Faith and Politics
We Also Could Have Said Nothing
I think Jesus would have waited at least three days to post his thoughts on the conspiracy
A cursory scan of American history and pop culture would give you a reasonable understanding of the general public’s reactions to the successful assassination of President Kennedy and the attempted assassination of President Reagan. For both, those moments back in 1963 and 1981, respectively, recorded for us to watch again and again today, were solemn and serious affairs. In the case of Kennedy, an adequate depiction of how most Americans were feeling on that day might be found in the famed clip of an obviously shocked Walter Cronkite — removing his glasses, making the pronouncement of Kennedy’s death, putting his glasses back on, pausing, fidgeting with his glasses some more, and then continuing with his report. It was a somber tone.
It is possible that there were people at the time who made light of the news of these two men being shot — certainly we now have plenty of examples of people making jokes about them — but, ultimately, the events were taken seriously and gave the American public pause.
The lack of Internet, social media, and cellphones make comparing the events of Kennedy’s and Reagan’s assassinations to Trump’s assassination attempt seemingly impossible, but it is difficult to watch how our country and society handled Kennedy and Reagan at the time and how we are handling Trump now and not grieve the lack of respect shown for human dignity and life.
I don’t say this for the private thoughts we all had on Saturday, July 13th, immediately following the news. This isn’t about the conversations shared with friends and family in the aftermath of it. And I don’t take showing respect to human dignity to mean we can’t talk of death or the complexities of the truth in front of us, even if it leads us to humorous places. I very much think we should do that.
We are also creatures that can hold in our minds and our hearts both a grief and a joke. And we live in ridiculous times. The last 8 years have been comical, cinematic, and disingenuous. It’s been playing out like the movie version of a historical event, as opposed to the actual historical event.
So, if you made a joke about Trump’s death (or Biden’s) or quickly delved into conspiracies with those close to you and those you trusted, that fits well into the sentiment and practices of today. It should not be surprising to us that many would have lacked a seriousness concerning the situation. To be appalled by that lack of seriousness is a failure to understand reality and people.
It’s possible things were said that were over the line or were unnecessary, but, I imagine, for most family and friend groups, they oscillated between the humor and the solemn with ease. Even those who did not have much sympathy to offer Trump probably at some point contemplated life and death, either fearing for their own or fearing for democracy and society or wondering what could of have happened or mourning for the family of the man who died and the other individuals who were wounded.
The point is that, in private, which I use to describe the world outside of social media and the Internet, we are able to freely and more easily acknowledge the dual realities of the moment, which is the truth that jokes can be made while still appreciating that life is precious.
Life is precious.
I think that’s what everyone wanted to say.
Either in their rejection of political violence or in their praise of God’s providence, I think most people who posted something or wrote an opinion piece were grappling with their understanding of life and death. Even those who posted memes — some of which were quite funny — or conspiracy videos and pictures and threads, were dealing with it all in their own way. With the number of likes garnered by some of these posts, it’s hard to say that they didn’t strike the right chord with many in the country.
Others were trying to figure out how to continue on and navigate through this. Because the truth of the situation is that a presidential candidate who has been intentionally antagonistic, has brazenly flaunted his disregard for societal and political norms, and who has failed to discourage violence was shot at while in the course of engaging in a normal democratic event.
If he had been more likeable, more normal, less bombastic, less mean, then we might not feel the tension that we do. A tension of sympathy and disgust. We know we should feel sympathy, that we should take a moment to breathe and appreciate that it was not worse for the people involved or for our country, but that is difficult to do when it concerns him. He hasn’t made it easy. If it had been Mitt Romney or John McCain, maybe it wouldn’t be like this.
But it is like this. So what do we do? How do we respond?
How did we respond?
On that Saturday, we were all presented with options of what to do and how to act, even if we weren’t aware of it. I don’t think many of us were. We just reacted. But in our quick reaction, we failed to see one of the options that I think might have been the better choice.
In the aftermath of the attempted assassination of former president Donald Trump, we had the choice to say nothing. We could have said nothing. Maybe we should have said nothing.
I am aware that we don’t live in a time and culture where saying nothing is normal. It seems that everyone must say something, and, if you don’t, you are either uncaring, uninformed, stupid, or a part of the problem.
But saying nothing was still an option, and there were many of us who should have said nothing. There were jokes that were unnecessary. Insensitive at best, destructive to discourse and healing at worst.
The conspiracies were extravagantly unhelpful. Most were presented by those without knowledge and by those who have a skewed view of the world anyway. They did nothing for anyone.
There were those looking to put themselves forward. Politicians, writers, journalists, celebrities, and others who have incentive to put their faces and words out there. For some, it is their job to speak on such issues and to offer their insights, but most of them weren’t saying anything we didn’t already know.
Then there were the thought and spiritual leaders who tried to offer guidance as to how to think about the assassination and how to respond. To some degree, every group I’ve mentioned is doing this, but this subset desires to offer their “wisdom” for the good of their readers and listeners, hoping to influence them to see and understand as they do. For many of them, they have been doing it so long and have so many “followers”, they believe it is their duty to speak up and guide the lost. It is these people the most that I wish they had said nothing. Or at least had waited a few days.
I have nothing against them offering their insights, guidance, and opinions, but I know — I think they know too — that time is one of the best refiners of our understanding. As humans, our initial reactions can be good but they are rarely best. Time and waiting allow our brains (and hearts and souls) to process and make better sense of our thoughts and our feelings. Will it completely change them? Usually not. But it will often help us to find better words and better ways of explaining.
Time also creates space for everyone involved. That space can make room for clarity and, hopefully, grace. We need grace. A lot of it. For ourselves and for each other. When we speak too quickly, we can act without grace and others might be less likely to give it to us. Essentially, we may say things we didn’t want to say, shouldn’t say, or would say a little differently.
The first three groups — jokers, conspirators, and faces — are not exempt from pleas to say nothing, but they also rarely present themselves as bastions of morality. They can, but they do not seek that role as many in the fourth group do.
Take Albert Mohler as an example. He’s the president of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. I don’t know how he views himself in the public space, as a moral leader or something else, but he puts himself out there in non-Christian spaces a lot and by the nature of his position, he takes a role as moral leader for those who respect him and seek his wisdom.
On July 14th, one day after the attempted assassination of Trump, Mohler published an article titled “Providence and presidents” on the website WORLD.
It is about what you would expect from a theologically and socially conservative leader who has been a supporter of Donald Trump for his past work to secure conservative justices on the Supreme Court, in hopes of dismantling abortion rights. One could tear the piece down and explain why Mohler is wrong, but that is not my point here. I don’t agree with Mohler on every thought, but I don’t think he is “wrong” in the sense of what that has come to mean in our culture — morally reprehensible and dangerous.
But I do wish Mohler had said nothing. Or at least had waited. Mohler makes the claim that it was not simply luck that kept the bullet from striking Trump in the head but must be the providence of God.
“The reality of God’s providence is something many Americans, and no doubt many Christians, think about with far too little seriousness. But I dare to ask, how do you look at yesterday’s events in Butler, Pa., and see it all merely as a lucky miss? If that’s all there is to it, our luck will one day run out. Thank God that day was not yesterday.” — Albert Mohler
If you survey ten Christians from different parts of the world or of just America — or even in just one church — you would probably get several answers as to their understanding of God’s providence. Most would give some indication that God is actively working in our world, but not all would agree that God directed the path of that bullet to miss Trump (as if he was some superhero waiting in the background). And not all would say that God willed the whole affair with the specific intention of creating some “anointing” moment for Trump (as if God was Republican).
Mohler is welcome to believe both of those ideas. I don’t. I think they can be harmful to the witness of Jesus and a potential misunderstanding of who God is. Mohler can have his interpretations, but I think his choice to write this article, use these words, and present these ideas in this way was unwise.
I wish he would have waited. I wish he would have sat with the article for a few more days, gone over it with someone he trusted and who isn’t quick to agree with him. I wish he would have thought more deeply about how he structured his premise that led to a conclusion that appears to assign divine right to an individual. I wish he would have considered more the life of Corey Comperatore and how the claim of God’s providence saving Trump and not Corey reads on the paper and how it would be received. I think much of this he would have been able to consider if, at least at first, he had said nothing.
This isn’t about Mohler. He is not alone in his quick response. Mohler was just one of the first that I came across who presented an idea that has been repeated by numerous other conservative Christians. And this isn't about an individual or a party. This is about all of us being too quick to speak. We’re deceived by the age of this world into thinking that our voice should be heard and be heard immediately. We’re deceived into thinking we only matter if we say something and someone is listening. And the thought leaders and spiritual leaders, who should know better and do better, also fall into this deception. And their failure in this area is far worse than many of the jokes and memes that were shared.
We are all looking for someone to guide us, to teach us, to help us make sense of this life as we are are living it now so it is not surprising to me that people find their “champion” on their favorite podcast or app or news source and that these champions feed off of this attention and come to believe that they must speak on every single issue and speak on it with certainty and swiftness.
But in terms of champions, thought leaders, and teachers, we, as Christians, make the claim that Jesus is our best guide and best teacher. He is our Lord. No one else and nothing else. We follow his example, and we do things in the way that he would do them, as best we can.
And I think Jesus would have said nothing.
Nothing on Saturday. Nothing on Sunday. Nothing on Monday. Maybe even a couple more days after that. People would have asked him. Even those who didn’t like him knew he was the best and the smartest and they wanted to hear what he had to say. So, I think he would have left. I think he would have escaped and secluded himself away from everyone. I think he would give himself time to pray, to think, and to mourn.
Then he would come back. And if he had something to say, he’d say it. Would it be that much different than what he would have said on Saturday? Maybe not. But he took time to think, to talk to God, and to give himself and everyone space. And it may have been hard what he had to say, but it would have been full of grace and truth.
I obviously don’t know for sure that Jesus would have done that. But if not saying anything immediately after the attempted assassination of a former president in the year 2024 in our current political culture and climate seems crazy to you — it does to me — then I think I’m probably on the right track.
This isn’t about never saying anything. I’m speaking now. We are told to be slow to speak, not never speak. Even if Mohler and everyone had posted their jokes and conspiracies and commentaries and think pieces a day later, what would it be like? What if we’d spent an additional 24 hours remembering Corey, taking stock of our lives, figuring out the right words to say to each other, wondering about what we mean by “turning down the temperature”, facing the reality of political violence in America, letting law enforcement do their investigations and release appropriate information, and letting the words in our head stew for a little longer, praying to God to help us and to light the way?
What would it have been like?
