It’s October in the city, and the flow of shoppers is already hampered by the soon-to-be-open Christmas market. Its construction is presided over by three thoroughly miserable wooden effigies of Santa Claus. They’re certainly not designed to fill anyone with delight at the prospect of the festive season.
Signs of stress are everywhere, but nowhere more so than on the face of the preacher who’s waving a battered Bible at the oblivious crowd, whilst assuring us we’re all going to hell. I turn to catch a photograph, and realise the illuminated sign behind him is displaying an advertisement for Call of Duty – Black Ops. It feels oddly appropriate, given that his vitriol is giving the three grumpy Santas a proper run for their money.
Further on, and another street preacher is also doing his best induce guilt and depression. He’s taken it on himself to berate the motley crowd of drinkers, addicts and homeless people who inhabit the benches outside Tesco’s. He seems even angrier than the first guy, and I guess if his anger was directed at a society that leaves vulnerable people to fend for themselves in the midst of an ever-shrinking support network I might have some empathy. Instead he’s telling people already living hell on earth that they’re going to spend eternity there, which would seem both cruel and counter-productive if anyone was actually listening.
Maybe the level of cruelty in religion has always been the same, and it’s simply my current anxiety about the election in the USA that’s brought it into focus. After all, I was once thrown out of a church for having too much compassion, amongst other personal failings. Even so, I find it hard to get my head around evangelical Christians who are willing to throw in their lot with a lifelong philanderer, blatant racist, misogynist and convicted fraudster who’s shown no signs of remorse or repentance. I know God forgives, but I think the deal is we’re supposed to show some kind of willingness to change. Instead, Christianity these days seems to be regarded as a personal get out of jail free card. Any two-bit celebrity can wave their new-found faith in the face of their detractors and claim immunity from the consequences of their actions. Or in the case of a contender for the US presidency, skip the faith bit and persuade their disciples that they’re the second coming of Christ.
This last I find completely unfathomable. I’m not one to cry blasphemy, but the Jesus I’ve loved for more than half a lifetime has nothing but human form in common with the purveyor of fear and hate who took centre stage at Madison Square Gardens on Sunday night. I don’t often throw around quotes from the Bible in public these days, but I was under the impression that the fruit of the Spirit was ‘love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control’ (Galatians 5 v 22-23). There didn’t seem to be much of that on display at a rally whose attendees greeted a disgusting slur against the island of Puerto Rico, its inhabitants and the Latino population in general with rapturous applause.
From the relative safety of this side of the Atlantic, I’m growing more and more conscious of the partisan nature of American politics. On the one hand there’s Kamala Harris and Tim Walz presenting sound policy, reasoned discussion, intelligence, warmth and integrity, their campaign marked by a joyfulness wholly absent from their opponents’ rallies. While I may not agree with Harris on every detail, there is at least some compassion, humanity and optimism to her politics, all of which are starkly absent in her opponent.
George Monbiot, writing in today’s Guardian, says
‘Never underestimate the vengeful nihilism at the heart of this movement. The glitter-eyed fanatics behind Project 2025 and other such programmes will smash whatever is most precious to you, partly at the behest of commercial interests – but also to enjoy the pain it inflicts. They will crush beauty, joy, community and hope precisely because other people value them’
Indeed, Trump has made no secret of his thirst for revenge against anyone who fails to offer him full fealty. His political campaign has been marked by threats to the extent that almost everyone on the planet might have just cause to fear his ascent to power. Yet somehow the show goes on.
In another life, I spent many happy hours reading aloud from C.S. Lewis’s Narnia books, and in these strange days, I can’t help being reminded of the final volume. In The Last Battle, a wily ape realises he can deceive the rest of the animals by disguising a donkey with the skin of a dead lion and passing him off as Aslan. This fake Aslan isn’t at all the wild, joyous, compassionate, inclusive and life-affirming lion of the past. Instead, the ape keeps him hidden away, claiming he’s so angry with his subjects’ bad behaviour that he won’t speak to anyone else. The Aslan the ape creates is vengeful, manipulative and destructive, and demands absolute loyalty from his subjects. I can’t help seeing reflections of him in the right-wing evangelical movement, whose ‘god’ seems gleefully determined to consign the greater portion of humanity to the fires of hell
But the parallel goes further. Trump is now elderly and increasingly incoherent. Still filled with anger, resentment and entitlement, he’s the figurehead for a movement that flatters his vanity, but is beginning to outgrow him. It’s a ruthless movement of men (and I use the word advisedly) seeking absolute power for themselves in both the political and the private sphere, and only too happy to pervert or destroy anything that stands in their way.
Meanwhile, here in Bristol the Santas may scowl and the preachers harangue, but if every hellfire-and-damnation preacher on earth turns out to be right after all, I’ll still choose compassion and delight over anger and hate. I can only hope and pray that America has the will to do the same come polling day.
bluesinateacup 