to remember who you are and whom you serve is the spiritual discipline that enables us all to embrace truth and follow God rather than commit idolatry by giving unquestioning loyalty to an authoritarian. 

Heresy #3: Defiling the Image of Human Beings 

On January 6, coup participants erected a gallows outside the U.S. Capitol building. They carried Confederate flags through the rotunda. White supremacist, anti-semitic hate symbols were found throughout the crowd. The message was clear. 

All human beings are created in the image of God and have inherent dignity. It is the primary lesson of the Creation story in Genesis 2. Those who follow the God who calls creation good, who makes all in God’s image, will make space for dignity to take root and for hope to flourish. Recognizing human dignity is a spiritual practice. This practice requires us to root out every form of racism, anti-semitism, xenophobia, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and bigotry. Whenever we see a category of people dehumanized, we must move to interrupt. We need to practice in our congregations, in our communities, and through our policies. By embracing and expanding a vision of multiracial, multifaith democracy we can participate in this spiritual practice. 

It is poignant to me that January 6 is also Epiphany, the day we remember the Magi discovering Jesus and refusing to report his location to Herod. The Magi chose Jesus the liberator over and against Herod. To be faithful is to oppose tyrants and to embrace multiracial democracy.

Like the Magi, we have a choice in how we respond to the demands of authoritarianism. In the days surrounding the 2020 election, faith communities across the country jumped into action to ensure that every vote was counted and the will of the people was heard. We stepped up to defend our democracy, and we will do it again. This is where I find hope. Hope is not a prediction or assurance that everything will be okay. It is a commitment to imagine and work for a better future for God’s children. Surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, including the late Representative John Lewis, we have an opportunity this year to continue their work to build and protect a multiracial democracy. 

Defending our democracy requires accountability for those who have attempted to overthrow it. Take action today by signing onto this letter from Faith in Public Life and Faithful America to demand accountability for those who participated in and supported the attack on January 6. 

Accountability is necessary but not sufficient. We also need to pass pro-democracy legislation like the Freedom to Vote Act and the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act in order to ensure that no future attempts to overturn the will of the voters can succeed.

No matter our religion, race or party, most of us believe that we the people have a moral right to choose our leaders by free, fair and peaceful elections. Democracy is not inevitable. Our faith calls us to show up and defend it. 

For more information on how to reclaim Scripture as a handbook for resisting tyranny, check out Rev. Butler’s book, “Who Stole My Bible?”

Please also read the statement and join faith leaders in saying no to Christian nationalism. 

As President Biden, a practicing Catholic who speaks frequently of how his faith guides his public life, works to garner support among Republicans for the American Jobs Plan and the American Families Plan, I’m reminded of the story of the fishes and the loaves. Above all, it’s a tale about creating abundance, even amid seeming scarcity. It’s also a tale of deciding to feed everyone, even when it would be easier to tell the crowd they’re on their own for dinner.

Scarcity has been the name of the game for far too long in American politics. We are constantly offered a choice between which group of people is forced to go without, in the name of austerity: Should we cut Head Start for our toddlers or rental assistance for their parents? Times are tight, we are told—always. So go ahead and choose: who’s most deserving of that mouthful of fish or bread? Yet tax breaks for profitable corporations and the wealthiest aren’t subject to the same scrutiny.

The pandemic brought those false choices into stark relief, amid the very real and desperate choices working families were forced to make. When schools and childcare centers shut down, millions of parents (mostly women) “decided” to leave the workforce in order to take care of their children, or to attempt to do both, and feel like they’re failing their families and their employers. Either/or. Fail at one or fail at both. Take your pick.

READ: Blessing a Cultural Threshold

That’s why the Biden approach has been a welcome change in direction, one that privileges abundance over scarcity, one that says we all should have a life of dignity and flourishing. No matter what we look like, where we live, or how we earn a living, we all deserve to rest assured at the end of the day that the people we love have everything they need.

Politicians like to say that a budget shows your values. Well, if so, the budget plan President Biden just submitted to Congress, as well as the American Jobs and Families Plan, says he believes every person is worth investing in. The plan will make the essential infrastructure of family life — childcare, school, and healthcare — more affordable. It creates good jobs and better pay in workplaces from construction sites to daycare providers. And it lays a new foundation on everything from roads to bridges to clean energy to broadband. It all gets funded by stopping the wealthiest few from dodging their fair share of taxes. That’s a plan that will help get us back on the right track, and lay the foundation for what we call a “holy recovery”—an economic recovery that’s experienced by all of us, in which we all enjoy that sense of abundance, rather than facing constant and impossible economic dilemmas.

Now it’s Congress’ turn to embrace the holy recovery, though we’d ask them and President Biden to go one step further: Don’t just pass a budget that prioritizes the wholeness of our communities (admittedly a great first step). Ensure that those values, and that progress, don’t take a backseat to the name of “bipartisanship”– and especially in the name of a deal with lawmakers who aren’t playing in good faith.

On that note, all of us have a role, not just Congress: We all have a vested interest in an economy that works for everyone, and we all should be vocal in advocating for one. Like a chorus, when we lift our voices together, we create an inspiring message that cannot be ignored. By speaking out as one, we will create momentum and pressure for a holy recovery.

God’s words to the Israelites in the Book of Isaiah are quite poignant to me as our slide into tyranny has halted (at least for now). Isaiah spoke at a time when Israel had been divided by civil war and utterly destroyed by the Babylonian invasion. Its elite were carried into exile, its Temple razed to the ground. The civil war which weakened Israel had been caused by growing inequality and injustice under Solomon’s rule. God had forewarned that by following the path to empire the people would find themselves once again enslaved, this time by their own ruler. But after all of this devastation, God brought a message of blessing:

“I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”

In the wake of four years of racist, tyrannical rule built upon the structural sin of white supremacy, this forward-looking passage is inspiring me to meditate on how God is calling us to live into moral leadership at this moment. Here are a few ways to heed the call:

1. “Do a new thing”—First, resist the temptation to look at this moment as a return to some kind of pre-Trump normalcy. The past four years were the bad fruit borne of a tree of racism, injustice and selfishness. The new thing springing forth must be not a restoration, but a truly new justice movement that builds a beloved kingdom. That means bold reordering, not tinkering at the margins, when it comes to public policy and how we organize ourselves. We cannot settle for merely having diverse leadership at the table. Faith leaders of color must be at the center, setting political agendas. When the privileged lead, privilege is protected. We saw this in the Women’s Suffrage Movement’s racism. Doing a new thing means new leadership while remaining one body.

READ: William Barr and the Politics of Death

2. “Make a way in the wilderness” —Blaze political and cultural trails as a faith movement. Don’t leave justice work in the hands of elected officials or celebrity activists. At the local, state, and federal levels, we should drive change rather than merely supporting politicians’ efforts. The Poor People’s Campaign has been doing this kind of work and did not let the results of the 2016 election stop them. Centering the moral call to not just work for marginal change, but rather to set a transformational agenda, has changed the way political leaders talk about economic justice and paved the way for policies that just a few years ago were thought of as far too ambitious, such as a $15 minimum wage. In the face of potentially difficult environments, we must have the courage to boldly make a path where none is visible.

3. “Make rivers in the desert”—Spread your fellowship and resources to people who lead justice fights. Locally-based organizations and emerging leaders often lack the resources to get off the ground. This is especially true of ministries and movements that serve the most marginalized people’s needs. For instance, harm reduction for people who use drugs not only saves lives, but also treats people with dignity and interrupts the unjust cycle of incarceration.Yet congregations who host or fund such work are few and far between. Opening our checkbooks and our doors to efforts like this will allow justice to roll like a mighty stream.

4. “Do you not see it?”— The reality of deeply entrenched white supremacy and failed leadership from sore losers can be anxiety-inducing and discouraging. So remember that all change starts with the imagination. Let’s train ourselves spiritually to look for God on the move in big and small ways. We follow a God who hates tyranny; who continually leads leads people in exodus journeys in defiance of authoritarianism. Lift up a vision of who we can be, and are becoming.

As the Trump administration comes to a flailing, pathetic end, we face a real test of faith. Our old ways were inadequate and often defied God’s call to justice and community. Yet God has delivered us and allowed us a chance to do a new thing. Let us go forth!

As Americans march on Washington to declare that Black Lives Matter, white supremacist terrorists gun down protesters, 1000 Americans die of COVID-19 daily, and the Republican National Convention reduces the party platform to borderline idolatrous veneration of a white supremacist president who condones it all, we can’t make the mistake of treating this year like any other election. We are at a crossroads, and there is no turning back.

President Trump won a plurality of white women voters in 2016, despite a litany of sexist remarks and credible accusations of sexual assault. Meanwhile, 94% of Black women voters cast their ballots for Hillary Clinton. While this massive racial gap will not be closed altogether, I believe we’ll see millions more white women vote for Joe Biden and Senator Kamala Harris than supported the Democratic ticket in 2016.

The president’s racially coded language targeting white suburban women with appeals to “law and order” is a relic from an earlier, whiter era of American politics. While it still has an audience, a recent poll showed Democratic nominee Joe Biden with a 16-point lead among women. Running mate Senator Kamala Harris, the first African-American woman to be nominated for VP, will provide steady and forceful reminders of President Trump’s misogyny between now and November 3rd.

READ: Faith and Politics: Which Guides the Other? 

Faith must always come before partisan loyalties, but let’s be frank about the differences in values between the Republican and Democratic parties in 2020. As I watched the Republican convention and have listened to President Trump’s rhetoric ever since, the constant stoking of white Christian fear and resentment was inescapable. One convention speaker, Nikki Haley, outright denied America’s racism. President Trump has called Black Lives Matter a “symbol of hate” while offering no condemnation of the 17-year-old, Kyle Rittenhouse, who murdered two Black Lives Matter supporters in Kenosha, Wisconsin.

It’s no secret that American churches have long been divided along politically treacherous fault lines: liberal vs conservative, white supremacy vs anti-racism, patriarchy vs egalitarianism—to name just a few. But I see more and more faithful women coming together. While politicians and our male pastors often divide communities for their own benefit, we are uniting for a truly pro-family, pro-justice politics.

I see it directly in my work at Faith in Public Life Action. As a national network of faith leaders, we recently launched the Women of Faith 2020 platform, an agenda signed by over a hundred of the most prominent women faith leaders in the nation.

Together, we’ve taken clear and unifying stances on issues that have divided the nation: the health care system, reproductive rights and women’s health, LGBTQ equality, immigration, climate change, and the often-ignored issue of disability rights. It is time we take a compassionate moral approach to these issues to secure our children’s futures.

From the nomination of an African-American running mate to faith outreach to constituencies as diverse as Latinx evangelicals and white Catholics, I see signs that the Biden campaign will not take racially diverse women of faith for granted.

It doesn’t surprise me to see polls showing white evangelical Christian women drifting away from the party of Trump, toward his overwhelming disapproval among women of color. A recent poll by the conservative American Enterprise Institute showed a 13-point gender gap, with 76 percent of white evangelical men approving of the president, compared to 63% of white evangelical women.

In the final stretch of a presidential election year, it would be easy to pour all of our spiritual energy into the same type of politics that has failed and torn this nation apart for so long. That would be a mistake. So what is the rock upon which we can build a more faithful and moral politics?

We can start by demanding more of ourselves. We need to do our homework about the injustices in our communities and make informed decisions about how our political choices either heal or deepen these wounds. We should seek true liberation and wholeness, rather than splitting the difference between the political parties. As women of faith in a nation at the crossroads, we will lead the nation to a healthier, more just future.

“Together, apart, together,” I thought, repeatedly blinking water away and trying to come to terms with why this made me weep.

“Look, the woman in that colorful wide brim hat. The man with a long white beard. The couple squeezed together around the mic,” I exclaimed. My litany of praise tumbled out, heard only by my sleepy teen and dog Auggie.

What I saw: people in kitchens, bedrooms, backyards. Lives confined to a tiny box on my screen. Lives made separate in pandemic. Lives still harmonizing their voices in the hope and joy of resurrection. Hundreds of voices, each small and far apart, doing their best to share the love of God. Together, apart, together.

My fear and sadness were present—all of us reduced to cubes on a screen. But as they joyfully sang (a national choir scattered, yet together)I found hope. An Imperial crucifixion and tomb could not hold Jesus, nor will a pandemic hold back our love for each other that gives us hope for a better future.

There are days for weeping. Please allow time to mourn. So too there are days—maybe just minutes—for rejoicing. Find some good no matter how small. Both are important. The good is less likely to stick, given how our reptilian brains function. So cry out the brokenness, and try to savor and dwell on whatever wholeness you see. Allow your heart to breathe and expand in it. This week I am living into resurrection with the image of those singing “cubes,” souls actually, unbound.

Czech poet and human rights activist Vaclav Havel wrote from a Soviet prison, “Hope is not a prognostication. It is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart; it transcends the world as immediately experienced, and is anchored beyond the horizons.” We do not know what the future holds. But we commit to love and hope. The man wrote this from a prison cell. His movement for freedom looked bleak.

I am accustomed in crisis to rushing to the scene of the crime and shouting “NO!” I want to fix things. Now I can no longer protest in this way. My hands are tied.

READ: Pandemic, Not Pomp and Circumstance

A can-do family member resentful of stay-at-home orders told me bitterly, “It is unsettling that there is a crisis and the best solution experts can come up with is to stay home and hide.”

And yet, what we can do together even while separate! In Wisconsin all attempts to corrupt an election for a state Supreme Court judgeship by mandating the election be held in a pandemic were foiled by brave citizens showing up—together, apart—in long socially-distanced lines risking life and limb for freedom.

Like seeds in the ground waiting for the sun to return, we continue to bring life. Apart, yet together.

Many have remarked that we will never be the same again. In what way will we be different, I wonder. Will we be atomized, balkanized, afraid? Or will we become more compassionate, more connected and expansive?

A Sikh leader celebrating Vaisakhi said: “Normally you only interact with your own individual communities, you know your local communities, but coming to the convention center program, you’re just reminded of how much bigger the community is and how supported and how fortunate we are to be part of that community.”

Says the poet Dr Gonzalo Sánchez-Terán:

“The man who returns from the desert/ never looks at a glass of water again/

When we finally get to hug/let’s not return to each other/

with the same look, the same verb,/same heart, same arms.

When we hug again, the morning/ full of kisses, tears, caresses,

let our arms be new arms,

wiser, more clement, more human”

This crisis in some ways demands more of us than a war, a natural disaster or political crisis. The one thing most of us can do is protect and love each other by waiting in the quiet soil, hoping that in due time we will spring forth more connected and committed. Perhaps this is a time to learn that even the smallest of acts can lead to a revolution.

Our love knows no bounds. Together, yet apart, but together we will come through—hopefully more powerful and wise, more grateful and connected than before.

As pastors, we do not say this lightly: These churches are not only disregarding the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, CDC, guidelines, endangering the public, and thwarting containment of the coronavirus; they are throwing out the Christian Gospel.

READ: The Strangest Lent

Jesus commanded followers to love God with all of our heart, soul, strength and mind, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Gathering in intentional defiance of public safety recommendations does not love God and is a clear refusal to love our neighbors — all of whom are susceptible to Covid-19. Even if we wash our hands and feel healthy, gathering together still puts everyone in danger: ourselves, our families, and especially our elderly and other vulnerable populations.

Fortunately, President Trump has backtracked on his pronouncement to “pack the churches by Easter”. Yet some Christian institutions might still be tempted. After all, this time of year is especially difficult for non-profits who rely exclusively on donor giving and Easter Sunday has among the highest attendance of the year. But church gatherings place our whole nation in even more danger and miss the entire point of the Gospel in which God has charged every one of us to care for our neighbors, particularly those who are vulnerable. All of us are needed to halt the spread of this deadly, historic pandemic.

During times like these, people of faith need each other more than ever. In fact, it’s almost an oxymoron for Christians to be separated because when Christians are at our best, we embody God’s radical hospitality and bring diverse groups of people together to create the Beloved Community. Yet, to keep each other safe, we must choose to create a different kind of intentional community. We must remain physically separated and practice social distancing precisely because we see each other as children of God with inherent worth and dignity.

Around the world, Christians are observing the season of Lent. During Lent, we remember when Jesus social distanced himself from everyone. In the wilderness, he was tempted to live for comfort, money, and power, but chose the path of faithfulness to God. We can see these temptations playing out in our context today, and we have a leader who sees these temptations as personal aspirations. President Trump wants people to feel false comfort, ignore his inattentiveness to COVID-19 warnings from his experts, continue to line big corporations and his bank accounts, and most of all, he wants to stay in power come November. While the President does not recognize these as evil tempters threatening the very soul of our nation, Christians must name the tempters that we see, hold our leaders accountable, and choose the path of obedience to God, as Jesus did.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus reminds his followers that wherever two or three are gathered in his name he is there among them.  Surely, these words apply to the digital world. If we remember that Christ is present with us even during this time of physical separation, we can develop deeper relationships with one another even across cyberspace. So while the coronavirus has forced faith communities to embrace the digital world, whether we wanted to or not, it is an opportunity for the Church to do what it does when it’s at its best: foster authentic relationships amongst a diverse group of people. With a bit of effort and a lot of intentionality, congregations can continue to gather online. No, it’s not the same as in-person worship, but congregations can still create true community and deepen faith.  In fact, this time of isolation could well be an opportunity for churches to welcome new people who are searching for more connection and deeper relationships.

We must care for our most vulnerable neighbors, just as Jesus did. When Jesus denied temptation in the wilderness, he showed us by example how to live. When Jesus told us to love our neighbors as ourselves, he meant it. If the purpose of worship is to glorify God and embody God’s Reign on earth, physically gathering during this time does neither. Meeting each Sunday and talking about Jesus does no good if we don’t actually listen to the words he spoke. There are times when staying away from each other is the faithful thing to do. This is one of those times and to not do so is violating the intent of our faith.

We must listen to medical experts who are telling us how to flatten the curve of the Covid-19 pandemic. We must demand that our leaders do the same and we must resist temptations to disregard these warnings in our own lives. This pandemic might just prove whether we really deserve to meet for worship once this crisis has passed.

Compared to previous election cycles, Democratic contenders have connected their policies to religious values and reached out to communities of faith. In New Hampshire, Bernie Sanders spoke profoundly about how his Jewish faith shapes his world view. In Iowa, Joe Biden spent time with Catholic nuns who serve undocumented immigrants. Elizabeth Warren and Pete Buttigieg have both cited the Gospel of Matthew as inspiration for their commitment to supporting marginalized people.

As a pastor, a progressive, and the head of a network of 50,000 faith leaders, I find this encouraging. But every candidate needs to speak with greater moral force about this dark moment of history. President Trump has inflamed and harnessed hate more effectively than any president in U.S. history. If you think these are remotely normal times, visit a synagogue or a mosque, or a church that serves undocumented immigrants. People fear for their lives, for very good reason.

It’s been clear for a long time that President Trump’s hateful rhetoric, cruel policies, personal corruption and abuse of power represent a steady advance of tyranny. But February might turn out to be the darkest month of his presidency. On February 22nd, the recently announced expansion of the Muslim Ban is scheduled to take effect, barring immigration from six additional countries, including Nigeria — the most populous country in Africa. His newly released federal budget proposal cuts Medicaid by $844 billion. Mr. Trump is accelerating the cruelty of his policies following his impeachment, not restraining himself or playing it safe. The impact of his agenda will be measured in lives lost and families torn apart.

And he’s explicitly attacking the religion of political leaders who dare to oppose him. At the National Prayer Breakfast last week following the conclusion of his Senate trial for abuse of power, he disparaged the faith of House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and Senator Mitt Romney, both of whom had the moral courage to hold him accountable for attacking our democracy. He mocked the very notion of praying for political rivals.

READ: Faith Leaders Lament the Muslim Travel Ban

Because tyrants seek to be the arbiters of truth and dominate every aspect of a nation’s life, they try to co-opt religion. They cannot abide the existence of an authority higher than their own. And if they can’t co-opt faith, they marginalize it and stamp it out. This is as true today as it was in Stalin’s Soviet Union and the Holy Land under Roman rule.

Inspired by the prophets who condemned greed and oppression in ancient Israel, people of faith today raise a moral cry to deliver this nation from tyranny. People of all faiths have rallied to defeat the Muslim ban, both in the courts and in the streets. Dozens of pastors, including me, were arrested the first time President Trump tried to take people’s health care away, and we’re ready to do it again. Rabbis, pastors, and everyday people of faith have put our bodies in the way of Border Patrol and ICE agents. We shelter undocumented immigrants in our congregations to shield them from deportation.

I don’t expect the 2020 Democratic candidates to put their bodies on the line during the primary, but they need to ratchet up their moral urgency and tap into the power of sacred stories. The Bible is a handbook for resisting tyranny, from Moses’s defiance of Pharaoh to Jesus reframing the law to outmaneuver those who oppressed the sick and poor.

As President Trump aspires to be a modern Pharaoh, I hear campaigns respond to the rise of tyranny with messages about policy, or focused-grouped platitudes about a brighter future. It brings to mind the words of the prophet Jeremiah: “They dress the wounds of my people as if they were not serious. Peace, peace, they say when there is no peace.”

You cannot defeat evil with a stump speech. The darkness of this moment requires a brighter light. As people, pastors and prophets do the work of justice, we need political leaders to show us that they understand the stakes and will not shy away from telling the whole truth.

(This piece originally appeared at Patheos.)